Page 43 of A Love So Deadly
I look about and spot what I’m looking for right away—a coil of red rope hanging on the wall.
I haven’t used that one. It’s been sitting there. I’ve been saving it for the perfect being, and ever since the moment Elliot walked through VMR’s doors, I’ve pictured her tied up and at my mercy. It’s only fitting.
“Lucian?”
I do hate my name being shortened, but for some reason I miss her snark of Lucy. “Yes, Monty?”
“W-what is this place?” She looks around, dark fascination in the sunshine of her, and it makes me fucking hard.
I glance away from that rope a moment. “A dungeon. For sex. Decadent, perfect sex. What do you think it is?”
“Not that,” she says with a wave of her hand, picking up that red rope I was looking at and running her fingers over it. “Those people. I saw blood.”
Fuck, she wasn’t asking about my room. She’s curious about what she saw. The vampires, the things they were doing out there as we entered.
In such a place like this, no one needs to hide. “Some people are into blood play.” Literally. The vampire and their pet, drinking, licking, bringing them both to orgasmic bliss.
I go to her and take the rope, letting it unwind. It’s soft, new, and will look perfect wrapped around her pale, pristine skin. Better than the sparkling dress. I should have gotten her red, or a pink rose.
But in here… She doesn’t need the dress at all.
“Take off your dress.” The order might be softly spoken, but it’s clear.
Her spine stiffens. Fuck, she’s perfect. The innate response to the order is exquisite.
Even though she studies me thoughtfully, I can hear the increase of her heart, the way her blood rides fast against the surface of her skin. She’s turned on and itching to obey that command.
“And if I don’t want to?” she says.
“I could send you out there. To spend…quality timewith everyone else.”
She just stares me down. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
Her mind’s processing it all. I know I’m being more direct with my intentions now. I’m dangling sex and games right in front of her. But I want her. Pure, complicated, utterly simple.
If I finally feed off her, then she’s mine. My toy, my slave, mine.
I want her truly as mine.
Claiming Monty makes a more permanent attachment. She’ll be under my protection, my command, and those claimings, by definition, only end with death.
She’s forbidden. The worst kind, too, because it’s a rule of my own doing, a personal oath I gave myself to follow. And I have followed it strictly. Since Nell I swore…
I swore I’d never claim another human. I swore I’d never fuck one.
But that all broke apart when I kissed Monty, when I touched her.
She soothes the beast within because of her freshness of her, the light, the life. I need the thing I don’t have. That spark. I crave it.
My cock’s hard, and my fangs long to grow.
“Take off your fucking dress,” I say again, more aggressively.
She swallows as she tugs at it, hands never sitting still. “I-I don’t want to.”
“Thing is, you do,” I say. The pulse in her throat throbs, the thud of her heart is in my ears, and I can hear the uptick of her blood moving fast, making her cheeks grow pink. “You want to strip down and see what I’ll do to you.”
