Page 18 of Princess Fallen

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I scoff.“I guess you’ll never be High Alpha, huh?Don’t inhale when you smoke pot.Don’t let a vamp feed from you.Those are the rules, right?Or are they more likeguidelines?”

He pulls away.“Fuck!Can you stop being sarcastic for one minute?”

“No,” I reply.Truth.

“I don’t want to be High Alpha.I never did.I just want…” He tugs at his hair, pulling the band out and letting it flow over his broad shoulders.

My body tingles, all feeling arrowing straight between my legs.

“What?”I ask, breathless.“What do you want?”

He grabs my hair this time, forcing my head up to meet his emerald gaze.“You, princess.I want you.In my bed.”

Shivers race through me, and I inhale.The scent of him.That masculine, animalistic scent… I can’t get enough.

“I’ve said it before,” I rasp.“What’s stopping you?”

“You.Youstopped it before.You pushed me out of your suite.”

Right.I did.Because if I hadn’t, I’d have taken his blood.Not an issue now.I already took his blood, and I’m renewed.My body feels no repercussions from the tangle with the thugs.None.It’s unreal.

No hunger for blood blinds me.I’m satiated.Now?My only hunger is for Victor Rogan inside me.Fucking me.

My fangs haven’t yet retracted, and they likely won’t until I’m sated in another way.

Yeah, blood lust and sex are intertwined.They coexist, dependent on each other.

I part my lips, baring my cuspids.“I’m not pushing you away now.”

He pushes me against the brick wall—

Then he turns abruptly.One of the unconscious thugs is moving.Rogan steps away and knocks him back into oblivion with a kick to the head.

He returns to me and grabs my hand.“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

8

Ten minutes later I’m in Victor Rogan’s penthouse.

I’m curious, but my aching need for him blocks everything out.We fall into a clench and rip each other’s clothes off.

And I do mean rip.My T-shirt is in tatters, my bra cut in two.And my thong?Yeah, no more thong.

His garments fared better than mine, but not by much.My fangs made quick work of his black button down.Too bad.He looked hot in it.

He looks way hotter out of it, though.

I’m literally drooling, he’s so magnificent.His shoulders are tanned and muscled, his pecs perfect and hard, his abs tight as a drum.Black hair is scattered over his chest in the perfect amount, and it arrows down to his nest of curls from which springs—I was right—a gorgeous cock.

Not only huge but gargantuan.Perfect in its beauty, with two veins intertwining like purple marbling on a piece of tan granite.

Hard as granite too.I can tell just by looking.Just by salivating.

Does he like what he sees as much as I do?From the low growl that seems omnipresent, I assume he does.

“Fucking beautiful,” he says.

Though my body is already an inferno, I warm further.His gaze melts me, penetrates me, makes my blood gush faster and my pussy throb harder.


Tags: Helen Hardt Paranormal