Page 59 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
Why?
Why had he told her to be emotionless? Was it really because he didn’t want her to hate it?
If anything, it was a risk. If he assumed that those nearby might be too distracted to notice, that may very well be false. What did he get out of not making this as traumatizing as possible? What he’d said was true. She had already given him permission to do this.
His cock glided past her tightening lips. He thrust even harder, and it hit the back of her throat. Pain speared down her esophagus.
She gagged, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.
“Take it, little vampress.” Zarathos’s voice was as black as midnight.
She did take it. The ache easing, her gag reflex getting used to having his cock pressing so far into her throat. Her lack of emotion made her curious. Even powerful.Shefelt nothing, buthe—she moved her tongue, caressing his length.
The rhythm interrupted only briefly, another low growl issuing forth from him. She tightened her lips and this time, shesucked.
“Shit.” The word expelled from him in a single breath, and her sense of power grew. It was a dead sense. Her emotions were a blank slate, but there was some heady knowledge spreading through her that this was her one chance to get back at him. To exert some power over him, even as he debased her before his entire kingdom.
Her incisors slid out. He hadn’t said how long she needed to keep them in.
All it took was the slightest nick on his next thrust, and her venom leaked into him, his blood dripping onto her tongue. Oh, gods. She’d forgotten how exquisite he tasted.
Zarathos inhaled, but didn’t retract. His hold tightened on her hair.
Upon the next thrust, she drew a sliver of blood from his small cut, swallowing it. Her body flooded with heat. It radiated through her, burning her, dropping to her core. Gods.Gods,he taste so good.Hell, yes. Hell, yes.
Zarathos’s breaths became erratic. She gripped his ass, not wanting him to pull away. The Bloodbound mark on her thigh tingled, the exquisite burning ached through her breasts and her lower abdomen, her core pulsing relentlessly. A wetness leaked out between her thighs. Whatever potion she had taken, it wasn’t strong enough to fight this. To fight the effects of his blood on her and her venom on him.
Zarathos let out a roar, sinking down, and a fierce surge of satisfaction shot through her. He had forced her to kneel, but she would bring him to his knees with pure, undeniable pleasure.
Another roar burst from his lips and his cum released into her, sliding hot and slick down her throat. Aryana swallowed it. She had no other choice, but she didn’t release him. She craved it. She wanted more of his blood and cum inside of her.
Zarathos snarled in anger, and a sharp pain tore through her as his claws raked across her bare back. He yanked her head away, forcing her to break contact. He tossed her from him with a huge thrust, flinging her out into the middle of the arena.
Everything happened so quickly that when she landed bleeding in the dirt, she had to wait until the world stopped spinning. The potion had cleared out of her brain with Zarathos’s blood. Whenshe glanced at him, his cock was no longer visible and he glared at her with a deadly malice, his hands clenching and unclenching. His wings spread out from him, making him resemble a dark angel of vengeance. But she’d learned enough of his expressions in the short time they’d been together that she noted something else sparking behind his gaze.
Fear.
Then, the cold realization hit her. She’d ruined everything. He was supposed to be dominating her, not the other way around.
Shit. Had she broken the bargain? Was she about to die?
He turned to the other champions, the crowd hanging on their every breath with a tense, hungry silence as they devoured the scene before them.
“She’s all yours.” With those emotionless words, he stepped back, moving toward the barred waiting area.
Aryana’s heart plunged into her stomach. He’d drawn her blood.He’d drawn her blood in front of an entire arena of demons.And he’d granted them permission to do what they wanted to her.
Forget the bargain. She was dead.
Zarathos was going to let her die here, after all.
The champions didn’t wait. Leaving their platforms, they closed in swiftly. The space around her seemed to shrink, the crowds clamor muffling to a distant roar. Her eyes darted from one champion to the next. They’d tussle over her, rip her limb from limb.
Fight. It was her only option. She could run. But where? There was nowhere to flee. She stood up, blood from Zarathos’s scratches trickling down her spine. A gasp ripped from her lungs when a clawlatched onto her ankle, pulling her feet out from under her. She landed face first on the ground, her heart pounding. Snarls echoed around her.
This was it.
“Master!” The name burst from her in a rush of panic. “Master, please! Help me! I beg you.” Her desperation would drive the demons into a frenzy.
