Love Bites by Angela Knight Page A

break you of that arrogance. An Oath Servant doesn’t talk to her Masters with such insolence.”
    Cador gave her the smile that had been known to make hardcore mortal submissives run screaming from the BDSM clubs the team frequented. “We’ll make you scream in pain—and pleasure. You’ll come again and again as we fuck you in that smart mouth, that tight, creamy pussy.” His voice deepened into a purring rumble. “In that snug, hot arse. You won’t be allowed to deny us any part of your lovely body.”
    Percival flashed his own variation on Cador’s evil smile. “We’ll own you for the next year. You’ll beg for mercy—and we won’t give a damn.”
    Morgana stared at him. Her beautiful green eyes widened as her lips parted. Percival’s sensitive vampire nose picked up the unmistakable scent of arousal.
    In the ticking silence, he realized Marrok and Cador had frozen with the same kind of predatory hunger he felt—and
he
could drive nails with his dick. “Well?” he demanded.
    The witch angled her chin up in a gesture he knew far too well, a glitter of defiant determination in her eyes. “I’ve offered you my Oath, gentleman. The only question is, are you going to take me on?” She curled a lip. “Unless you’re afraid you’re not up to the task. . . .”
    That, of course, aroused an entirely predictable reaction from Cador. He lounged back on the couch in a sprawl that called blatant attention to his massive erection. “Oh, darling, I can assure you, I’m definitely up to the task of putting you in your place.” One hand cupped his balls as his grin took on a carnivorous edge.
    “We need to discuss this,” Marrok said, a muscle rolling in his broad jaw. “Give us a minute, Morgana.”
    “Of course.” She angled her head in a courteous little nod, then turned with a roll of lush hips and sauntered out. A gesture had the door closing behind her, propelled by a rolling wave of golden sparks.
    “Oh, God, that arse . . .” Cador moaned. “I can’t wait to flog it a nice rosy pink before I give it a grinding fuck. You know Morgana le Fay has never let anybody touch her anal cherry. I’ll bet it’s tight as a miser’s purse.”
    “I’m sure it is,” Percival growled, shooting him a glance of narrow-eyed warning. “I’m also sure you’re not going to be the first to claim it.”
    Marrok shot off the couch and began to pace. “Which is exactly why accepting her Oath is such a piss-poor idea. You two are going to end up fighting over that bloody witch like two stallions with one mare. No bit of pussy is worth wrecking the team.”
    Stung, Percival stared at his friend. “Of course we’re not going to wreck the team. We’ve shared women before, and it’s never been a problem.”
    Marrok met his gaze with a level stare. “Those women were bed-sport. You always cared for their needs as a dom’s duty demands, but they weren’t more to you than that.” He shrugged. “True, you weren’t any more than that to the women, either. But still.”
    Percival curled a lip. “Are you suggesting I’m in love with Morgana le Fay?”
    Cador snorted and stretched his long legs out, propping them on the coffee table’s granite top. “Yeah, right. Because he has such a weakness for flaming bitches.”
    “As to that,” Percival growled, “I believe we can break her of that particular character defect.”
    “Clamps on her nipples would probably be highly effective.” Cador grinned and licked his lips.
    Marrok stared at him, then scrubbed a hand over his face with a groan, his massive shoulders slumping. “I’m wasting my fucking breath. You’ve already made up your minds.” He glanced at Cador. “Both of you. I’m outvoted.”
    “Christ, Marrok, are you kidding?” Cador demanded. “Think of all those little zaps every time we went out with her the past few years. Think of the way she always insisted on leading missions, though Percival has more field experience.” His lip