Page 111 of Bred
My job was specific.
Watch her.
Stalk her.
Treat her like prey on a battlefield.
I adjusted my aching dick at the thought.
She looked down at where the demon dared to touch her, his palm the size of the bruise on her wrist, confirming he was the one to grab her to begin with. I realized what she was about to do before she cocked her free hand back. The crack of her open palm cutting across the asshole’s face as he crumbled to the ground sent a shivered thrill down my spine. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth as she stood over him, the heel of her shoe positioned at the base of his neck.
I groaned.
If I were a vampire, I’d say bloodlust consumed me, but I was a Bocánaigh, and my yearning was geared toward the adrenaline of the battlefield. Of spilling blood. Of fucking in pools of crimson as my partner screamed my name while my cum leaked from their hole.
My cock pressed painfully against the fly of my trousers. I adjusted myself, again, discreetly, already leaking precum from excitement. The manic edge of violence crept in, pushing me to the brink. On the outside, I appeared stoic as always. Inside, a feral grin spread across my lips. A glee I had no business feeling erupted within me. I wanted to see it. I had to see her put that heel through the base of his throat, then his spine, killing him.
Fuck.
I had to get it together.
Regrettably, duty came first. Couldn’t have her killing anyone just yet. I crossed to where Roslin stood and grabbed her by the arm, wrenching her off of the man. Her hiss of outrage pierced the haze of excitement consuming me. I allowed myself to fall into the trappings of yearning for a captive, even if she wasn’t mine. “Very unladylike.”
She snorted. “Fuck you, too. Let me go.” She twisted and pulled at where I held her, trying to break free. “Who the fuck do you think you are touching me?” She was like a wet kitten, full of piss and vinegar, as I dragged her back to her room.
I wanted her to use those vicious claws on me.
“Who do you think you are acting like you are anything more than a prisoner in this house?” I pushed her down the hall and back into her prison, slamming the door behind us, locking it. She stumbled against the bed, staring up at me with wild, rage-filled topaz eyes. I wanted to fuck the aggression out of her. Listen to her purr in contentment after thoroughly satisfying her.
She scurried across the bed. “What are you going to do? Rape me to prove I’m a prisoner. Fuck you.” The pulse at her throat strummed. Her breath came in soft pants. Fear tinged the soft, succulent scent of her arousal.
I laughed, sitting in the chair I’d occupied more often than not. “I don’t rape women or men in order to hear their screams of pleasure, Ms. Glen. They come to me willingly, dripping for my cock.”
“I bet they do,” she muttered, crossing her arms.
I wanted to fuck the pout off her lush mouth. Wondered countless times what my dick would look like slipping past those full lips. Watch her choke on me. See the tears spring at the corners of her eyes while drool escaped the sides of her mouth. I yearned to mess her up. To come on her tits and tongue. To fill all of her holes with my cum.
“Why do you challenge them?” The words willingly slipped free as curiosity got the best of me.
“Why should I make any of this easy on any of you?” She made a derisive noise. “Do you think because you have tattoos all over your bodies or guns at your sides, you scare me? Do you honestly believe those nasty looks on your faces intimidate me?” She gave a menacing chuckle that slithered down my spine and settled in my groin. “Not in the least. I know what you are, Mr. Baine. You don’t frighten me.”
The truthfulness of her words didn’t surprise me. I’d seen the kindness she was capable of when someone other than any of the Demons who brought her food. She’d shown more compassion to those who cared for the apartment than she did toward any of Dominic’s men. Even the damn guard dog liked her, and the dog didn’t even like their handler.
“You’ve been looking at our tattoos,” I said, steepling my fingers under my chin, bracing my elbows on the arms of my chair. “What else do you look at, Ms. Glen?”
She laughed then. The venomous sound was a pure aphrodisiac.A Valkyrie. Yes, I could see it now. The regalness. The strength. The superiority. Mmm... “Not much worth looking at.”
“Oh?” Inquisitiveness kept me pushing at the wall separating us. I should stop. Step outside. Find someone to fuck and rut within to slack the lust pounding through my veins.
Instead, I stayed there.
“If you’re trying to small talk me or get me to admit to some...” She waved her hand, “Attraction, you’re going to be waiting a long fucking time.” She licked her bottom lip. “I won’t be one of those Stockholm Syndrome people.”
I chortled.
She shivered.
Her scent thickened, darkening with arousal. Amber and peaches. Spicy and sweet. The aroma complimented her rosewater perfume. It took all of my strength to sit where I was and not cross to her. I was playing a dangerous game with Roslin. I needed to leave. Clear my head. Yet, just the thought of departing had a disgruntled rumble of indignation building in my chest.
