Chapter 8 #2
“Who’s to say you’re going to win?” I counter, nodding to the vampire who just leapt onto the wolf’s back.
“Alright. Let’s say you win.” He pulls me closer into him, and I instinctively put my hand on his chest to stop him. “What do you want as your reward?”
“You know what I want.” I remove my hand from his chest and turn away from him.
“Besides your freedom,” he probes, forcing my face back to look at him. His eyes trail down to my lips and back up as he holds my chin in between his fingers. “What do you want?”
I think on it for a moment as the weird tension between us grows. “No more shock collar.”
“No way,” he says, letting go of my chin and shaking his head.
“What’s the matter? Worried you’ll lose?” I challenge with a cocky smirk I know will get under his skin.
“Not in the slightest,” he answers with a hint of smugness. “But sure. No more shock collar.”
The idea of that is so enticing, it almost makes me question if I should abort my revenge plot altogether.
But as soon as my eyes stop on the bandage still wrapped around my arm, I’m brought back to my senses.
Even if the vampires do end up pulling out the win, he won’t stop trying to control me.
The burn on my arm is proof that he’ll find other ways to torture me every time I don’t comply with his demands.
The shock collar is just one of his many threats.
A loud whimper draws my attention back to the fight just in time for me to see the vampire release the wolf from his chokehold. The dark grey wolf slumps to the ground while the vampire throws his hands up in victory.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a game,” Thane mumbles, slouching back in his chair.
This time, Kole steps to the center, and I immediately straighten in anticipation. He’s the only fighter I somewhat know, and since he’s related to Thane, I can’t help that my interest has piqued.
Just like the other vampires before him, Kole takes off his shirt and circles the wolf like a predator. There’s a sense of arrogance in the way he walks. Shoulders back. Long strides. It’s as if he knows the wolf, whose jaw is snapping at him, doesn’t stand a chance.
“Your heart is beating a little faster, Grey.” Thane runs his index finger over my chest, and I swat it away.
“I’m just looking forward to tying this thing up,” I dismiss, doing my best to slow my heart rate. It’s not exactly a lie. I am looking forward to watching this particular fight, but there’s a small part of me that also appreciates the view.
“Good,” he purrs, running his hand up the inner part of my thigh, where the slit in my dress has left me vulnerable. “I’d hate to think it’s because you like what you see.”
All of this fabric, and yet his fingers somehow keep finding their way to my skin. I try to stop his hand from advancing any further, but he sinks his fangs into my neck, paralyzing me completely.
Unlike when he marked me, there’s no violent pain that follows.
In fact, the feeling spreading through my veins is almost intoxicating.
Before, there had been a searing sensation, but now it feels electrifying.
Like my whole body is suddenly awake with adrenaline.
Last time, the world seemed to fade away.
Everything became distant and muffled, but now I’m hyper aware of every sound and every move Thane makes.
His hand continues slowly up my thigh, and my heart feels like it’s going to break free from my chest when I realize I’m not wearing any underwear.
When I decided what my revenge would be, I figured it would be better to not wear any, but now that he’s inching closer to that part of my body, I’m fully regretting the decision.
The higher he goes, the more my heart hammers against my ribcage, and judging by the moan he releases, I’m sure he knows it.
I do my best to push down the growing desire threatening to consume me, but my body continues to betray me.
It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by anyone, and certainly never by someone who looks like Thane.
His free hand clasps around the other side of my neck, and my head falls to the side as if to give him more access to me.
The stubble around his mouth tickles my neck as he sinks his fangs deeper into me, feasting on my blood like the animal he is.
A soft whimper slips from my lips like a plea when his fingers stop only an inch from the part of me that now throbs with uncontrollable need.
As his bite deepens, so does my want for him.
Each second that passes, I unravel more and more, waiting for him to slide his fingers into me.
A wild part of me wants to just guide them there myself, but I still can’t seem to move.
The feeling of his touch should disgust me, or at least anger me, but it doesn’t. In fact, every bit of hatred I have toward him seems to vanish in this moment. It doesn’t make any sense, and right now, I don’t need it to.
I just need him.
I draw in a deep breath, waiting for him to claim me with his fingers, but he never does. And somehow, this form of torture is the worst of them all.