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Ever since Sable left, I’d been sulking. I couldn’t help the guilt that ate away at me at how I’d left the conversation. Even as part of my mind said I shouldn’t treat anyone that actively participated in keeping me here nicely, another part reminded me that Sable had mentioned she was a victim herself.
Had Eoin kept her captive once, too? And now she was all Stockholm-y and that’s why she was up his ass with adoration?
The thought made me frown.
An image of the two of them stuck in a passionate embrace filtered into my brain, Eoin’s mouth locked on her neck as he bled her. Concerningly, the mental image made me almost nauseous with jealousy.
I wanted to be the only one that fed him.
I dismissed the thought before it fully formed, not even giving it an iota of attention, tucking it safely away into the Do Not Open file inside my mind.
By the next thought, I had myself convinced that the turning of my stomach was from the severe hunger pangs still plaguing me. I halfway regretted throwing the sandwiches at Sable. I paced the room, eyes lingering on the towel and new set of clothes Sable had brought me, but I dismissed them. Maybe if I smelled like putrid body odor, Eoin would leave me alone.
I was still treading through the room carefully, searching for any hint of a weapon I’d previously missed, when the door flung open, shocking me.
A veritable cloud hung around Eoin’s shoulders as he stormed into the room. He approached me with such a predatory and feral look on his face that true, animalistic fear skittered up my spine. My feet were moving, shuffling backward gracelessly as I attempted to evade him. I didn’t know what I did to piss him off outside of existing, but I didn’t want to get caught and find out.
When my legs hit the foot of the bed, I fell backward in a heap before scrambling back up on the bed, legs kicking out at the Abhartach’s outstretched hands. My heart was thudding an outrageous staccato rhythm, so fast and so hard I would not have been surprised if it escaped from the cage of my ribs. A growl left Eoin’s chest, rumbling and deep, more monster than man, as a snarl lifted the corner of his mouth.
“Would you be feckin’ still?” he griped, running a hand through his long hair as his green eyes studied my position on the bed. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Yeah fucking right, screamed my instincts. That usually dormant part of my brain, the lizard half, was fully awake and yelling at me to run, to hide, to survive, to doanythingto get away. I didn’t know how anyone willingly stood near vampires if their body also had such a negative, visceral reaction to being near them as mine did.
Despite this, there was a small part of me that was desperately delighted to see him. Even after such a short amount of my time, my body had keyed into the fact that I received aching amounts of pleasure when he was near me. And part of me, even now, was craving that.
The bastard had me creaming for him just from his mere presence, like I was Pavlov’s dog and he was the ringing bell, bringing me the stimulus I craved.
He reached out to grab my ankle and I recoiled harshly.
“Don’t touch me,” I shouted. “Don’t you touch me!” My voice was shrill with fear. More so of what I would do if his skin touched mine than what he would do to me if he got a hold of me.
Eoin just rolled his eyes. Using his impressive vampire speed, he caught both of my legs in his hands and with a quick yank, had me tugged down the bed until he fisted a hand in the hair at the base of my skull. His other hand gripped my throat and with his thumb on my chin, he angled my head back until I was forced to look at him.
Immediately, my eyes shot to his—emerald green clashing with amber—before dragging down to his cheek and focusing on a freckle there. His jaw was locked tight, temple pulsing as he clenched and unclenched his teeth.
My legs were in an uncomfortable tangle so I straightened them, which forced me to spread my thighs wide to accommodate the width of Eoin’s hips. Even through the sweats, I swore I could feel the heat of him on my inner thighs and the almost sensation made me dizzy.
Eoin inhaled deeply, seemingly taking in my scent. Briefly, I was mortified that I likely smelled like sweat and days-old cum, but then I reminded myself that I wanted to be as unattractive as possible. I shouldn’t want to be under his thrall, or in his presence at all, so if he found me revolting, all the better—or so I tried to convince myself.
Down to my core, I hated this man, but my body was outrageously synced to his and craved the pleasure he could give me. This irritating fact made me sneer up at Eoin.
“Och, th’re she is. I was wonderin’ where tha’ feisty littl’ minx went. Ye were all docile fer a moment, ’ad me worried fer a wee bit.” His deep, accented voice sounded charmed. A smirk played on his lips despite the tense quirk of his jaw that belied the anger he still felt.
“Tell me, lass. Ye don’t like tha food we serve ’ere? Our sandwiches na good ’nough fer tha La Rosa royalty?” As he spoke, he moved in closer to me, so near that his lips nearly touched mine. “Does tha pretty littl’ princess only eat from fine china an’ gold cutlery?”
The smile that grew on my lips was menacing. I leaned forward, feeling the tightening of his fingers around my throat. “Maybe I just don’t eat in the presence of vampire swine.”
An inelegant snort left his lips. “I’ll be sure ta let Sable know ye t’ink so highly of her.”
I scoffed before snarling out, “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Truly, love, I don’ care what ye meant. What I care ’bout is makin’ sure ye stay alive fer na. So I need ye ta eat.” At his words, a guard came through the door, carrying a thermos in one hand and yet another wrapped sandwich in the other. “We can do this tha easy way or tha hard way.”
My eyes flickered back and forth between the food items before refocusing on Eoin’s oddly enticing freckle. “How do I know you didn’t poison it?” I asked, before adding on, “You can’t make me eat it.”
It was the wrong thing to say because a cruel smirk crossed Eoin’s face.
“Oh, love. I t’ink ye’ll find I can.”
