“What are you plotting, Pretty Pet?” My lips graze the shell of her ear, and the noise that whimpers from her lips has me instantly rock hard.
The control it takes not to shove aside her wet panties and thrust my fingers into her hot pussy is a fraying string that I’m barely holding together.
A hum follows that sweet whimpering sound though. A much more confident noise that has me even more enamored with this strange, captivating captive.
Her head turns toward mine, our lips lingering all too closely together. So much so, I can feel the buzz between our mouths that sparks with unspoken words. She kissed me last night. Hard. She kissed me like I wasn’t my father’s pet monster or a prince to be crowned in a kingdom damned to fucking hell.
She kissed me like she wanted to forget her life.
“I could tell you,” she whispers those taunting words along my lips, and I can’t help but close my eyes as if the weight of her breath is the faintest kiss I’ll never get from her. “Do something for me, and maybe you’ll get something in return.”
The thrum of her heartbeat is calmer now. No longer frightful but assured.
Whatever she’s planning, I want to see it out. I have to know.
With confusion and curiosity, my fingertips slide up, up, up. The pulse of her clit is at the tip of my finger as I just barely give her the slightest pressure there from over a rough lace fabric. Sweet thighs shift against my hand. Her heat alone is addicting. Her wetness that seeps through those thin panties is intoxicating. The feel of her against my fingertips, the thought of her squeezing down my shaft; suddenly it’s all I can think about.
But the real confusion is, why is she leaning into me? Why is she pressing her pussy down across my palm? Why is she grinding her hot cunt against my hand?
And the most confusingly curious thing of all about this little mortal girl:
“Why is there a man’s blood on your hands, Crymson Vain?”
The bed lurches. Her body collides with mine. I’m so distracted about every single part of her that I go down easily. Once she’s on top of me, I don’t want to stop her. I don’t want to pin her beneath me and punish her.
I want to see her next move.
And it’d be a lie if I said it wasn’t a turn-on to have her holding me down like this. No one gets the best of me. The thing inside won’t let them.
Oh, but fuck, I wish she would.
With scattering legs, she kicks hard at the bed until she’s high above me. And in no time at all, my gold chains around her wrist are cutting into my throat. It’s an irritating sting of pressure that she doesn’t have the muscle to enforce. I blink up at her where she sits in the dark, and I listen to her groans and struggles of trying to choke me.
She’s actually trying to steal the breath from my lungs.
But the joke’s on her: I haven’t taken a real fucking breath in all my life.
This poor mortal girl thinks suffocation is the key to killing a vampire.
The smile on my lips is a ghost in the dark. Laughter shakes to get out. I swallow it down. I don’t make a sound, and I even allow myself to go slack across the bed. I don’t close my eyes. I can’t stand to. My cock is rock hard with the idea of seeing this pretty little redhead fight me off.
And so, I let her kill me.
Or at least, I let herthinkshe has killed me.
The hard press of the chains lessens. Shaking hands hover over my throat as she just holds her bindings above me. The smell of the blood on her hands is consuming now.
The blood is a slight splatter, a hint of droplets that are more of a wound than a killing.
The man from last night, he screwed up. And she made him pay for it, it seems. She got to him long before I did.
Fuck, why does that make me even harder for some reason?
A sob shoves from her lungs, and the only sign of her tears is the light trembling of the blanket as she takes concealed, slow breaths. I can hear it: she keeps her palms tightly to her mouth like she can stop the emotions that press to get out. It’s strange, but it seems to work. The emotions are silenced before the salty scent of her tears even meets the air. She doesn’t linger on her sadness. Survival is all she’s focused on. It might be all she has ever been focused on in her short life.
She lifts herself over me, her pussy so close to my face, it’s hard not to slip under her and taste her even more. I swallow hard and remain unmoving. Her chain slides over my face and chest, and then a small hand shoves into my pocket. It’s a scramble of fumbling fingers until she seems to have found what she was looking for:
The key.