“Oh no you don’t.” He pushed me back.
Though my knees were weak, my legs insisted on taking me where the action was.
He shut the door and blocked it. I could see why Simone would have been attracted to Flynn. He was a bit of a swashbuckler with his messy hair—the kind of kinky hair that a woman could tunnel her fingers through while riding him hard. He smelled like cheap cologne and beer, and I wondered what it might be like to kiss those tempting lips. Would he let me drink his blood? Would he let me take it from anywhere?
Flynn gripped my arm and led me to the center of the room. “I’ve never seen a woman fight like that before. Did you have professional training?” He lifted my arm and cuffed my wrist. “You’re not supposed to drink on the clock. Don’t you want this job?” He cuffed my other wrist and gazed down into my eyes. “You’re trouble.” His fingers traced down the length of my raised arms, caressing my middle before resting on my hips.
When the door swung open, Flynn jumped back a foot.
“Simone said you were in here.” A flustered young man with a crew cut tilted his head to get a look at me. So did a few passing by the door. “We’re having trouble with one of those dickheads. He’s trying to get back inside, and it’s drawing a crowd of humans.”
Flynn walked backward with a devilish grin and inclined his head. “On my way.”
When they closed the door and left me alone, I realized Flynn had shackled me to a chain hanging from the ceiling. That also meant I couldn’t lie down or touch myself.
I threw my head back, the heat between my legs unbearable. Seconds turned into minutes. First fifteen, then thirty. I didn’t have a coherent thought in my head. Lust had overcome me—never had I experienced anything so powerful as to take away all my rational decision-making skills. Instead of finding a way out of the shackles, I crossed my legs at the ankles and squeezed my thigh muscles in a sad attempt to satiate my cravings. The red lighting was entrancing, and I wondered what was going on in the rooms upstairs.
The door opened.
Then closed.
A man approached, and I didn’t know him. The only thing I recognized was the lust in his eyes.
Chapter 12
Sensory magic had reduced me to nothing but carnal desire. The chains that bound my wrists were strangely familiar, but no memories were attached to these sensations. Anytime I tried to remember anything about my life, the fever would grip me like the devil’s hand. I was no longer a vessel of memories, opinions, and thought.
The man who entered the room wasn’t dressed like staff. His bushy black beard was a stark contrast against his shiny bald head. When he reached me, his massive biceps and shoulders eclipsed everything else. A musky scent filled my nose when he stripped off his tank top, and he cupped my breast with his large, beefy hand. Cool air hardened my nipples when he pulled my black bra down, releasing my breasts.
“You’ve been a bad girl, and I’m gonna punish you.” He reached around and smacked my ass. “You like that?”
I did and I didn’t. Through the haze of desire, a voice in my head was screamingno. Something about feeling pain while shackled. Something about seeing desire in a man’s eyes while I was helpless. Yet I couldn’t stop the renegade pleasure that had me writhing in anticipation as he circled behind me.
“Take it harder,” he said, slapping my ass again.
I cried out, because this time it hurt.
He appeared in front of me and pinched my nipple. Tears hovered at the corners of my eyes. Was it pain or pleasure? The two sensations had merged, and I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
He unzipped the sides of my leather shorts, exposing more skin. “You’re a little slut, aren’t you? Daddy’s gonna keep spanking you until you promise to be a good girl.” His jaw slid forward and his eyes narrowed. “Then I’m going to make you get down on your knees and suck on my dick. After that, I’m going to spank you so hard that you’re gonna scream for mercy.”
A shadow moved behind him so fast that it was dreamlike. Christian gripped the man by the neck and hauled him away from me.
Christian’s fangs punched out. “You first, you insipid shitebag.” His black eyes were wrought with fury and violence.
A cold chill ran down my spine.
Instead of biting him, Christian slammed him against the wall. The man bellowed in pain when a bone snapped. Christian stalked toward him, lifted him by the throat, and flung him across the room. The man crashed into the Saint Andrew’s cross, breaking it to pieces. While I’d been in a stupor for almost an hour, seeing Christian jogged my memory.
Only the sex bits. I remembered how good his hands felt against my skin and his tongue in my mouth. The taste of his blood and the way he knew my body like no one else. When I looked at him, the only word that filled my mind wasyes. I gripped the chain above me and watched with delight as he beat the stranger senseless. Blood spattered the walls but barely showed up against the red lighting.
After wiping his bloody knuckles on the man’s jeans, Christian finally rose to his feet and approached me with a menacing stride. He reached above my head and broke the chain in two. My muscles ached as I lowered them. Christian snapped off the shackles as if he were breaking open fortune cookies.
When I thought he might barrage me with questions, he took me into his arms and carried me out. He moved down the dark hall with his head down. The back door opened, and I took a breath of fresh air.
Christian set my feet on the ground and adjusted my bra so that it covered my nipples. Then he wrapped his trench coat around me and forced me into the back seat of a car. The door shut, he tapped on the hood, and off I went.
Alone.
