Page 138 of A Bond in Blood

“How does that feel?” Ulrich whispered.

I glanced up, finding him at the side of the bed, kneeling.

“What?”

“Admitting that.”

I hated his observation. Gods, did I hate how cutting and accurate his words were. I hated my tears that fell even more.

“Like freedom,” I whispered.

Ulrich stood, making his way to the edge of the bed. To my shock, he unbuttoned his shirt, pulling the fabric from his skin.

It fell to the floor. The sound rushing through my blood.

“You let go,” he said quietly.

I gripped the towel around me when his hands went to the ties of his trousers, loosening them with one tug.

“Ulrich.”

“It does not take much to let go, Brenna. Yet you hold onto it all, constantly. Regret.” His trousers hit the ground, and I forced myself to stare only into his eyes. “Hate,” he whispered. His hands landed on the mattress, and he crawled forward. “Shame.” His palms ran up my legs, stopping at the edge of my towel.

“Need.”

I yelled out when the towel was ripped from my body, exposing me to him.

He continued his trek toward me, stopping when he reached my hip. His fingers traced my ink.

“Peace, love, hope, and freedom,” he muttered.

My body was trembling, stealing the words from my lips.

“I am still starving, Brenna,” he whispered, placing his mouth onto my ink. “Last night did nothing but increase my appetite.”

He lifted from me, and I let out a breath of relief mingled with disappointment when suddenly his hands gripped my ankles. My shriek pulled a laugh from his chest, and he dragged my body down until I was laying flat.

I threw my head against the pillow, grasping the sheets under me.

“I’m starving, Brenna,” he whispered.

I couldn't look at him. I couldn’t. Gods I wanted to. Gods—

I pulled my eyes up, finding him staring at me. His gaze hungry.

“Let go.”

His words, once again cut into me. Seeing parts of myself I did not want him to know.

“Please,” I whimpered. “Please.”

“Yes or no,” he replied. “I need an answer.”

My legs shook along with my hands. My eyes went to the ceiling.

“What is this?” I muttered.

“Release. Freedom.Control.”

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