Page 15 of Captured By the Scaled Outlaw
He’s distracted.I think, watching his shoulders relax with another deep inhale.
“You smell delicious,” he mumbles, dragging his tongues across my chin. Goosebumps rise over my arms, a small shiver shaking my hips.
For a moment, I’m lost in the sensation, Lowell’s fevered breathing enveloping me in covetous warmth while his arms cage me to my chair. Despite every reason to be afraid, I find myself melting as though I’m back at home, wrapped in a plush comforter.
It’s been many years since someone has been this close to me, threatening or otherwise. A life of solitude has made me dangerously starved of touch, my thoughts and desires now bordering on irrational.
Like being splashed with cold water, I’m thrust back into reality when a fang grazes my jawbone. Muscles seize at the sharpness, a pinch of pain accompanying the softness of the pressure.
“Don’t like that?” Lowell teases, rocking his fangs back and forth.
I stifle a yelp when my skin gives in to the fang, breaking through the delicate barrier. Blood beads from the wound, hot and stinging.
I can’t just sit here and let him kill me.
Shifting my upper body in discomfort, I grip my fork tighter, my knuckles protruding.
As Lowell continues with his fixation on biting at my neck and jaw, the pliable scales of his neck reveal themselves each time he twists his head. The underside shines in the candlelight, open and begging to be speared.
I’m never going to get an opportunity like this again.
When Lowell’s jaw widens to deepen his bite, I take my opening.
I lift the fork up and behind my head, my elbow bent and eyes locked on his neck. With a sudden jerk, I throw my entire upper body weight into my throw, the fork prongs slicing through the air on their way to pierce the soft scales.
I gasp when a hand wraps around my neck, another pinning my wrist back down to the table. The pressure forces me to choke, my feet lifting off the ground.
Lowell laughs heartily, his shoulders shaking jovially. “Do you really think you can hurt me with afork?” He rips the metal from my grasp. “You’re such a killjoy. I was enjoying myself.”
In a swift motion, he drives the fork straight into his upper thigh. He grinds the prongs deep into the scales before pulling it out, the silver devoid of blood.
“You’ll need a lot more than some shitty fork to hurt me,” Lowell snarls, tossing the fork across the room to clatter to the ground. He brings me in closer, opening his maw as wide as it will allow. “I eventold you nicely to beg, and youstillrefused. I made it clear that if you’re even the slightest bit difficult, I’ll eat you. And yet you push me.” His voice is muffled by the way his mouth hangs open, drool dripping to my face.
“Because I never trusted that you’d let me leave alive,” I rasp, swinging my feet beneath me. Lowell’s warmed hands are now searingly hot as his claws pinch my skin.
As I slowly lose air, a bolt of adrenaline bubbles through my blood.
Like an old engine starting back up for the first time in years, my brain recalls decades-old muscle memory I swore I’d forgotten. Using the tip of my foot, I kick into the space above Lowell’s groin that is just below his rib cage. A place that is particularly vulnerable for Lizardfolk.
Lowell sputters out a curse, releasing me as he stumbles backward with wheezing gasps.
Time slows as the heel of my shoe hits the stone floors, actions controlled by instinct rather than critical thinking. I scramble to find anything sharp, settling on a plate I break in half on the table’s edge, holding it by the blunt end.
I don’t give Lowell a moment to breathe. He can end me with one swipe of his claws, and I won’t allow him the opportunity. Running at him with my makeshift knife, I attempt to strike his chest. He dodges easily, recovering quicker than anticipated to maintain a defensive stance.
I swing again in retaliation but am tripped by something that sweeps at my feet: Lowell’s tail. I catch myself before I can stumble to the ground, the tail wrapping around my free wrist with a tug.
Shit.
Gritting my teeth, I drive the sharp end of the plate into his tail, but the porcelain doesn’t pierce the reinforced dark-grey scales. I keep striking until the plate shatters in my hands, slicing my palms open. Abright red streams down my wrist and forearm, shards still embedded at the seam.
Lowell whips me towards him until I collide with his chest, grabbing my arms in his fists. His smile is crazed.
“Wow, how entertaining. Most humans don’t even attempt to resist my strength, you know? They all accept the outcome. It’s less gruesome that way.” He laughs, his eyes wild. The amber color is almost-blinding. “Yet here you are, a fussy little human, trying your best to fight back.”
Lifting my palm to his lips, he laps up the dribbles of blood from my wound. I instinctively yank my hand away, the gentleness of his tongues ticklish, but his tail only tightens.
Lowell hums, bringing his tongues to his lips. “It only makes me want you more.”
