“What are you doing here? Get–get out!” She lay back down in a hurry. Water splashed. Most bubbles had popped, leaving a thin layer only. She faced the ceiling instead of him.“You were taking such a long time.” His lazy drawl made her body warmer than what the water—which was no longer warm—could have ever done. She crossed her arms to cover her chest, feeling his eyes on her. “I don’t care. Get out! I—” She got flustered.Hearing a whirl, she jerked up, exposing herself again. In the corner of her eyes, the black and slate-gray of his suit formed out of seemingly nothing. The motion had caused the illusion.He had crossed the distance between them, instead of obeying or replying to her demands. She looked up at him towering over her bathtub. His eyes were so hooded they were almost a slit, making him appear cunning. And cruel. Like a snake.“I asked, “what are you doing here?”,” she said sharply.“I owe you no answer. You’re going to serve me.”“You son of a—Ugh!” She yelped as sh
“I did nothing wrong! Please!” A voice screeched somewhere outside. “Let me go. Please. No. Fuck you!”The familiar nasal tone made her immediately rush to the nearest window. She put her hands on the glass panels. The scene in the garden confirmed her thought: it was Monica, in two pieces of clothes that barely cover anything, twisting wildly in two guards’ grips who were hauling her along. “Do you see that?” The sudden breath into her ear nearly made her jump out of her skin. “Imagine the hell she’d have to go through…” His lazy drawl suggested he didn’t have a care in the world. “If only you are not so stubborn…” Monica continued to struggle. They were sending her to the dungeon. This shouldn’t be happening. “Leave my friend alone. She has nothing to do with this.” She slammed the glass panel in frustration. This was her fault.“Why?”She spun around and ended up in his arms. He had been standing too close. She took a step back, which only sent her up against the glass panels. T
She nestled her head into his short, jet-black hair. He had taken away her dignity step by step. She had nothing now. “Ma-master,” she stuttered. “That’s good. Say that again,” he encouraged softly. “Master,” she repeated. This was where she had truly lost her sense of identity. His hand cradled the back of her head. She felt her being pulled away from him, just enough she could see his face. His lips were red and shiny, painted with her blood. Combined with the pale skin, he looked utterly terrifying, but that face and that body would never lose the seduction they held. Her eyelids became so heavy. Still, she was well aware of his devouring gaze that trailed her face down to her waist, where the robe hung loose. When his eyes returned to her face, she wondered if he was going to tear her apart down to her soul. “To answer your question,” he rumbled. “You may go. You need rest. Before we depart.” Rest. That felt like a command. She yawned, and the world faded away before sh
Within two short days, since she signed the slave contract, she might have lost her senses. His hushed warning sounded ominous, dangerous, and seductive. She leaned into his touch instead of pulling away when he flopped her down on the leather seat.Her brain still felt foggy when she saw him sitting up and alert across the seat. His fangs protruded along with his claws. His eyes glowed fiercer than ever. A predator encountering something that challenged his power, his stance suggested, and he would be merciless, destroying the rivalry.“What’s wrong?” she asked.His glowing eyes leaped to her sharply as though the answer was within her. “Me? Or are you suggesting I’m in danger?” She couldn’t believe she giggled.It was just a weird idea growing in her. Her life was over since she had met Reign. She had ended it for good when she drugged him and put the horrendous spell on him. She had become a criminal, then a blood slave. There was nothing she could do, or rather she would want to
This was nothing to her. Throughout her life, she had unavoidably hurt herself. She even missed those times as odd as it sounded; fighting, hunting, and everything about it. A sadness flicked through her.On his end, his eyes were full of intent—dark and palpable—as he watched her pick up the knife without much hesitation. There was more to this demand of his, wasn’t there? As much as she wasn’t afraid of this amount of pain, she struggled with her earlier idea, again.Sadness and anger battled in her heart. He had handed her an actual weapon, on his own accord. The hilt of the knife in her grip liberated her from the haze of desire and lust he had wrapped her in. She tried to hide the grisly hope so that it would show on her face.She placed the sharp end of the blade on her palm, with
“You shouldn’t!” she protested, looking at the headboard. “What about my neck, my wrist, there are many places you could–” she could not finish her sentence as he gripped her waist tighter.“Look at me!” Under his command, she peered down at him. They were too close, too pressed together, for her to get a proper look at him, but he was obviously upset.“Being my blood slave means,” he began, his tone harsh, “You must satiate my hunger in whatever, whenever, and however way I would want it to be. You should have read the contract.”She had a lump in her throat when she admitted she was aware of that.“I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding,” he responded, rather business-like before his fingers resumed their work, trailing the lines of her bras. He was restarting what he had done in the drives prior to this. His touch was gentle and playful, but never gave her what she secretly wanted. He knew what he was doing since he was savoring her whimpers by staring at her face while his fing
The face towering inches above her instantly jerked away. What was she doing so close to her? Danica felt her body and ended up touching laces and fabric so thin. She sat up, too fast, and felt light-headed.She took a deep breath. At least, the bites were healed. “She woke up, my lord.”“Leave.”His curt voice was enough to arouse the quite recent memories; blood rushed to her face. As the flight attendant stepped away, Danica looked in his direction to see him in his seat, suited in midnight blue–with diamonds on his lapels, as usual. Flashbacks of them, naked and intertwining, pounded in her head.“What do you think of the dress?” He looked distracted. She was the opposite. “This is… not a dress!” “Um-hm.”“That’s all you’ve to say? Why am I wearing this scrap of cloth? It’s so sheer like I’m naked.” “You’re not naked.” He was looking at something concealed in his hands. “Don’t have to tell me what it looks like. It covers you enough,” He broke his focus on whatever he was hold
Surprised, she gripped the railings with both hands. It was a mob, a mob of vampires and some humans who were trying to keep up with the pace of the former. They were holding up signs, which she could hardly make out in the dim light. The roars became louder as they approached the jet. The stairs quaked underneath her stilettos as the ground vibrated with their thundering footsteps. She tried to understand what was going on: these were protestors, demanding… to kill her. “She cursed the crown prince!” “Execute her!”“Behead her!”In no time, they closed in on the jet, causing her to step back up. They appeared to want more than just to protest. They wanted to punish her themselves as they outstretched their hands, approaching the stairway fast. She could now see the signs: drawings and nasty names, all of which were revolting and horrifying. They had dehumanized her completely. They would tear her apart if they could land their hands on her. Suddenly, the roars died down; they s