Page 80 of Run, Little Rabbit

“Yes.” Her reply is a little breathless, and her pupils start to dilate.

“Don’t you think you should punish her for breaking and entering?” Angel says as he stalks behind her, the predator in him coming out to play. I love watching him corner his prey; there’s quite a ruthless streak buried under that angelic exterior.

Echo starts to turn in a circle, but I snap my fingers, forcing her attention back towards me. “Eyes on me, princess.”

She stares daggers at me, and I feel her gaze slice against me with the pain of a thousand cuts. “You don’t need to click your fingers at me like I’m a dog.”

I stare straight back. “You shouldn’t be here, Echo.”

“I couldn’t stay away,” she replies softly, a vulnerability creeping into her voice.

“You should.” But I know that’s hypocritical of me. Now that she’s here, I don’t want to let her out of my sight.

I take a step closer to her until I’m barely a foot away. I’m physically unable to stay away from her. I could find her in a crowd, and I’d be struck with the need to claim her. To bite her and cover her in my marks.

Is it obsession?

Damnation?

Feels more like a damn curse. Like I have no control when I’m near her. I’ve never felt this volatile. This goddamnneedy.

My arm darts out, and I wrap my hand around her throat before she can run away. Her eyes widen and her nostrils flare. She doesn’t say anything, just stares those pretty green eyes at me in defiance.

Fuck, I want to break her. I want to break that defiance and bend her to my will.

Maybe it is obsession. Everything about her turns me on.

Echo swallows, and her throat bobs against the palm of my hand. It does something to me. Something visceral.

I lean forward and swipe my tongue along the shell of her ear, and she shudders beneath me.

“S-stop,” she says, but her voice lacks conviction.

“But you like it, pet.”

She huffs. “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what?”

She gasps as my teeth sink into the lobe of her ear. “P-pet… fuck…”

“But you like it.” I scrape my teeth along her jaw, and she shudders again. “You like what I do to you, pet.”

“Stop.” The word is sharp, and I pull back to look at her.

“You don’t really mean that, do you?”

She swallows, and again I feel the movement brush against my hand.

I trail my thumb along the soft edge of her jaw. “Why are you really here, Echo?”

“Can’t you figure that out?” She cocks an eyebrow, and I want to bite it off. That defiance of hers is like catnip to me.

I squeeze my fingers a little tighter around the delicate column of her throat. A little gasp escapes her mouth, and I lean forward to breathe it in. I want to devour everything about her.

“Please, can we punish her?” Angel asks, a needy little whine entwined around each syllable. He positions himself behind her and locks eyes with me over her shoulder.

He looks just as needy as I feel, and I want to capture that. I want to taste it and savour it.

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