The Executed Empress Proposed to His Scarred Brother novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: The Belt

He waited until the guards had changed at dusk and the last tray was gone.

Then Ilarion bolted the inner shutter, banked the fire high, and dragged the big wolfskin rug into the middle of the floor.

"Take off your things," he said.

"All of them?"

"All of them. And then lie down on your back, with your arms over your head."

Iseult undressed in front of the fire, slowly, with her heart knocking.

She laid herself down on the soft grey fur, and the heat from the hearth ran along her whole body.

He knelt above her and took off his belt.

It was thick brown leather, worn at the buckle, and the sight of it did something to her breath.

"Wrists," said Ilarion.

She crossed them above her head, and he wound the belt twice around them and buckled it tight.

It held her wrists against the rug just above her head, firm and not cruel.

"Can you move them?"

She tugged.

"No."

"Good. It will leave a mark on your skin by morning."

"I want it to."

His eyes went dark.

"Say it again."

"I want every mark you make. I want to see them tomorrow."

He bent and kissed her, hard, a kiss with teeth in it.

His hand closed on her jaw and held her still.

He took her mouth, deep and unhurried and hungry, until she was gasping.

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