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“Because …” He licked his bottom lip and his eyes turned away for only a moment. “I need you to understand me.”

“I do—”

Maurice silenced me by placing his finger over my lips.

“My father told me that if I couldn’t become something as a man, then my purpose in life meant nothing. I was only six.” His eyes glistened as if recounting the memory was almost too difficult to bear.

“And the other?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “What else did he teach you?”

A smile pulled at his lips that stretched from ear to ear.

“On his deathbed when I was eighteen, my father had dismissed my mother to the hall so we could speak alone.” Maurice softly ran his finger down to my lips, and his eyes looked to my mouth. My heart hammered, my body aching to be touched by just that one look. “In the darkest nights of war, you must be willing to show no mercy and give out the consequences to those who do you harm.” I swallowed and tried to turn my gaze away from his when his expression grew too intense. He gripped my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “And until this day, Mercy, I’ve never allowed someone to go unpunished.”

Maurice lashed out and gripped my throat. His cold grip on my neck was tight, momentarily restricting my air supply. I made a feeble attempt to wrench free, but my strength could never match the power of a vampire. He pushed me back against the island, his free hand wrapping around my wrists and pinning them above my head.

“Maurice …” I murmured, squirming underneath him, but he left little to no wriggle room.

“Shhh,” he shushed me, easing his grip on my throat. His lips found mine, kissing me gently, as if he attempted to offer some form of comfort with his lips.

I didn’t know what all this meant. My mind screamed at me—warning me I was in danger, yet my body refused to move as that soft, tickling sensation spread through my body, erupting between my legs. His mouth soon abandoned mine, drifting lower to my neck. His fangs protruded, leaving a sharp sting on my tender flesh, but he didn’t bite down. The coolness of his icy breath tickled my neck, making me tremble underneath him.

“You smell so fucking amazing,” he murmured, inhaling the scent of me.

“Are … are you going to bite me?” I asked meekly. I couldn’t recall him ever doing this before. “Is that something we did before or—”

“No,” he said sharply. “I’ll never drink your blood.” His predatorial gaze looked up, locking with mine, as he inched closer. “But I will fuck you.”

Maurice’s hand clutched the delicate fabric of my panties, yanking them down my smooth thighs, so my heated core was revealed to him. His nostrils spread as he drew in a sharp breath, the corners of his lips twitching. He was holding back a smile.

“So wet for me, Mercy, aren’t you?” He could smell it. I wanted to deny it, but what was the point? Any signs of fear that roamed through my body moments ago were gone, now replaced by desire and need.

Maurice’s mind was dangerously somewhere else tonight.

His lips found mine once again, but his kiss was different now. It was hungry and desperate, rough in comparison to how he usually kissed me. A small moan escaped my lips, coming out muffled against his mouth as he devoured me.

That sound seemed to trigger something within him; his free hand fiddled with his pants, pulling his cock out. It was as if he was in a rush to be inside of me, with no time to remove his pants fully.

His shaft slid in between my folds, teasing me up and down for a moment as he panted.

“Maurice …” I murmured against his lips, arching my back underneath his body. I was already throbbing for him. His other hand was still pinning my wrists down against the island, as if he wanted to ensure his claim on me.

“Tell me how much you want me,” he demanded, his tone hoarse as he breathed. His cock lingered at my entrance, positioning itself, but he didn’t enter just yet. “Beg for me to be inside you, Mercy.”

“Maurice.” His name mixed with a soft moan; my head tilting back as my lips parted. “Please, I—”

My words cut off as he rammed himself inside of me in one rough, deep thrust. My entire body tensed, my inner walls convulsing around him as they adjusted to his thick size. It was clear that no begging was needed on my end—he wanted this as much as I did.

Maurice released my wrists from his clutch, settling his hand on my hips instead to guide me into his harsh thrusts. With each movement, he seemed to enter me deeper and deeper, sending waves of pleasure mixed through my body.

The sensation was unlike anything I could remember ever experiencing before.

I clutched his back, clawing my way over his icy, bare skin, as if it were going to help me stay anchored through the rush that roamed within me. The sound of my small, panting moans mixed with his heavy breathing, echoing through the room.

“Oh, God,” I cried out. His length moved inside of me at a curved angle, hitting that spot inside of me that made the world momentarily sway. My eyes began to close over, and my head tipped back, but Maurice’s hand reached for my throat, gripping it.

“Look at me when I fuck you, Mercy,” he demanded, momentarily tightening his grip around my throat, wanting to remind me I breathed the air that he allowed. “Eyes on me.”

For whatever reason, I obeyed, my gaze locking on his. His eyebrows were furrowed in bliss, and his lips parted as he fucked me. Hard and relentless, owning every part of my being.

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