Page 43 of The Midnight Order
I scoff, hissing only the way a vampiric male can. “What do you take me for?”
She stands, a little wobbly on her sore ankles from my dragging her through the house. “I don’t know… maybe a beast who just stole me in the middle of the night and took me down to his sex dungeon, all while he’s in nothing but the tightest boxers known to man?!”
I step into her, and she attempts to back up.
The rack I intend to hang her from bumps into her, and she sneers at the cold feel of the metal on her nearly bare skin.
She’s in a silk nightgown that comes to mid-thigh.
I’ll thank Jasper for the sight later. He’ll have gotten her the finest clothes for her stay at Thorngray.
Even if she’ll get thrown back.
Though he let us keep Soliel.
Maybe he’ll let us keep her, too.
Until she eventually ages and dies.
“I’m no beast, but I’m also no man,” I tell her, narrowing my eyes on her as I press her against the metal rack I made myself.
She grips a couple of its bars. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
I tsk at her. “Oh, love. I don’t want to hurt you. Well, maybe a little.” The undercurrent of my meaning flutters in my tone, and she opens her eyes, which she had closed in fear, looking at me.
“What do you want from me?” she asks.
“It’s not what I want, love. It’s what I want to give you.”
“Give me?” she whispers as I lift her wrist, securing it in a cuff above.
“Mm. If your blood calls to me, you’ve passed two tests. It means you’re my Predestinat.”
“Your what?” she asks, watching as I cuff her right hand to the rack.
“My Predestinat. My fated. The one who houses the blood that calls to me over all others.”
“You think I’m some beauty to your beast? That’s not… I’m not…” she’s sputtering, and I can’t say I don’t find it intriguing to watch her spin.
“You could be.” I lean in. “Trust me. You want to be.”
She swallows.
“Now,” running my nose over her soft throat, “shall we begin?”
“You’re goingto drink my blood?” she asks, and her tone is laced with enough fear, appeasing my darker nature.
“I am going to taste it, yes. Drink it, no.”
“Right. You don’t drink from humans. The moral vampires; I forgot.”
A growl cuts off her sass as I step back into her, a flogger in my hand that I picked up and was about to hang back on the wall.
Likely Jasper’s doing.
He loves to punish himself but hates to clean up his messes.
“Don’t test me, love. I would love nothing more than to pierce your thin little vein with my fangs and hear the pop when it opens to me. I bet your blood is the sweetest I’ve ever tasted. I can smell it even now.”
