Page 5 of Taming His Mate

“Please,” I gasp. I’m not sure what I’m asking for. Please, make me come?Or,please,call me your whore again.

“That’s it. Beg me.” His arms are braced on either side of my head as he pulls back and snaps his hips forward. In and out, balls slapping against my ass with each plunge. The head of his cock hitting the bundle of nerves deep inside that makes my stomach twist and my mouth go dry.

Curling my fingers around the chains shackling me, I arch up into him. Wanting him deeper. Needing him closer. Sweat prickles across my forehead as soft moans roll off my tongue with each powerful thrust.

“I’m going to fuck you whenever I want to, Isabelle,” he promises. “Your cunt, your throat and your ass. You’re mine to use when and as I like. I’ll keep you tied up like my own little toy. I’ll make you pay for all the years you teased me, treated me like a fucking cuckhold.”

Each word is punctuated with a slap of his hips. His thrusts bruise the insides of my thighs as he forces them wider so he can drive himself even deeper. And I love it. I love this depraved side of Luka I never knew existed.

A sob escapes from my throat as the first tingle of my orgasm starts low in my belly.

“You’re gonna milk every drop of my cum with your slutty cunt while I make you come undone under me,” Luka pants. His head kicks back and he groans. “Fuck yeah. That’s it, baby.”

My core clenches and my pussy clamps down around his cock that’s pistoning in and out of me. His dirty talk has me pulsing around him. I had no idea my sweet beast was capable of this kind of harsh domination and hurtful degradation. A wail bursts from my lungs and my eyes roll back in my head with the first crash of my orgasm.

“Did you come this hard for Marcus?” Luka pants in my ear. “What did you have to do to get his crusty dick to weep for you?”

“No,” I moan. The mention of my former lover douses me in ice water, but it’s too late and I’m already falling off the edge. My hips buck to meet each of his punishing thrusts even as the pleasure falls painfully flat. Forced to ride an orgasm that is no longer twisting me in knots and has lost its momentum.

His head falls forward and his hips pump once… twice… then they press deep as he lashes my womb with ropes of creamy cum. “Such a good girl, take my cum. Milk every drop.”

And I do. My greedy cunt sucks him dry.

When we’re both spent, he falls forward, catching himself at the last moment before he pushes back. We’re both panting when he pulls his softening cock free with a pop and watches as his pearly spend leaks out.

He didn’t knot me.The disappointed thought comes unbidden. Then I remind myself that I don’twanthis beast to knot me. If he knots me, he’ll claim me and then I’ll be useless to my faction. I’ll be trapped with a mate who hates me.

Luka pushes his sandy hair out of his eyes, where it’s fallen out of its careful style and rolls off me. After he pulls his pants on, not bothering with his shirt, he reaches behind the bed for the lever that loosens the chains again. While I situate myself, so my dress is back in order and I’m sitting, he pulls the chair back to the side of the bed. He hands me one of the plates he brought and takes the other. The breaded veal is cold and no longer crisp, but I eat it anyway. Starving after the rough sex we just had.

We eat in awkward silence while my mind spins trying to think of how I’m going to escape. My faction must be sick with worry.

When we finish, he collects the plates and cutlery and hands me a bottle of water. I’m just about to ask if I can use the bathroom when he pulls a plastic bedpan out from under the bed.

I stare at the pink basin he sets next to me for a long time before folding my arms across my chest. “I’m not fucking using that.”

“Well, I’m not unchaining you. So, you either use it, or you piss the bed and lie in it until I return.” Despite his harsh words, his tone is soft, almost apologetic.

“You’re being ridiculous. I’m only asking to use the bathroom. I promise I won’t try anything,” I lie.

He scoffs, “I wish I could believe you, Izzy.”

Trying a different tactic, I purse my lips and look up at him from under my thick lashes, “What’s your hurry? Loosen these chains and I’ll let you fuck my throat, like you said you wanted.”

He lets out a heavy sigh and then reaches behind me to tighten the chains again. I notice they aren’t so tight this time, leaving me with a little bit of movement. But still not enough to escape from the bed.

“I almost forgot,” Luka tosses a pint of bagged blood that lands next to the bedpan. “Dessert.”

Even through the thick plastic casing I can smell the ambrosia of the blood inside. I know without asking that it’s Luka’s and as much as I want to throw it back at him, my hands tremble as I reach for it. I hate that I’m distracted by the blood and the way my mouth waters, anticipating the rich, coppery taste. My fangsacheas I close my eyes, imagining it’s his throat I bite instead of the bitter plastic.

To rip it out.

When the first drops hit my tongue, I can’t hold back the moans that roll up my throat. I nurse at the pouch with greedy pulls, imagining that I’m curled up against Luka’s chest as I feed. That his arms are wrapped around me and that it’s his hands that shackle my wrists as I feed from his throat.

Too soon, I’ve drained it. When I open my eyes, the room is dark again and I’m alone. Luka is gone.

3

LUKA

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