I almost fed.
I did feed.
Just a taste. But I feel even more unsatisfied than before.
The hunger isn’t a whisper anymore. It’s a scream.
And I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend I’m not listening.
With a quick glance, I confirm Talon is still working the overcrowded door, trying to keep everyone in line. He doesn’t know I almost broke. I can still prove I can be more than my curse.
As I go back to work, the need is still all I can think of. Of what it would take to slake my thirst.
Fingertips brushing collarbones. A tongue dragging across my lower lips. A thigh slotting between mine in the back storeroom while my hands grip the shelves and…
I slam a glass down so hard it cracks.
Snow raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Ariel watches me a little too long.
Snow nudges me as she passes behind the bar. “You good?” she asks, her tone light, but her eyes narrowed. She taps her temple. “You’re buzzing like a goddamn wasps’ nest.”
Ariel rolls up next to us. “Whatever you’re holding in, it looks like it’s about to explode. Maybe you should talk about it?”
I want to lie.
I want to say I’m fine, but I can’t trust the sound of my own voice anymore. I shake my head and dive back into work.
Glass. Pour. Smile. Repeat.
After a while, everything starts to blur. Voices melt into sound. Faces smear. I can’t remember what drink I’m holding or which customer I’m bringing it to. My skin feels tight, my insides hollow.
I’m too aware of the way my corset presses my breasts. Of the sweat trailing down my spine.
Someone brushes my arm. My thighs clench so hard it hurts. I need…I need…fresh air.
The back door swings shut behind me, and I’m in the alley before fully realizing I’ve moved.
The jacked-up, tan fuckboy who doesn’t text women back is out here, pulling on a cigarette with his tall, redheaded friend.
He startles when he sees me. I step closer. He doesn’t move.
"Touch me," I say. Calm. Measured. Like I’m asking for the time.
Tan Fuckboy blinks. "What?"
"Touch me," I repeat, stepping into their space. My voice stays even, steady. A command disguised as a suggestion.
“Okay, whore,” he chuckles derisively, and his buddy follows suit while continuing to suck smoke.
“Oh,I’mnot the whore,” I say, a sly predatory smile sliding up my face. “You are.”
Their eyes go wide, they’re dazed, unsure, but already in my hooks. Magic licks along their skin. My hunger prowls forward, impatient. Cigarettes fall from their fingers, forgotten before they hit the pavement.
"Service me," I instruct Tan Fuckboy.
He obeys, falling to his knees and dragging my panties down. His hand moves on its own, drawn by the heat between my thighs. He slides one thick finger along my slit. His finger sinks in, slow, deep. The pad of it presses against my walls like a promise.
“More,” I bark.
