Page 9 of The Breeding Cave
“You were out. On a date.” I placed my hand on the brick wall and scratched my claws into it so I wouldn’t punch a hole right through it. “You were out on a date when you should be back in my penthouse—or our cave—ready to give me a child.”
After swallowing hard, she pressed her thighs even closer together. “Why does it matter if I go out on a date with someone or not?” She crossed her arms, but she wasn’t stiff. Oh, no, just by peering over her shoulder, I could see her trying to discreetly play with her nipples. “Besides, it wasn’t a date.”
“You’re about to make me lose control,” I growled into her ear. “Compose yourself.”
Yeosin sucked in a sharp little breath, still facing away from me. “Or what?”
I wrapped my hand around the front of her throat and pulled back on it so she stared up at the moon above us. My canines met her neck, and I ached to sink my teeth into her to show her what would happen.
“Or else I’ll breed you here,” I murmured against her neck. “And everyone at your bus stop will watch as you get a pussy full of my cum. Over”—I dipped my fingers between her thighs—“and over”—I pressed them against her clit, making her inhale—“and over again.”
A small whine left her mouth, and my dick hardened in my suit pants.
“You’ll never go out on a date with anyone again. Do you understand me?” I asked, drawing my lips up the column of her throat and to her ear. “You know the pleasure that I can give you, and I can take it all away.”
“You would do that to someone who’s supposed to be carrying your child?”
“Yeosin,” I growled, shoving my claws so harshly against the brick that it crumbled.
Where had all this brattiness come from? Had she been thinking about how she’d react to me tonight? Was she comfortable with me after one night? Was it that she had the money now and didn’t care about the consequences? Or maybe it was that cursed thing called fate.
“Fine. Fine,” she said, glancing toward the street where the bus pulled up. “I won’t go on any more dates with Brent.” She pushed back against me and headed toward the bus. “But I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.”
CHAPTER
FIVE
YEOSIN
“Come on,” I murmured to myself after I missed my bus and ran down the street, away from the billionaire beast man, like that was exactly what I had meant to do. I tapped my shoe and anxiously looked behind me at the ATM. “Work, please!”
Two members of the Dragon Clan sat in a blacked-out SUV to my right, watching me.
I drummed my finger on the screen, hoping that this damn credit card would actually let me withdraw cash. Since I had left home, I tried hard not to even own a credit card—I didn’t like debt, which made this situation even stickier—so I wasn’t sure if this would work.
But if I tried to use my debit card, it would decline and spit my card back out.
“Can’t this stupid machine go any faster?!” I whispered to myself, hitting it with the palm of my burned hand and giving myself flashbacks from earlier today when the card machine wouldn’t work for me in front of Grumpy Pants himself.
Once the screen gave me the option to withdraw cash, I typed in three thousand dollars. The loading circle on the screen spun and spun and spun, until it finally started to spit out cash in hundred-dollar bills onto the ground and into a puddle.
“God-fucking-dammit,” I whispered, trying to pick up the wet bills but also grab the bills before they could drop into the puddle.
I glanced behind me at the car, hoping they’d accept wet bills.
They knew Alvin wouldn’t pay because he didn’t care about anyone—that was apparent. But I would because, despite not really talking to my family anymore, I cared so much for them, and I never wanted to see them hurt. Or worse, killed.
When the last hundred-dollar bill left the machine, I gathered them all in my hands and counted it three times. Three thousand. It wasn’t nearly enough to pay the debt back, and at this rate, I would have to pull out three thousand dollars from the ATM every day for multiple years.
It could work, but … the banks might get suspicious. After all, it wasn’t my card.
Pushing my shoulders back to feign confidence, I walked over to the blacked-out SUV and to the driver’s side. The driver rolled down the window, and I spotted the leader of the Dragon Clan in the passenger seat.
“You have it?” he asked.
“Only three thousand,” I said. “It’s as much as the ATM would let me withdraw.”
A low grunt exited his mouth, and I handed him the money. He counted it, stopping at the wet bills at the bottom of the stack and raising his brow at me. I grimaced and shuffled my feet, hoping he’d take them.
