Page 39 of Nocte

Not that I care.

She shivers as I approach and backs herself into a corner. Poor little fae. I can hear her pulse tapping into the air. I can taste it in my throat.Thump. Thump.

Yet she hides it well. She holds her head high and stares into my eyes, as though she isn’t afraid. As though she isn’t tensing in anticipation of the nails I brush along her hip. Then upward.

Her breasts are small, not plump like Cassius prefers.No.He isn’t here and I cut him out of my skull. I focus on her, her breathing, that delicate little song. I can’t hear him.

Good.

Still, I don’t touch her. I let my fingers dance in the air just above her skin. I watch her body react more violently than if I had groped her with raking nails and biting teeth. Or perhaps the knife she’s used to. Her hips are small, her thighs thin and compact. I want to see what lies between them, but she clamps her knees together. Her hands fly to her chest, then lower. Up again. She’s fighting the modest part of herself, screaming that this is wrong.

To let a vamryre drink in her naked body is oh so wrong.

The fact that just looking isn’t enough is even worse. I need to touch. Feel. Take. My fingers twitch. I’ll go insane without feeling that delicate skin beneath them.

Your debt,Caspian,Cassius warns, his voice blaring as I attempt to shut him out.

My debt. His pleasure.

Don’t care. Don’t care. I want her. Need to…

Touch. I grip her arms and push her back into the wall so hard she gasps. Terrified. No. She’s impatient, lifting her head to bare the throat she teased.Fuck.It’s like she knows the price I have to pay. She’s daring me to gamble what little of my soul I have left. She’ll make me offer it up to Cassius piece by piece.

Maybe I will.

The sound she makes when I press my hips into hers is too damn soft. She is too damn soft. Her skin is ivory silk, likely to tear with one wrong move. After all, I’ve torn her already, those knobby knees. I crane my neck to eye my handiwork—the first of many bloody masterpieces I’ll make of her before this all ends…

There is nothing beautiful about the healing scabs. They’re too stark against her flesh. I don’t like them, and a new word trickles into my skull from some distant memory.Garish.

Fuck.

She’s messing with my head again. I meet her gaze and silently dare her to continue. Let her think that she can manipulate me. Yet her stare is neither frightened nor defiant.

I look at her and all I see is greedy selfish need. Not for my cock—no, not yet. She is after something else.

“I have what you want, don’t I, fae?” I taunt her, bringing my mouth close to her neck. Close enough to bite. I’d be risking Cassius’ wrath but I don’t care.

I do. I break the rules, and he’ll cut my game short. So I’ll play for now. I just breathe her in, that strange sweet scent. I brush aside a strand of her hair, thick, boundless ebony. Then I run my tongue over the galloping pulse where I long to bite.

Her whimper isn’t what I want to hear. It’s excited. Thrilled. Not terrified. So I lick her again. Again. I press my teeth to her flesh and feel her pulse explode.Thumpthumpthump.The poor thing might hammer itself from her chest if I’m not careful.

Not that I give a damn. Oh, how I long to see that heart in all its glory. One day…

I’m going to rip it from her chest. My fingers shoot out, finding the spot. However, my thumb slips downwards and captures a nipple instead. I watch it harden and feel her entire spine shake in response. No one has ever touched her like this, not even that stupid, male fae.

Her eyes are wide, horrified and brimming with emotions. She can’t reconcile this. Standing still and letting a vamryre defile her.

It’s not like anyone else wants to. Except him.

Except me.

I stroke that peak until it’s sharp enough to cut. Around and around and around I grind her beneath my thumb until she’s choking on a broken sound that can’t quite leave her throat. I’ve made my point. It should be enough.

But it isn’t.

I capture her entire breast against my palm. Squeeze. Caress. Crush.

She whimpers again, her face turned away from me, chest heaving. Terror should be the emotion gripping her. Yes, that’s what I want. What I crave…