Page 19 of Lycan King's Captives
Xandros roughly pulls me toward the car, the driver already waiting with the door open. He shoves me inside, causing me to smack my head on the edge of the door. I quickly scramble across the seat, feeling the blood trickle down from my hairline as Xandros climbs in beside me, his anger palpable.
As the car pulls away, he begins to scold me, his voice furious. “How dare you hug another man. I should have killed him.” Tears fill my eyes as I realize just how volatile my new life will be—constantly walking on eggshells around Xandros.
“Do you like him? Is that it?” he demands, his voice cold. I remain silent, knowing admitting any feelings, platonic or otherwise, for Toby would only put him in more danger.
“Answer me!” he screams, his fist slamming into the back of the passenger seat.
I jump, my eyes meeting the driver’s in the rearview mirror. The man offers me a look of pity before averting his gaze. Xandros seems to calm after his outburst, his attention turning to the window as he mutters under his breath.
When we arrive back at the castle, Xandros storms out of the car and circles around to my side. I try to slide across the seat and escape through the other door. However, he grabs me around the waist, yanking me out of the car. When he notices the blood on my forehead, he pauses and moves to touch me, his voice filled with remorse. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. I brush his hand away.
The action seems to anger him even more, and he roughly tosses me over his shoulder, carrying me into the castle and back to our room. He throws me onto the bed, and I brace myself for what’s to come. The darkness in his eyes warns me the worst is far from over.
I quickly drop the piece of paper down the gap of the headboard on the bounce. Rolling over, I stare into the eyes of the man who has claimed me as his own.
Xandros is still raging as he glares at me, lying on the bed. He opens his mouth to say something when servants burst into the room carrying bags from our shopping trip. Xandros holds his tongue, but I can see the fury simmering beneath the surface.
I try to take advantage of the brief reprieve and climb off the bed, wanting to escape him, even if it’s just to the bathroom. Xandros growls, his gaze pinning me in place. The sound draws the attention of the servants, and realizing this, Xandros snaps at them to leave. They rush out of the room, closing the door behind them, and I’m left alone to face my mate’s wrath.
Xandros’s eyes narrow as he stares at me, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell me, Sienna, do you like him? Is that why he felt so fucking comfortable approaching you in public?”
“No, it’s not like that. He was only my boss,” I quickly reply, my voice trembling.
“Liar,” he hisses, grabbing my throat and pressing me into the bed. Fear courses through me, and I don’t even try to fight back. No, it will only worsen things. “How can you say that when I’m your mate? You said it yourself. The mate bond would prevent me from wanting to be with anyone else…” I blurt out when his grip tightens, threatening to cut off my air.
“Prove it… Prove you only want me.”
The pressure on my windpipe causes me to gasp for air. “Prove it!” he screams in my face.
His threat hangs in the air like a suffocating fog, making it impossible for me to think straight. As his grip tightens, I panic. Desperate, my hand reaches for his cock, grabbing him through his pants. Xandros freezes, his gaze dropping to my hand on him. My heart races, remembering how painful it was the last time he touched me, but I don’t know how to calm him down.
A twisted smile crosses Xandros’s lips as he seems to approve of my touch. Realizing this, I hesitantly lift my head to kiss him, trying to hide the terror coursing through my veins.
The moment our lips meet, his anger seems to lessen. His hand gripping my throat remains firm, growing tighter and more possessive with each passing second. I inhale deeply as he moves his lips to my neck, releasing my throat and biting me softly, sending a shiver of pleasure through my body. My nervousness grows when his hands start to roam, exploring my body with a hunger that intensifies with each passing second. His touch is no longer gentle, but rather strong and demanding. His bites become harder, and I feel myself responding to his aggression despite the pain they cause.
As I gasp for air, my head spins from the intensity of his touch, my body instinctively arches into him. He tightens his grip on me, and I can feel the anger and jealousy in his touch, a primal desire that both terrifies and excites me. Our eyes meet, as he lifts his gaze, teeth sinking into the soft tissue of my breast. His eyes flicker dangerously, and the darkness swirling within them sends a shiver down my spine.
“You won’t talk to him again; you won’t look at him. If he ever crosses our path again and you respond or acknowledge him. I will kill him,” he warns, and I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to handle the intensity of his searing gaze. Only when I do he bites the side of my breast hard.
My eyes open and I cry out, yet he doesn’t seem to care he is hurting me, even as I feel my blood trickle down my ribs. “You belong to me,” he growls, his voice tinged with fury.
“Do you understand?” I nod, not wanting to anger him. However, instead of my answer pleasing him, it seems to have the opposite effect as he pulls back a little, fingers biting into the soft skin on my arms.
“I don’t think you do,” he growls, as tears flood my eyes.
“Maybe I should show you who you truly belong to.” He pushes me harder into the bed, his hand pinning my wrists above my head in one of his, my trapped wrists grating together painfully in his tight grip.
“Who do you belong to, Sienna?” he snarls. The rough fabric of the bed sheets scratches against my skin as he leans down, his breath hot against my ear.
“Answer me! Do you understand? You’re mine, now and forever.” When I don’t answer, he grips my throat and growls, “You belong to me. Say it! Say you’re mine.” I’m terrified and aroused all at the same time, my heart racing as I feel the intensity of his gaze. His anger and possessiveness send a thrill through me, and I can feel myself wanting to give in to him, but also not, knowing by doing so I am giving him the control and fear he craves. I’m also terrified of what will happen if I don’t.
Tears prick my eyes, and his grip on my throat loosens, allowing me to speak. “I’m yours,” I assure him, my lips quivering. He watches me for a few tense seconds, eyes wild while I breathe harshly.
His lips find mine again, and this time the kiss is wild, a fiery storm of passion and anger. The bond instantly reacts to his touch. Painful or not, it doesn’t seem to care. I struggle against his grip, yearning to touch him, to feel his body against mine. He doesn’t relent, keeping my wrists firmly in place as he devours me with his mouth, tongue, and teeth. His mouth moves to my neck, leaving a trail of fiery bites in his wake. I cry out, pain and pleasure erupting deep within me.
He smirks at my reaction, an edge of darkness in his eyes that sends a thrill of fear through me. Still I don’t want him to stop; I crave the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain only he can give me. His free hand moves to my breast, gripping it roughly, making me gasp as my body betrays me, responding to his harsh touch.
His thumb flicks across my nipple, eliciting a moan that echoes through the room. With each passing second, his touch grows rougher and more demanding, and I can feel my resolve crumbling beneath the weight of his desire. As he trails kisses down my body, I feel a new sensation building within me.
