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He found me.
Panic erupts bright and hot in my core. I turn to sprint, launching forward in a desperate, futile attempt to escape. I barely take three strides before shadows whip around my waist with blinding speed, yanking me backward and slamming me against the iron gate.
The cold metal groans under the force as a towering presence instantly pins me against the bars. A ragged gasp breaks from my throat. The pain of the impact melts instantly into a filthy, dizzying high. A primal thrill that settles deep in my stomach as his dark magic wraps around my hips, holding me entirely at his mercy.
Chapter twelve
Bellamy
The cold iron of the gate digs hard against my spine, but I barely feel it. I don’t even feel the freezing bite of the fog or the mud soaking through the knees of my jeans. All I feel is the unmistakable weight of a predator pressing against his prey.
A jagged gasp catches in my throat.
Just a few yards away, on the other side of the shadows, another beam of light slices through the gray haze. Jake’s voice rings out, sharp and demanding.
“Sweep the area again! He couldn’t have just vanished into thin air! The search hounds are onto something!”
My hands clench into tight fists. My ex’s men are right there. One flicker of the shadow barrier, and they’ll see me. No. I can’t let them take me. The very thought makes a wave of hot panic claw at my throat.
Yet trapped against the gate with my hunters practically breathing down my neck, my body betrays me in the most humiliating, exquisite way possible. God, there is something wrong with me.
My cock is still hard and throbbing. My nipples pebbled and sensitive. The terrifying thought of being exposed—of standing mere feet from the men who want to hurt me while a powerful demon presses even harder against me—triggers something dark and depraved deep inside my soul.
I’m terrified. Aching. And desperately, shamefully turned on.
In a blur of motion, he whips me around and shoves my chest hard against the iron gate. My hands fly up, my fingers wrapping tight around the cold bars to catch my balance before I can fall.
Fucking fight it, my mind screams, grasping desperately at whatever shreds of self-preservation I have left. Run. Fight him. You hate him. Hate being owned.
I try to move. I try to force my boots to lift off the ground, to turn around and push past him, to salvage whatever dignity I have left. But my legs feel frozen, or maybe weak. Either way, they don’t lift. My bones practically melt the moment a large, clawed hand reaches around me and settles firmly on my stomach.
Vesper.
His body presses flush against my back, a thick wall of solid muscle and heat that completely undoes me. His chest flattens against my shoulder blades, burning hot.
“Where did you think you were running to, little bird?”
His voice is a low, rumbling purr right against the sensitive shell of my ear, so close it makes my whole body tremble. It vibrates straight through my spine, straight into my throbbing dick.
“I… I wasn’t running,” I choke out. The needy, breathless tone is unconvincing. Pathetic.
A dark chuckle rumbles in Vesper’s chest, vibrating against my back. His large hand shifts, his long, cool fingers sliding up to wrap securely around my throat in a possessive, breathtaking grip. He tilts my head back against his shoulder, exposing the entire vulnerable length of my neck.
“Is that so?” Vesper murmurs, his lips brushing dangerously close to my skin as he speaks. “Your fluttering pulse tells a different story. Look at you, trembling like a little slut. Panting in the dark. Hard and needy.”
A humiliated whimper slips past my lips before I can bite it back. My cheeks burn furiously. I try to pull away, to yank my neck out of his grip, but his claws tighten just enough to make my eyes roll back.
“Shut the fuck up,” I whisper, my eyes squeezing closed as a fresh wave of arousal rolls over me. “Just let me go…”
“Never.” His breath is hot against my sensitive throat. “I want you to listen to them, Bellamy. Hear how close they are?”
Just beyond the boundary, a branch snaps. A muffled shout echoes through the trees.
“They’re looking for you,” Vesper taunts. His rough voice turns dark and filthy. “They want to take my pet away from me. That pathetic ex of yours thinks he owns you. He wants to cage you and pass you around to his wealthy friends. Shall I open the gate for them? Shall I let your precious Gregory pull you out of my grasp?”
“No,” I breathe.
The thought of Gregory touching me—of anyone touching me other than the monster at my back—makes a wave of nausea and possessive fury coil deep inside. These thoughts make no sense, yet I can’t seem to stop.
