Page 202 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

The Poplarins retreat towards the door.

“Where are you going?” I shout, fighting against Nathaniel’s hold. “You wanted me in your pack. Do something!”

“Good thing we didn’t initiate her,” says one as he follows.

“Not worth the trouble,” the other agrees.

Then they’re gone.

“Cowards,” I whisper.

Nathaniel’s breath burns against my neck. “Yes.”

“Let me go.”

Nathaniel’s grip shifts, but he doesn’t release me. One hand clamps the back of my neck, the other drives between my shoulder blades. He forces me down hard.

My knees hit the grimy floorboards. Then my hands. He keeps pushing until my cheek scrapes the floor and my ass is forced high. Metal clinks as he unbuckles his belt. The sound is quiet, yet it seems to strike inside my skull as I realise what it means. What he intends to do. Then I feel the blunt, hot press of his cock against my entrance.

No.

No, no, no—

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I twist my head. Chelsea stands frozen in the doorway, the last one left, her expression full of regret and pity.

“Chelsea, please.” Angry tears blur my vision. “Do not leave me with him!”

Nathaniel bares his fangs and lets out a low, vampiric hiss that vibrates straight through my chest, and Chelsea flees.

“No…” I breathe, watching in horror as the door creaks shut, leaving me trapped with a monster.

I wait for the shove, the thrust, the violation I am certain is coming.

Nathaniel stays behind me, still and heavy. The coarse wool of his coat brushes the backs of my bare thighs, trapping his warmth against my skin, a pleasant contrast to his scent. I’m startled by the intimacy of it—his body enclosing mine, his heat soaking into me—while the thick head of his cock rests exactly where I am most sensitive, barely moving. Only a subtle, teasing grind. Almost lazy.

“They’re gone,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear, sending a tingling shiver down my neck. “Shall I stop?”

My breath stutters. “Wh-what?”

“I asked…” The thick head slips between my folds. My entire body locks. “Shall I stop?”

Words fail me.

He drags himself through my heat without entering, slow and obscene, the restraint in it more frightening than violence. “Hmm?”

“I…” I lose the rest as his hand strokes my hair once, almost absently, then settles at my nape again. He folds over me, gently drawing my head back until he can nuzzle the side of my neck. He breathes me in before releasing a low, animal exhale against my skin.

I inhale his scent greedily—cold and frost and power, his authority settling over me like a second skin. All the while, the blunt head of his cock rests against my entrance, pressing just enough to keep me poised on the verge of penetration.

I tremble under the strain of waiting.

“I am only wetting my cock,” he says quietly, but the lilting words fill the emptied attic. “Unless you want more.”

“M-more?” My voice is thin.

“If you wish to leave, tell me now, and I will let you walk out—unclaimed.” His mouth brushes my ear. “But if you stay, Kira, I will make you mine.”

I gnaw the inside of my cheek. All the tension inside me has nowhere to go.