Page 26 of Blood of the Saints

Fuck.

I haven’t gotten an ounce of sleep. Instead, I’ve been thinking aboutherall night.

The way her hair pooled over her gorgeous chest as she was strapped there, exposed to us. The dip of her stomach showing off her toned body. Her chest rose up and down calmly, trying to not give away her fear. The closer I got, the more she shivered from my presence. Her pretty blue eyes watched my every move with a burning rage. I couldn’t help but notice the way she squeezed and rubbed her thighs together every time the whip cracked against her beautiful pale skin, reveling in the pain I caused her.

Her pulse pounding erratically in her neck.

Her teeth grinding when she tried to keep from making a snarky comment.

I noticed it all.

Every little thing about her, I noticed.

She had the most defiant look in her eyes as she challenged us to do our worst. She’s going to be a hard one to crack, but the thought of breaking her sends a delicious tingle down my spine. She’s so fucking strong and stubborn, so seeing her walls crumble will be a sweet, sweet victory.

The more she fights, the harder I get.

Swiping my pocket knife off the stand, I flip it open, dragging my fingertip across the point—hard enough to feel the sharp edges, but not enough to cut me.

Mmm. I bet her blood would taste so sweet on my blade. It would be euphoric, I just know it.

It took everything in me to stop myself from licking the blood dripping down her stomach after I nicked her. I shouldn’t have cut her before we played our little mind games, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see the pretty little thing bleed under my touch.

Blood play usually comes last if they don’t talk, but I needed to see the warm dark liquid trickle down her soft, pale skin.

I’m fucking drooling at the thought of her blood on my tongue, wondering just how much sweeter her defiance will make her taste.

Ace would be pissed if he knew the thoughts I was having about the girl tied up downstairs. He doesn’t want me to get too wrapped up in her, but she’s already becoming addicting.

The idea of what’s going to happen to her when we’re done playing our games after getting what we need, fills me with unease. I know Ace is itching to get rid of her, but I want to keep her forever. She might hate me for it, but the fire in her eyes is enough to make me want to do it—to keep her strapped to that table so she can never leave. She’s like a toxic obsession that I don’t want to get rid of, but in time, it will have to happen.

She’s a liability.

A risk.

Someone that could ruin us. She’s not the type to allow herself to be kept, even if we gave the choice to stay or leave.

She would leave us.

I can tell she’s used to being independent.

Alone.

Detached.

Bringing the knife to my lips, I slowly open my mouth enough to peek my tongue out. Swiftly, I press the blade against the edge of it enough to break it open, letting the blood coat my bottom lip. Lapping it up, my entire body relaxes at the coppery taste, releasing the tension I was holding.

The sweet ecstasy of blood is my release.

My safety net.

It makes the pain go away even if it’s just for a passing moment.

Sitting upright, I roll my shoulders and crack my neck. Tousling my hair back out of my eyes, I stand and stretch before pulling on a pair of black sweatpants and a Deadmau5 shirt. I fold my blade, stuffing it in my pocket, always making sure it’s close by.

I better go check on our girl down there and make sure she’s not up to any trouble.

A small laugh escapes my lips, knowing there’s no way she’s getting out of those binds. Theon secured them so tight, checking them three times before he was satisfied that she wouldn’t be able to loosen them.

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