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“The King must stay alive,” he decided.
“Do you think I fear treason?”
“I think you’re the most fearless female alive. But you will never outmatch me, and I’m who they will send to collect your head.”
“First, you would have to find me.”
His hand closed around her throat, framing her jaw and applying pressure until her defiant gaze locked with his. “There is not a corner of this world where you could hide that I would not find you.” His grip tightened. “I’m more than the King’s guard, Lilias. I’m adraugen. Do not speak to me as if I’m some impressionable pup meant to bring your slippers. Cross me, and you will pay. On that, you have my word.”
And pay she had.
The blow dryer shut off,and his gaze returned to the door. The little mortal’s heartbeat frantically purred like the wing of a hummingbird.
Ah, there was nothing sweeter than the sharp tang of torment that flavored a difficult surrender.While her instincts urged her to run, his compulsion overruled any sense of free will.
He crossed the hotel room and opened the bathroom door. “You won’t need a towel.”
Leaving the door ajar, he returned to the bed, propping himself up to watch as she inwardly battled her instincts.
Her hair was finer than it appeared at the club, but the copper dye had gone a long way to making her look more like Lilias. Her employer implied she’d done this before, so her hesitance was strictly the result of her fear. Her instincts likely recognized him as a predator and she as his prey.
Mortals were foolish creatures. They could suffer anything for the right pay. How they weren’t yet extinct was beyond him.
Slowly, her foot stepped onto the carpet, and she crossed the threshold. Her chest rose and fell with every labored breath. As she approached the bed, her body trembled like a leaf.
Reaching out a hand, he caressed the curve of her breast. The nipple reflexively tightened.
“Too light,” he remarked, recalling the distinct ruby shade of Lilias’s areolas. “They were the same red as her lips. Dark like pomegranate seeds. Sweet and tart.”
He pinched the tip of her breast, and her shoulders curled inward, her face strained under the sharp pain.
Cerberus released her flesh with a sharp tug and smirked. “Kneel.”
Tears rushed to her eyes—brown rather than green—but she did as he commanded.
How many times had he fantasized of having her like this—cowering at his feet, eyes wet with fear, willing to do whatever he asked?
“I think I might have you drink my blood, princess.”
Her face paled as her breathing quickened. Humans had such pathetic tolerance for discomfort.
“You don’t like that idea?”
She shook her head.
He rolled his eyes. “Then distract me.”
She glanced about the room but quickly returned her attention to his body. Females of all species understood their role in nature when confronted by a beast. He missed the days when women knew their place. This one did.
She loosened his pants and quickly got to work. He cared little of her comfort and stuffed her mouth until her shoulders jerked.
“Stop trying to lead,” he ordered, fisting her hair.
Some mortals were not naturally submissive, but he found most of them quite teachable. Pain could be a powerful motivator, so any sign of resistance only increased his force.
“Do you think you can escape me now, Lilias?”
She whimpered in confusion, but he did not permit her to answer.
