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Her eyes came back to mine. Her pupils had expanded. They were huge and black, edged by a thin rim of gray that was almost silver.
I’m not sure what I’d have done if she’d said no. The beast was riding me hard.
I wanted her submission. I wanted her real and raw and begging me for anything I chose to give her.
But she didn’t say no.
She crossed her arms over her torso and pulled her bra over her head, holding my gaze the whole time. The bra dropped to the floor.
I looked at her breasts. Hell, I devoured them with my eyes. They were as I’d pictured them, only better. Perfect apple-sized globes. Glowing, fine-grained skin topped with soft pink nipples.
My dick jerked and thrust against my boxers.
I crossed the step between us so I could caress her breasts. The skin was even softer than it looked. I brushed my thumbs over the points of her nipples. They hardened and I gave them a pinch. She moaned low in her throat.
I crowded closer, trapping her between my body and the wall.
Her eyelids lowered to half-mast. She put her hands over mine, helping me touch her.
Fuck that.
I wanted her to suffer—just a little.
I wanted her to beg—more than a little.
I caught her wrists and set them against the wall by her head. Growled, “Keep them there.”
She blinked at me, then glanced from one arm to the other.
I think we both realized at the same time that I’d put her in the position I’d been forced to hold in the cell.
She grimaced. She opened her mouth and started to apologize—and I didn’t want to hear it. Not again.
I believed she was sorry about how I’d been treated. What I didn’t know was if I could forgive her. But at this moment, it didn’t matter.
I covered her mouth with my left hand and touched my lips to her throat. She tensed, and I could tell she was afraid I was going to drink from her. She apparently had issues around blood-drinking.
Right then I’d have given up the rest of my trust fund to sink my teeth into her throat. She was beautiful, we were alone. She’d kissed me first. Taken her own bra off.
And the dark bastard in me growled that she owed me.
But I’d never taken blood from an unwilling woman in my life, and something wouldn’t let me do it now.
A vampire would probably shake their head, say I was a weak dhampir. Hell, Étan had said it straight to my face. But Étan was an asshole.
So instead I murmured, “You’re sorry? Then make it up to me,” and scraped my teeth over her skin.
She shuddered and grabbed my shoulders. “Zaq, I—”
I licked the scrape I’d made. “Shh. I know.”
More and more, I seemed to know what she wanted. Right now she wanted kisses and maybe a little teeth, but she didn’t want me to feed from her.
I nipped her under her jaw. “I’m not going to drink from you. Not today. But someday you’re going to beg me to drink from you and, Ridley, it’s going to lead to the best fucking you’ve ever had. But for now, I want you to put your hands against the wall like I told you.”
“Is this payback?”
I hesitated. “Maybe. A little. But it’s not just payback. It’s me showing you how good things can be when you let me take charge.”
