Chapter 6
SIX
EUN
This wasn’t safe at all.
It had been so long.
I thought I was through the worst of it, that I was at the point where I could control it.
Even though I knew I wasn't safe, part of me had thought, well, maybe, just maybe it would be okay. I hadn't felt the urge when around any of the restaurant patrons, but there it was again, rearing its ugly head, ready to strike. I could feel the hunger that twisted through my entire body like a parasite demanding strange sustenance, an instinct I didn’t want, I never wanted, but I couldn’t escape due to the circumstances of my upbringing.
I thought I had gotten past the urges, yet the desire clawed at my insides.
She was so soft in my arms, so fragile.
I could taste the tenderness of her skin as my hair brushed up against it.
I shouldn't have let it grow so long.
I shouldn’t be holding her.
She had pushed me towards the bed with determination, insisting that I sleep with her, and for a brief moment, I fooled myself into thinking it would be okay if I gave her what she was demanding.
She was so soft. I loved touching her, so I gave in and pulled her into my arms. The moment that she settled against me, her squishy form pressing against me like it had always belonged there, the instinct had roared up within me.
The ache in me, the need, the hunger.
I wanted to bite her, to sink my teeth into her throat and tear it out.
That desire filled me with horror even as I let out another snarl.
I never wanted to hurt anyone. It was why I was here, in this apartment, instead of where I was supposed to be.
I couldn't get away from it if I stayed home.
The instinct clawed its way up my throat, and I snarled into the air as I snapped my teeth around nothing at all, lifting my face up so that those cruel teeth were away from her, even as my arms tightened around her, pulling her flush against my body, rubbing against her, preventing the chance that she would escape.
I couldn’t let her go; she was mine.
I had to let her go.
I had to get off this bed and go to the other side of the room and keep my instincts in check.
I could feel saliva building in my mouth.
I needed to calm down. I couldn't calm down.
My heart was beating with the rhythm of a song as old as time, and as I felt her softness press against me, vulnerable and mine, the heat of my desire roared, stiffening every part of me, including the part of me that pressed against her belly.
Her cold hand slid down my body, and I felt the trail of her touch like it was being carved into my flesh with claws of desire.
Her fingers moved along the edges of where our bodies were pressed together and found the edge of my trousers, tracing them.
I sucked in a sharp breath, and suddenly my hunger ran straight into the brick wall of a new instinct.
Every ounce of my attention focused on her gentle touch.
My body heated, the addictive craving pushed back by a sudden, shocking awareness of the soft curves of her, of her delicate touch, of the taste of her skin as the strands of my hair slipped up along her bare leg.
She had put on one of my shirts again to go to bed. She was drenched in the scent of me.
She was soft, vulnerable, and she was mine.
She shifted, and my grip on her relaxed, just enough to give her the room to lift her elbow and angle her fingers into the edge of my trousers.
She slid her hand down.
I let out a gasp as her soft palm slid against my bare skin.
The blood rushed down away from the swirling torment of my desire to bite, to claw, and surged into the thick part of me that lay between my legs, a part of me that hadn’t ever been touched by another being other than myself.
But the sensations overwhelmed me: her hand wrapping around it, her fingers gently feeling along it as she felt the small ridges along my shaft - her hand drifting around to find my balls...
She dug her fingernails into the tender flesh of my sack.
I let out a yelp at the sudden, sharp pain and utter panic.
I reached down to grab her wrist, to try to pull her hand away, still holding her tight against me.
"No, no, no, no," I said as her fingernails pinched at my skin, tightening as I tried to tug her hand away, but she didn't let go.
It was clear that if I tried to force her hand away, she would do damage. Even if her fingernails were rounded and her hands small, that part of me was delicate enough that she could do serious damage. She tightened her grip a little more, and my panic grew.
"Please stop," I begged.
I let out another gasp as she released her hold, just enough to stop hurting me, but not letting go.
“What are you doing?” I asked, not needing the answer. I knew what she was doing. It wasn’t subtle when a predator was about to lose it. She was defending herself from me.
She had to realize I was fighting with myself, with my desire to sink my teeth into her tender flesh to tear her apart and devour her.
So she had taken her safety into her own hand.
My admiration for her skyrocketed. Not only had she escaped from a hunting pack, not only was she handling being in a strange place without knowing the language admirably well, but when confronted with the danger of me, she hadn't panicked or frozen.
If she had struggled to get out of my grip, I could have bitten her.
I wasn't in the right state of mind, and she had done the best possible thing she could have to take control of the situation.
Now I had to just get out of this without my balls being ripped off.
She said something, her tone firm.
“I’m under control,” I said, still holding onto her tight. “I won’t hurt you.”
"No hand," she said, her words not making any sense as her own hand flexed on me.
It felt good, too good.
I stifled a groan as she shifted me around in her hand, touching me in a new way, and I felt myself start to thicken further, a hot spike of need rushing through me, a desire to take her, flip her over, and lift her hips up, a desire to take what couldn't be offered freely without the words to make sense of it all.
Fuck, I wanted to fuck her.
That desire was hard and powerful, rushing over the feral need to bite and kill, and the relief of it was terrifying and delirious. I'd never wanted to fuck my prey before. This was confusing, and the touch of her hand on me was too much.
“No,” I told her. "Please."
"No hand," she insisted, her free hand reaching up to tap the arms that pinned her against me.
I had been clutching at her this whole time. Even as I said no, I hadn’t let her go.
I released her, freeing her from the trap of my arms that had pinned her close enough to bite.
She let go of me just as suddenly as she grabbed me, sliding her hand up out of my trousers, her eyes fixed on me as she crept back away from me, watching me for any movement.
I held still, forcing my hair back so it wouldn't reach for her.
She grabbed the pillow and slid off the bed, and went across the room to where I had slept the night before.
She dropped the pillow down and lay on top of it, staring at me the entire time.
"I'm sorry I grabbed you like that," I told her. "You were right to defend yourself."
I could have killed her, all because for a brief moment I thought it would be okay if I let her get closer to me.
But she was prey; I could never be close to her.
"I sorry hand touch," she told me.
I stayed there in the bed, staring back at her from across the room. She didn't break away from my gaze, and something in my heart shuddered. I closed my eyes, separating myself from the intensity of her gaze without turning away from it.
She had done something I didn’t know was possible.
She had taken my hunger, my instinct, and redirected it.
I had never lusted after an herbivore before, not in that way.
I had never considered being with a prey species, as no matter what the law said, it was obscene.
I’d only ever felt the sickening flashes of wanting to eat them; the idea of mating with them made me sick to my stomach, as it was taking the abusive balance of power to a level I'd never thought acceptable, not for me anyway.
She had taken my instincts and redirected them with her touch.
I wanted her under me, crying out my name.
I wanted her in my bed again.
The urge was too strong, and I needed to give in to it before it grew into something worse.
My eyes snapped open, and I lurched off the bed so suddenly that she had a standard prey reaction, her entire body tensing up as she suddenly froze in place.
I was over to her in a flash, a flash of vicious glee slicing into me as I pounced on her, scooping her up, pillow and all, before depositing her gently back down on my bed.
“You stay on the bed,” I said. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Then I grabbed the blanket and yanked it up to cover her entirely, hiding her from my sight.
I went back over to the floor and lay down with my back to her, turning away from her so I didn't stare at her, imagining things about her I had no right to imagine. I felt her eyes on me, but I didn’t look over.
If I stared at her for too long, the thoughts my mind would turn to would draw me back to her side.
I had to keep her safe.
Regret flooded me as I knew what that meant.
Tomorrow I’d find her a new place to live.
For now, the discomfort of the hard floor would give me something to think about other than replaying the way her hand had slid down my abdomen, the way she had taken me in her hand, shocking my every sense with the combination of her scent and touch.
That memory was now etched into my mind, carved into my heart with the thought of possibilities that had never seemed within my own grasp.
When she grabbed me, she had taken hold of me in more ways than one.