Page 15 of Their Blood Rite

I try to kick him away with my remaining free foot, but he grips my ankle and pulls, stretching me out so he can secure it to the other corner.

I’ve screamed, and I’ve called. My throat feels red raw from the effort, but I’ve made hardly a damned sound.

Panting, I lift my head and watch him. He restrains me slowly on purpose, making each loop and knot a tease. A promise.

I’m not going anywhere.

With a final tug, he gives a single laugh, the corner of his mouth hitched in a crooked smile as he looks down at me, deepening that scar along his lips.

‘I was right. I do enjoy seeing you stretched out and tied up,’ he breathes, resting his hands on each bedpost and surveying me. ‘There was mention of a weapon last we spoke,’ he adds. ‘Sadly, I didn’t come with an iron nail. We did discuss something else, however.’

‘You can’t feed from witches. It’s forbidden. And if you touch me, my coven will kill-’

‘Pixie. If you open your mouth again, I’ll fill it with my cock. Do you understand me?’ His brow raises, waiting for an answer.

I close my lips, taking my panicked breaths in through my nose instead, and never look away from him. My rage and hate mix with fear as I look at my predator.

His piercing green eyes trail down my body, stopping only when he gets to the hem of my nightgown resting at my knees.

I never look away. I don’t even blink, hating how exposed I suddenly feel.

How utterly helpless.

I could scream again. But I tried. Nothing came out. He must have done something to me. Something vampiric that I don’t know or understand.

But I sure as shit know that he meant it when he warned me what would happen if I open my mouth again.

Shaw kneels on the bed between my legs, focusing entirely on the thin cotton covering my body.

When his palms rest on my ankles, I jump. He feels me trembling, and his gaze flicks back to mine.

‘You insulted me, Pixie. You called me a bloodsucker as well as a pig-headed piece of shit. Say you’re sorry.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I reply in a whisper.

His hands slowly slide up my legs.

‘I said… I said I was sorry…’

He feels me try in vain to close my legs. But he also feels the goosebumps that erupt over every inch he touches.

His hands pass my knees as he crawls up the bed, taking the hem of my night dress with him. My mouth dries out thoroughly, and if my heart gets any faster, it will explode.. There’s a hunger in his eyes, and I like it. I like the domineering control he’s taken. I like his gentle touch despite the violent nature of his visit.

I like that I’m being looked at as a prize. And I very much like the deep weight I have building in my core.

He stops at my hips and looks down.

‘My sweet little Pixie. Your pussy is exquisite.’ His head tilts to the side a little as he admires my exposed flesh. ‘My my.’ With a frown, he lifts his head. ‘You’re wet. I wasn’t expecting that.’ That hitched corner of his mouth grows. ‘Not this early on, at any rate.’

‘Get the fuck away from me, or I will slit your fucking throat!’ I warn. Despite how it trembles, my voice seems to have returned, so I take the risk and try to scream. I scream for my father. For anyone to help me!

Not a fucking sound passes my lips.

He tuts and shakes his head.

‘I warned you, Little Pixie. Didn’t I warn you what would happen if you tried to scream?’ He leans over me, his hands resting on either side of my head and his nose a hair's breadth from mine. ‘Anyone would think that you want my cock in your mouth.’

‘You can’t do this,’ I whisper. ‘The rules. The treaty.’

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