Page 4 of To Tame An Angel

His nostrils flared. He breathed in, as if he was smelling me. He could sense the perfume I dabbed on my wrists. If he had true talent, he would smell the drip of my cunt. I felt rather foolish right now for dressing up and taking such care of my hair. A man like this would scoff at my effort.

“I know you enjoy speaking to men you cannot handle, white dress,” he said between clenched teeth.

The indignation that erupted inside of me at his words sealed the deal. Leaning forward, I studied his face. He was disgusting, filthy, and ready for his bathing, for he smelled foul.

“Look at me. I dare you,” I seethed, gripping the bars. “Open your eyes like you did before. I am, after all, nothing but a little girl you could crush with your strength. Open them.”

He considered my words. He wanted to open them. He wished to defy me. It was in him to defy. He was a bull and I’d never conversed with one before. They say my father was a bull.

“My eyes are for my lady,” he said. “And you’re not she.”

I stared at his defiant face. There was a part of me that felt the need to break him. Tame him. But also… another part of me wished a man like this would desire me. Willingly bend before me. Cherish my kisses and worship me. Be willing to kill anyone who meant me harm. Find happiness between my legs. And when the time was right, be willing to accept my mark, instead of me forcing it on him.

I straighten at the thought. Mother was observing me, considering my stance.

“I’ll take this one. I’ll take Seventy-four,” I said. To my credit, my voice didn’t shake though my knees trembled.

Seventy-four moved, jangling his shackles. He sharply inhaled his breath. Mother’s eyes narrowed as Zaya laughed and Valle looked on worriedly.

“Bathe him. He smells like shit and sweat,” I snapped at the taskmaster and walked towards the carriage.

Without turning back, I was keenly aware Seventy-Four’s eyes were on my back.

CHAPTER TWO

NALLA

There was a deep sense of dread forming in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I’m not ready to handle such a fierce angel. He could easily deplete my magic, overpower and kill me if I lost control. There was an expectation that the first night was the worst. I’ve heard horrors of rapes and terrible beatings, which have ended with a dead man. Just the thought of it curls my insides. Mother might be harsh, but she’d never lost one of her men.

Once more, I go over all my items. Each was been specifically gifted to me. A new whip, a thin wooden rod, a leather paddle, various chains, ropes, ribbons, even feathers. In the center was the oaken box, inside is my brand. Many women brand their angel on the first night, get it over with. Mother expected this from me. I was unsure if I should do it tonight.

Tonight, I just wanted to speak to him. Perhaps have dinner and discuss things. Though I was uncertain what things we needed to discuss. Still, I hope he accepts the conversation.

Taking a shaky breath, I fidgeted with my hair, shifting a pin as I studied my reflection in the mirror. My curly brown hair is threaded with small white flowers, my dark eyebrows are tamed, and my large brown eyes look afraid. Though I’m not.

Well, I was afraid of failing.

When the knock sounded at my door, a deep flush settled over my cheeks.

“Alright,” I said to myself, pushing down my blue dress, flattening it. “You can do this. You’re a woman now. He’s yours.”

That sent a small thrill through my stomach, and I had to hold myself calm just thinking of all the fun things we could try together. Once he saw I would not hurt him for the sake of hurting him, he wouldn’t hate me. He’d probably learn to enjoy his life in my home.

Selecting the plush settee, I settled and lifted my chin.

“Come in,” I said with a firm voice.

The door unlatched, and I sucked in a sharp breath when the servants entered with my newly chosen man. He was so large; the cage hid his size. Everything about him is massive. His feet, his arms, his chest, the lump of cock under his trousers. He was blindfolded, but he smelled clean, just a fresh crisp scent. His face was shaved, along with his chest and arms. Likely all of him, too.

“You caught yourself a fine one, Lady Nalla,” Rissa, my old nurse, said, her eyes appreciating the chained physique before her.

I smiled and waved my hand. “Bring dinner.”

The servants curtsied and left the man chained and blindfolded before me. The fire flickered from the hearth and painted his chest in shadows. His mouth was set, and I noticed the flexing of his arms as I stared at him. I couldn’t deny that he was impressive. I allowed myself a little daydream of having him willingly at my feet.

“You may remove your blindfold,” I said.

His nostrils flared. Slowly, he raised his hands, making the chains jangle. With one yank, he tore the cloth, and it floated to the floor. His eyes were still closed and there was that same flash of defiance on his features.