Page 67 of Plug and Claim

And it was unforgivable. However begrudgingly, unintentionally, and briefly it might have been, the fact remained that she had lost control. And that was the ultimate submission. Not kneeling on the floor. Not undoing his trousers. Not even swallowing his seed…

But this: her cum on his hand. It was proof he’d won.

And the vampire knew it.

Kira’s heart hammered in her chest as she met Nathaniel’s gaze. He sank back to kneel before her, as if she were a queen, but he looked no less powerful than he had standing.

Was it possible to be powerful and submissive at the same time?

Doubt it.

And yet that was how she perceived him as he studied her from his lower vantage point. His expression was calculating and mysterious, his smile almost affectionate, and that just made it all the worse when he slid his fingers out of her pussy and smeared her own fluids across her face.

“Bastard,” she hissed, slapping him so hard the sound rang in the room.

Nathaniel’s smile didn’t waver. “You are exceptional,” he purred. His gaze lingered for another moment before he abruptly rose and moved to the window.

Kira stared after him in disbelief, his sudden absence chilling her like a draft. Over by the window, Nathaniel had his back to her. He was motionless as he stared outside.

Her gaze darted to the knife.

This was it.

One final chance at redemption. But as she crawled towards it, her fingers closing over the hilt, she sensed a trap.

Knife in hand, she rose to her feet…and faltered.

For some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t bring herself to advance, to close the distance between them and plunge the knife into the vampire’s back.

Her humiliation deepened as she realised the truth—that she didn’t have the heart to kill him. Worse still, it seemed Nathaniel knew that too, or why else would he have turned his back to her, and left the weapon on the ground between them?

There was no way he’d forgotten about it—he’d made a point of stepping over it when he’d walked away.

Well, that’s just bloody fantastic.

The fact that Nathaniel didn’t consider her a threat struck her like a blow, ringing louder than when she’d slapped him. Her arm fell by her side, useless, the knife hanging limply in her hand.

Without turning, Nathaniel spoke calmly. “You can show yourself out, pet. I’ll summon you if I need you.”

You can shove your summons where the sun doesn’t shine, Kira thought, but she didn’t have the will to say it out loud.

Instead, she lurched towards the door. Her face felt sticky, her insides were aching where Nathaniel’s fingers had plunged into her, and the room felt small and suffocating. She needed a chance to compose herself, or to curl up in a ball and hide from the world—whichever came first.

But she hesitated so she could ask the question weighing on her chest, the one that sent fear curling inside her. “Why did you claim me?”

That made him turn, his gaze locking with hers. “Perhaps, I like the thrill of the hunt.”

“Except you didn’t hunt me.”

You just showed up and fucked everything up.

“You called me the hunter,” he reminded her. “I hunt.”

A chill ran down Kira’s spine, and she tried very hard not to look at the deceased royal family mounted to the wall. But they were there, in her peripheral vision. “But…I’m not a nine tails.”

“I know.”

“So, why?”