Chapter 19 Escort Me to the Bathroom
Escort Me to the Bathroom
Three weeks later
Victor’s hand wrapped around my neck as he thrust into me from behind. We laid on our sides, his other hand’s nails extended into claws and piercing the skin on my hip, the smell of my blood in the air spurring him into a frenzy.
I hadn’t been some blushing virgin when we’d met—I knew what kind of sex worked for me, what I liked, what felt good, and how to make it feel good… and rough sex wasn’t usually it.
But that was all he cared for and maddeningly, I was still able to come each time. It was like he’d manufactured a need based on his own desire and my body rose to fill it.
He chalked it up to being an alpha, as though that somehow made him smarter about my own body than I was, forcing the omega in me to crave him and bow to his will until I enjoyed what he liked, too.
So yes, he could force an orgasm from me. But that’s what it was—force. It wasn’t coaxing or building. It was something he knew how to take whenever he wanted. And despite knowing all this, I still reached for him in ways that made me hate myself almost as much as I hated him.
“You like that, don’t you, omega? You like taking this thick alpha cock.”
His grip around my neck tightened, and I cringed, then whimpered in the affirmative. Dirty talk wasn’t my thing either, but he’d eventually worn me down into submission, and it was easier just to go along with what he wanted.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Such a good girl, such a good mate, aren’t you?”
I whimpered again, starting to feel lightheaded.
For as much as he claimed to know my body, he certainly ignored my limitations. I’d warned him time and time again that with my heart and the blood he demanded from me he needed to be careful when he choked me or bit me in bed. But he always seemed to forget.
The claws on my hip receded and his hand slid down, his fingers now rubbing my clit. “Come for me, mate. Give your alpha another one.”
He was relentless today. We’d fallen in a pattern of him coming home in the morning, having sex, sleeping, maybe a mid-day quickie, and then waking up around sunset to have sex one more time before he left for the night.
I glanced at the clock—it was three in the afternoon, we were on round five, and I was exhausted, too tired to make much sound.
But the orgasm rippled through as he commanded, almost painfully, and the way I clenched around him inside me was proof enough of his success.
He roared his release in return, his hands turning to hard rock around me and making me see stars, my skin growing cold.
* * *
Victor blotted my forehead with a cool, damp cloth. “Ah, there you are. I’m sorry, darling, I’m still learning how to control my strength around you.”
He offered me a tall glass of Sanguis Vita and laughed at the disgusted grimace that took over my features. “If I could make a more pleasant variety for you I would.”
I pushed myself up to a sitting position by my elbows, resting against the headboard as he held the straw for me and I choked down the disgusting, iron-rich sludge.
Every Magik gained a boost in power if they found and bonded to their mate, but also a weakness. For vampires, their strength came at the cost of their blood sources, because he could only feed from me from now on, and he needed a lot.
For witches, our spells became amplified but then tied to the emotions of our mate.
If they were mad, upset, happy—all that was reflected in our work, which relied a lot on intentions.
Not that I’d had a chance to even see the difference in my abilities, since Victor didn’t allow me to have a cauldron and runed the place against witch magic.
He didn’t allow me to have anything from my old life, in fact. I didn’t know if he’d thrown everything away or stuck it all in storage somewhere, but he wouldn’t even give me my old family photo albums or my gaming system, because he insisted on providing me with everything.
Not having my cauldron was awful, but a distant second was definitely the clothes.
Victor wanted me in sexy little nightgowns and lingerie only.
Twenty-four seven. There was not a single pair of pants, no underwear that covered my whole ass, and absolutely no cotton—everything was silk, satin, or lace. I didn’t even have any shoes.
The smell of the Sanguis Vita was making me ill.
“You know,” I said, between gagging, “if you let me have my cauldron and some ingredients, I bet I could—”
“No.”
I bit the inside of my cheek in frustration, doing my best to keep my tone sweet. “Can I at least have my spell books? Maybe I could come up with a recipe and some other witch—”
“No!” he repeated, not bothering to hide his anger.
With that, his limit on my aftercare had been hit—it always hit faster if I made him upset—and he shoved the glass in my hands and headed towards the bathroom. “I want that finished by the time I’m done.”
My face heated as I stared at the sludge. Why did he have to make me feel like a misbehaving child all the time?
The door slammed shut and the shower turned on.
I probably only had a few minutes until he came back out, and quickly downed about half of it.
My face scrunched in disgust, and as I paused to convince my stomach not to send everything back up in protest, his phone lit with an incoming message from the bedside table.
My interest piqued. I hadn’t had access to a phone or a computer since that night we’d met.
I wondered if it was at all possible to guess his passcode and just send a quick message to my parents.
I always called them once a week, no matter how busy I was, so they must have been worried sick with my silence.
Victor’s paranoia surrounding the knowledge of our bond was over the top and suffocating, but I still didn’t know why he wouldn’t let me tell my parents I was alive and safe.
Well, safe-ish.
Curiosity got the better of me and I took a look at the screen.
Jessyka: Can’t wait to see you again tonight! <3
My stomach flipped like a rug had been slipped out from under me, and I was going to be sick for real.
I ran out of the bedroom and into the half-bath down the hall, puking up all the Sanguis Vita I’d just drank, tears rolling uncontrollably down my cheeks.
Who was Jessyka? And why did I care? I didn’t even like Victor, but he was my mate, my bonded alpha, and that relationship and the power he held over me was all I had. He was a star, too large for a small planet like me to avoid his gravitational pull, and I was hopelessly stuck in his orbit.
And he insisted that feeling was mutual, that I was all he thought about, but then…
Who was Jessyka?
Victor knocked at the door. “Sage? What’s wrong? You didn’t finish your drink.”
“Go away,” I groaned, hiccuping and crying.
I double checked that I’d locked the door, but I should have known better than to hope he would ever give me any privacy. He pushed it open with ease, fury rolling off him in invisible waves. “You don’t ever tell me to go away, understood? Now tell me this instant what’s gotten into you.”
I heaved again, and I could feel his rage begin to lessen just a fraction, as thought he was actually worried I might be sick, until I gathered my courage and spat, “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve gotten into? Or rather, who you’ve gotten into?”
He stilled, his expression unchanging. He didn’t even breathe, and you could have mistaken him for a statue if not for the one, brief blink of his eyes. “What are you even talking about?”
The temperature dropped in the small bathroom, and I shivered before feeling my stomach muscles contract again, trying to help the disgusting blood supplemental vacate the rest of the way. “Jessyka,” I finally said. “She can’t wait to see you again.”
I prepared myself for another round of his vitriol, some clever punishment to get me in line until I apologized to him, but instead he chuckled. “Those instincts are finally kicking in, I see.”
He flushed the toilet and then sat down and drew me in, digging his nose into my hair and sighing happily.
“There’s nothing quite like a jealous omega.
Should I bring Jessyka here so you can stake your claim in front of her?
Put her in her place? Do you want to fuck me in front of all the women in Lundaria so they know exactly who is Premier Victor Corvane’s mate? ”
No, I absolutely did not want to do that. I didn’t like being jealous, and I wasn’t the fighting type. If some other woman wanted Victor and he wanted me to piss all over him in some gross, primal display of ownership, well… he’d mated with the wrong witch.
But that was the type of alpha he was, and the type of omega he desired. The ego boost from having women fight over him was probably more empowering than twenty pints of my blood.
“Who is she?” I asked again, letting myself succumb to his touch. To find comfort in the feel of his skin against mine. The only comfort I had.
“No one, just an escort.”
When I felt myself want to puke again he held me tighter.
“Shh, that’s not what you think it means.
I hired her to accompany for appearances’ sake, to keep things professional.
She knows I’m not interested in sex, but we are pretending to be a couple.
I’m rarely without a woman by my side, so if I were suddenly alone, people might get suspicious. ”
“But why can’t you bring me?” I whimpered. “I don’t understand.”
He sighed, running his hand down his face. “Sage, I’m not fucking Jessyka. I’m not fucking anyone but you. I don’t want to fuck anyone but you. You’re my mate.”
“But then why is she texting you like that? You hide me like I’m an embarrassment,” I whimpered, my voice quiet and pained.
“Just tell me the truth—I’m not beautiful enough to be at your side at parties or the opera or whatever you do and need a date for.
That you’re disappointed I’m not the woman from the parade you thought I was. ”
“Sage,” he said, his voice becoming clipped again.
“I’m tired of explaining this. I’m not embarrassed by you.
My ‘type’ only exists because I mistook someone else for my true mate, but before that day, my exes were far more diverse, including women who looked like you.
This insecurity of yours is the only unattractive thing about you, and I insist you stop comparing yourself to whoever you think is your competition, because there is none. ”
Jealousy was hot and insecurity wasn’t, apparently. And of course my feelings were the unattractive ones.
He kissed me on the top of my head. “Do you know how many Premiers have mates?”
I’d never really thought too much about the other Premiers. Belladonna Eldritch from Cindralis was married and had a few children, but I’d never heard if her husband was her mate or not.
“… No?”
“Me neither,” he replied. “I could be the only one, or they could all be mated. But you know as well as I do that the blessing of a mate also comes with a liability. I can only feed from you now. So what would happen if my enemies figured out you existed? They could take you and demand anything for your return or, Sanguiel forbid, kill you. And then where would I be? Don’t be so selfish, darling. ”
Ah yes, me, the “selfish” one.
But it wasn’t worth the trouble to argue with him.
“I’m sorry, Victor.”
He ran his fingers gently down my arms. “Brush your teeth and come back to the bedroom, so you can get on your knees and show me how sorry you are, hm?”
Witches were one of the few Magiks without fangs, which made it easier for him to be as aggressive with my face as he was with the rest of me. I hid my wince as I thought about what was to come.
“Yes, Victor.”