Page 80 of Bite The Terror That Feeds

He watched me, his glass already empty.

“That woman seemed to care for you…”

He had no reaction, almost as if he didn’t hear me. He was focused on me exclusively. “You’re the only thing I care about right now.”

“So she means nothing to you—”

“They all mean nothing to me. They’re prey—nothing more.” He straightened in his chair and sat forward, arms on the table. “Sounds like you’re jealous.”

“No, I just think you’re an asshole.”

A grin slowly crept across his handsome face. “I am an asshole. But they know their place. It’s not my fault if they get…attached.”

I spun my fork in the last of my pasta, my eyes on the bowl.

“I’m sure you’ve broken some hearts yourself.”

I placed the bite into my mouth and chewed as I stared at him.

That soft grin was still there.

I finished my meal, the dishes completely clean.

We stared at each other for a while. He took control of the room without saying a word. He was a man who was both serious and laid-back at the same time. His stare filled the room with an invisible heat. Now there wasn’t a smile or a tease. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing only—me.

I’d had lovers who wanted me, but none who could hold a stare like that. None who could imply so much with so little. It was almost too much for me, so I left my seat and walked past him.

His fingers reached out from the armrest subtly and brushed against my thigh as I passed, catching the silk of my skirt for a brief second. It was an indifferent touch, but it was enough to make bumps appear on my arms.

I returned to the bedchamber, the four-poster bed perfectly made, like a maid changed the sheets every morning. That bed looked like an oasis after spending the night on the hard stone of that cell clothed in full armor.

I helped myself to the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out a black shirt. When I turned around, he was next to the bed, his trousers and boxers on the floor. He stood buck naked, his big dick there to impress me.

I couldn’t deny that I was impressed.

I walked into the bathroom and changed into the shirt I’d borrowed without permission. When I opened the door again, he was right in the doorframe, one arm propped up against the wood, blocking my way.

I took a quick breath in surprise.

He stared at me with the same eyes he wore in battle. They were intense and powerful, domineering. My eyes were focused on his, so I didn’t see him slowly reach his hand out and grab the front of my shirt. He grasped the material in his big fingers and slowly pulled me closer, into his naked body so he could plant a kiss on my lips.

When he leaned in for the kill, I turned my head, giving him my cheek instead of my mouth.

He hesitated before he kissed my cheek.

I pushed his hand down before I ducked under his arm and entered the bedroom.

“You like to be chased.” He came up behind me, pressing his naked body against mine, his fat dick right against my lower back.

“No.” I pushed his hands off me. “I just want to go to bed.” I moved to the opposite side of the four-poster bed, as if placing the furniture between us would keep him at bay.

He remained where he stood, but his eyes deepened in anger. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“The deal was you and me for a week. You didn’t specify what that meant.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t play coy with me.”

“And in return, I promised not to run or kill. Those were the terms.”

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