Page 141 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“And where do you think you’re going? Stay.” His expression shifts into lazy appraisal. “You look rather beautiful like this, you know. Perhaps it is the hair. Or the rouge.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “Though I suspect having your lips wrapped around my cock is the true improvement.”

Heat floods my face, humiliation curdling into anger. He is being cruel on purpose.

“Am I too much for you?”

I glare up at him through watering eyes.

“I see we shall have to begin with the fundamentals.” His grip eases slightly. “Open wider. More tongue. Breathe through your nose.”

He corrects me until my clumsy movements settle into something resembling a rhythm. When I gag, he prevents me from retreating far.

“Again.”

I obey. Tears prick my eyes as I force myself to take him deeper.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “You’re learning. Very good.”

The praise lands like a brand, sending heat through my skin and a reluctant pulse low in my body. My jaw aches. Each time I take him deeper, he makes a low, approving sound.

I continue—tongue, suction, breath whenever I can—fixing my thoughts on the knife against my forearm.

Soon.

Without warning, Nathaniel grips my hair tightly enough to make me wince.

“The lesson is over,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly now. “It’s time I show you what your mouth is good for.”

Before I can process the words, he rises, forcing me back onto my heels with his cock still between my lips. One hand remains fisted in my hair. The other braces against the chair.

He starts to move.

Shallow thrusts at first, testing how much I can take. Then longer, deeper strokes that force me to open wider.

Any illusion that I held power over him vanishes.

I obey. Tears prick my eyes, and a thin trail of spittle slips down my chin as I force myself to take him deeper. My fingers dig into his bare thighs merely to keep myself upright.

“Breathe through your nose,” he coaxes. “Eyes on me.”

I force my watering eyes to his.

His expression is pure hunger, lips parted, blond hair fallen into his eyes.

“That’s it. Good pet. Look at me while I use you.”

I flinch at the word pet, yet the humiliation of him using me sends an unwelcome bolt of pleasure through my core. I hate him. Hate myself more for wanting another word of praise.

He pushes into my throat and holds me there until panic has me clawing at his legs. When he finally withdraws, I gasp, saliva stretching between us.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, smoothing a hand over my hair.

The tenderness disorients me more than the cruelty. For one terrible second, I forget to pull away.

The darkened room has taken on a distant, dreamlike quality—the crackling fire, the prince towering above me, our shadows lurking on the walls. It feels as though I am watching another woman being ruined.

“Again,” he says. “All the way.”

He draws me back onto his cock, guiding me until my nose brushes the pale trail of hair on his lower stomach. I cannot breathe properly when he stops and holds me there, groaning as my throat spasms around him.