Page 16 of Their Blood Rite

‘Never been one for rules.’ He lowers his waist, and I gasp as I feel the coolness of his trousers against me. That, and his erection digging into me.

He watches me closely, reading every bit of my reaction. When he digs himself in a little more, I whimper.

I fucking whimper! A jolt of pleasure tears through me, making my back arch.

My mouth is agape, and confusion starts to argue with my terror.

The feel of him on me… the way I can’t move… the power he has over me, literally holding my life in his hands… It turns me the fuck on.

‘I like that noise,’ he muses. ‘Do it again.’

‘Go to hell, Bloodsucker.’

His hips push forward once more, and the whimper comes out as a full-on moan.

‘Oh yes. I definitely like that noise.’

‘S-stop… it,’ I manage through a breathless whisper.

‘What… this?’ he teases, grinding into me again.

I raise my hips to meet his and relish the feel of his trousers straining over his cock. Back and forth, he moves over my clit, as if fucking me.

‘Stop…’ I moan, biting my lip.

‘You didn’t sound too convincing just then, Pixie. Try it again without that breathy gasp.’ He starts grinding against me. I pull on the restraints, but I know it’s not to escape. It’s to get closer. To feel more. ‘I highly doubt Cole has ever got you to make that noise before. Do it again.’

His hand settles between my legs. The tips of his fingers gently circle my opening. So light and gentle it's barely even a touch.

But it has every nerve heightened. Every muscle contracting. He glides his fingers along my entrance and holds them up between us, showing me the wetness he’s gathered.

‘You are soaking wet, Pixie.’ He raises a brow. ‘You like this? Being tied up? Being at my mercy?’

‘Drop dead.’

‘Some would argue I already have.’

He returns his fingers between my legs and sinks them deep inside me.

My fingers curl around the belt as my back arches completely. He knows precisely where to touch. How to move. His fingers are skilled. Far more so than my own. It usually takes me ten minutes or more to get myself this turned on. This wet. I hear how slick I am. I feel it on my inner thighs.

‘I think I’ve found myself a little whore. Is that what you are?’ He sinks in a third finger and lets out a deep moan. ‘Fuck, Pixie.Your cunt is starving for attention.’ He laughs again, watching me shamelessly writhe beneath him. ‘I just wanted to scare you. But I’ll happily fuck you if that’s what you want.’ His thumb circles my clit.

‘Fuck… Fuck!!’ I moan, lifting my head to watch. To witness his fingers ease in and out of me with slippery ease. This is wrong. It’s all wrong! He’s a vampire. My enemy. A killer of my kind.

But holy shit, he is good with his fingers, and being tied up? Why the hell do I like this so damn much? The thrill that he could kill me at any second… it makes it better. Makes me wetter.

I close my eyes and turn my face away. He’s a monster. A killer. A bloodsucker who kills for money and feeds from the innocent. He tortured the last pixie he had tied down. It’s wrong.

What the hell is the matter with me?

He guides my face back to his.

‘If you want me to make you orgasm, you better look me in the eye as I do. There’s something extremely satisfying about the shame and lust I see in them. So big and beautiful. So doe-like and sweet. Yet so powerful, too. You would kill me if you could, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I admit.

‘How would you kill me, Pixie?’

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