Page 9 of Taken By the Vampires
“I don’t care what you prefer,” I said, still trying to move from his lap, but he was too big, too strong and I was too weak to be able to do anything about it. I was bone-tired, strung out, and worried. I was helpless against these men but I preferred to fight.
“That’s my girl. I like to see your fire.” His face lit for a moment. The stern look dissolved into something resembling amusement. His face transformed from handsome into devastating. My mouth went dry. Confusion became a palpable thing. How could he be so stern one moment, and then like –this– the next? I looked away from his face and into the flames, not trusting myself.
My hand brushed over the towel that barely covered my thigh. I clutched the tucked edge beneath my arms, making sure it was secure, more aware than anything of the body heat from his thighs burning through the fluffy material. It felt as intimate as things had with Davon.
I wondered how Xander might bring me to climax. How fast. I closed my eyes, disgusted by my wantonness, my breathing shallow and sharp. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I wasn’t like this. Ever. I had to admit, it was more than a little frightening. I wondered if they’d drugged me while I was sick, pumped some sort of aphrodisiac into me, because it certainly felt like it.
“I want some clothes.” Demands. Fighting. I could do that.
“I will get you clothing.”
“What about pyjamas?”
“As well as pyjamas.”
“And how do you even have these things?” Maybe if there was another woman, or staff I’d be able to talk with her. Get her to help me.
“This house is magic. We can get anything we need for however long we need to stay.”
“That’s not even an answer.”
“Not a logical one, no.”
“Then how about a phone.”
Xander’s lips twitched. “Some things we are yet to be able to procure. The rest I will get after you eat.”
I paused, placated for the moment, yet still needing to assert some sort of control over a situation that was so clearly out of my control. My fingers twitched on the edge of the towel. “And I’m not your girl.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
I was about to argue when a wonderful aroma burst into the room. My stomach cramped and my dry mouth watered. I was starving. It seemed being ill for six days would do that to a girl.
Maybe that’s why I was so out of sorts. Exhausted. Weak and hungry. Not a good combination. That had to be it. It had to be.
Cassius pulled a small table and set a tray with a steaming, thin brown broth in the middle. It didn’t look like much, but I knew enough that if it was any more than that, my stomach would reject it. Maybe they were kinder than they looked.
Cassius drew a chair close and then picked up the tray, spooned up some broth and held it to my mouth.
“I can feed myself.” I’d been feeding myself, my mother and the entire herd of animals on my farm since I’d been fourteen. I didn’t need anyone feeding me now.
“I know you can feed yourself, but I want to feed you. Davon has washed you, Xander is comforting you and I get to feed you.” Cassius’ eyes flashed a brilliant red—but that could have been the firelight—before he touched my bottom lip with the spoon. A drop from the utensil landed on the tip of my tongue. As soon as I tasted the broth, I couldn’t help myself and I devoured the contents of the spoon.
A grown man feeding a grown woman who was quite capable of feeding herself was ridiculous. I glared at Cassius while he fed me and refused to hand over the spoon, which made me even angrier.
Cassius just chuckled and made short work of feeding me, and I sat there and opened my mouth like a baby bird until I’d finished the bowl. I was full, warm, clean, and the fire crackling within the huge gothic-styled mantelpiece was strangely comforting, despite my circumstances.
Xander drew me against his chest. Drowsy now, I leaned my head against his shoulder, the weight too heavy to keep upright. He rubbed my arm and a false sense of comfort stole over me.
I looked for the ulterior motive, but it wasn’t clear. They could do anything to me, yet they’d washed me, fed me and were keeping me warm. I couldn’t help but think there was something I was missing, but the crackling fire and quiet of the room made it hard to keep my eyes open.
“You have to be the most hospitable captors ever,” I said.
“And what makes you think we’re your captors?” Davon asked, crossing his arms and leaning on the edge of the mantelpiece.
“Because you won’t let me leave,” I said.
“That is for your own safety. There’s a blizzard outside and we’re very remote here,” Cassius said.
