Page 39 of Blood Moon Heat

Grabbing my wrists, he shoved them over my head. “Got you.”

“Did you even give me a head start?” I gasped.

“Oh yes.” He leaned in and dragged his nose along my jaw. “Watching you run, your fear so vibrant and wild pouring off you, it does something to me, little doll.” He nipped my ear, making me whimper, then lifted his head. “But catching you, the way that makes you so hot and slick, the way you squirm to escape while silently asking me to make you scream my name has frayed the edges of my control to a point I’m not sure I can stop it from breaking.”

My panted breaths had turned to gasping sobs of need. What he did to me, what he made me want, need, had to be wrong, twisted, but when he held me captive like this, taking from me whatever he wanted, I didn’t care. I snapped my fangs at him, egging him on like the wild creature he made me.

I wanted him to break for me, so badly. I wanted him to lose control.

He gathered up my dress, his violet eyes glowing in the moonlight. “Tell me to stop, Mina.”

I licked my lips, trembling hard. “Stop,” I said, trying to twist from his hold, but there was no escape. I didn’t want to escape. “Stop,” I said again more forcefully as I held his gaze, silently asking him to take whatever it was he wanted, pleading with him to make me feel as good as he had the last time he’d held me down and touched me.

“Fight harder,” he said huskily. “Fight me.”

I slammed my legs together and struggled as if my life depended on it, not holding back, crying and pleading, and, oh gods, what was wrong with me that the harder I fought and the tighter he held me, the hungrier I got for his touch, his blood.

I ached so bad, even more than I had all those times he came to my room on my birthdays. He made me feel this way. He’d turned me into this wanton creature who craved fear and pain.

“Give me a word.”

“What? What word?”

“I know what you need, but if it gets too much, saying your word will make me stop, will let me know you truly want to.”

He could see into the depraved heart of me, and he was going to feed it with his own, but he was giving me a safety net, because Nero would take and take until there was nothing left of me. I could see it in his eyes.

That thought should scare me—instead it made my inner muscles clench. “Pink.” It seemed fitting somehow.

The sound of tearing fabric came as soon as the word left my lips. Cool night air hit the damp and swollen flesh between my thighs. Nero forced my legs wide with his body as he covered me there with his hand.

“Scream, little doll,” he said, then shoved two long, thick fingers inside me.

I did, I screamed, crying and fighting as he thrust them deep inside me. “Oh gods.” I moaned, even as I struggled harder, and the more I struggled, the tighter the tension coiled inside, the deeper and wilder the pleasure rushing up on me grew, and the harder I shook.

“You want to be stuffed full of my cock, don’t you, Mina?” he muttered, thrusting faster. The wet sounds coming from between my thighs were lewd, and my begging for him to stop sounded more like what they truly were—pleas for more, like the dirty, brazen creature he made me. “Like you saw in the club. But you want me to hold you down, to force your thighs apart and fuck you into the floor, don’t you, Mina?”

I sobbed, shaking harder. “Y-yes.” I wanted that so badly. I wanted him to take me, to take it from me.

Nero snarled, then sunk his fangs into my throat. I screamed again, coming around his thrusting fingers as a gush of liquid slid down my thighs. He swiped his tongue over his bite and dropped to his knees in front of me, shoving my dress up to my waist, then buried his face against my swollen flesh, licking and sucking. My knees gave out, but he held me up while he feasted on me in a different way.

I couldn’t explain what it was that he did to me, but this was what I wanted, this was what I needed. I didn’t want to be someone’s princess. I wanted to be held down and used by Nero, by my mate. I wanted him to take pleasure from me, crave me, want only me.

“Please,” I begged, wanting all the things he’d said.

His fingers dug deeper into my hips, and he lapped at me in a way that had me fisting his hair and grinding against him. I screamed a second time, holding him to me while he drew out my pleasure, until the deep pulsing convulsions inside me finally stopped and I collapsed.

He scooped me up before I could hit the floor, holding me to his chest. His grip wasn’t forceful anymore, it was gentle, almost tender as he carried me through the opening in the wall across from us and around to the lot and his waiting car.

He pressed his mouth against the top of my head. “You did so well, Lalka.”

My heart rushed at his words, pleasure of a different kind filling me.

“You pleased me.”

I looked up at the chiseled silhouette of his handsome face. “I—I want to please you.”

His violet eyes locked on mine. “When I touch you, you like to feel helpless, don’t you?” he asked roughly, not a trace of ice in his voice, not anymore.

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