Page 139 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“Perform well, and I may even reconsider your request.”

The challenge sparks something dangerous in me. I offer him a tentative smile, hoping it looks shy and alluring rather than calculated.

“Then let me convince you.”

I lean forward, keeping my eyes locked on his, and drag my lower lip slowly along the front of his trousers, over the hardening length beneath the fabric.

His body twitches, a sharp breath hissing between his teeth.

When I glance up, his head has tipped back against the chair, his eyes on the ceiling, the line of his jaw sharp and tense in the firelight. The sight sends a dark thrill shooting through me.

Yes.

This…

This is power.

I undo his belt. The metal clinks softly in the quiet room as I part the fabric, revealing dark underwear. He is very hard now, straining against the cloth. His shirt has lifted, exposing a muscled lower abdomen and a faint trail of pale hair disappearing beneath the waistband. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him.

I reach inside. My fingertips brush hot, velvety skin. He hisses again, his hips jerking once as his hands grip the armrests.

My fingers curl around his shaft and draw him out. He is thick. Hot. Heavy in my hand. Not off-putting, as I had expected, but startlingly masculine. A thrill runs through me at the weight of him, followed by an unwelcome image of him above me, his strong lean body covering mine.

I wet my lips and bend closer.

Nathaniel suddenly pitches forward and seizes my jaw, forcing my gaze up to his. His grip is firm, but not quite painful.

“If you bite me,” he warns, “I will whip your back until it is raw and bloody. And I promise you, that will only be the beginning. Is that understood?”

I nod quickly.

He does not release my jaw.

His thumb strokes once along my cheek. “And if you so much as think of harming me, I will come after Byron and Mary.”

Panic shoots through my veins.

How the fuck does he know about Byron and Mary? Did he send enforcers to the cottage? Did they capture Byron? Did they interrogate him?

My thoughts spiral as I picture vampires storming the safehouse. Poor Mary—so loving, so stubbornly capable—wouldn’t have a chance with her aching joints. And Byron—he would die before he let them take her. But even he is getting old. The thought of what a made vampire might do to them fills me with fear. For an instant, I smell blood and smoke. Hear screams piercing the night. Feel the heat of a fire I cannot see. I can’t breathe.

“Look at me,” Nathaniel commands.

I force my eyes back to his. The dark intensity there makes my heart knock once, hard enough to hurt.

“Breathe.”

I draw a stream of air into my lungs. “They are safe,” he says. “And so they will remain, wild and free—provided you behave. Rest assured, I have no intention of hurting them. Or even capturing them. Not when I have a pretty alternative right here.” He tips his head slightly. “Now. You may continue.”

He releases my jaw and leans back, his hands curling loosely around the arms of the chair. Completely at ease again. Completely in control.

I remain kneeling on the rug between his thighs, a sick rush of fear crashing through me.

“Worried?” he murmurs.

“No,” I lie, even though he can probably hear my heart slamming against my ribcage.

I have miscalculated. He knows far more than I ever imagined. About Byron. About Mary. About me.