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As much as I detest the attitude, and although it’s not for the reasons she thinks, she’s not completely wrong here...

A contract arrangement with her would get Alistair out of my business. Since I don’t have feelings for her, he can’t use her as a pawn against me.

It would force me to leave Violet alone, let her go to have the life that she deserves.

Although the idea of her with anyone else leaves me bloodthirsty… Still, I was never supposed to involve myself with her. Being with Violet and loving her as I do puts a target on her back.

I don’t know if this is the alcohol, if I’m going crazy, or if I’m finally seeing reason.

“Alright.” I blow smoke in her face again, and her nose scrunches. “I’ll bite.” When the smoke dissipates, her sugar-coated smile returns, and she bounces up on her toes.

“You won’t regret it,” she says as she places her hands on my chest. I grab her wrists and shove them over her head, digging them against the rough brick. “Hey!” She cries out, whimpering as she tries to wiggle her wrists out of my grip.

“I told you to stop touching me,” I growl, inches from her face. Her brow wrinkles, her eyes widen, and her chest rises and falls faster as she tries to regulate herself.

“Isn’t that the point of this? You said you’ll bite.”

“Let's get a few things straight, Honey. If, and I mean if, we do this, we need to lay a few ground rules.” I take a drag of my lavender, blowing it in her face again just so that I can watch her nose scrunch. “One, don’t touch me. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you yet. Two, if anything happens, my shirt stays on. Don’t touch it, don’t touch under it. Leave my chest the fuck alone. And three, when I said, ‘I’ll bite,’ I wasn’t just talking about your little proposal.” I lean in closer, put my cigarette out on the brick next to her face, then bite down on her earlobe, and she shrieks. “I don’t think you have any idea what you’re getting into.” Heat rises in my chest, over my neck, my face. I bite down on her lobe again, this time gnawing away at her flesh until she cries out.

When I bite Violet, her taste and little whimpers hit me and fill me, driving me to kiss her again, and again to take the pain away. My cock twitches, coming to life because with her, pain and pleasure come hand in hand. I mark her flesh until she’s a visual representation of the inspiration and visions she sparks inside of me.

When I kiss Violet, I see fireworks.

But right now, going in for a second bite, it’s not inspiration drawing me in for more. I don’t want to kiss her to make the pain go away. I don’t want to kiss her at all.

It’s rage.

Crimson rises in my core and fills my vision.

The thirst for blood creeps from the dark place inside me.

If I’m going to do this, I’m just going to have to get this over with.

“We getting a hotel?” I say as I drop her hands and take a step back. She purses her lips, her eyes giving me a once-over. Like she’s questioning if she’s safe with me.

She’s not.

But I guess ambition wins out over self-preservation for her, because her smile returns. She steps forward, starting and then stopping herself from grabbing my arm.

“We can go to my place. I have a private apartment at the far side of the estate.”

It’s a ten-minute walk, and I have to swat her hand away twice. The gate creaks as we pass the threshold to Blackmoor estate and walk through a meticulously kept, dry, and clipped flower garden. Come springtime, this would be a page straight out of The Secret Garden.

“Right this way, Sir,” Morgan says, her voice dropped like she’s trying to be seductive. She’s a bit of a whore, no doubt. Started sleeping around back when we were in school together. I don’t particularly like that. I never saw the point in having sex with anyone and everyone. That’s why I’ve never had sex. It should be more passionate, more meaningful than that. If it doesn’t make me feel tortured not to have sex, then I’m not interested.

Although if I hadn’t been fighting with myself so hard to stay away from Violet, I’d have taken her by now. When it comes to her, I am interested.

But that’s not what this is about. This isn’t about passion, delicious torture, or feelings at all. It’s about leaving Violet the fuck alone and getting Alistair off my fucking back.

We step through a carved dark-oak door into her living space. The stone walls are framed by heavy wooden beams that rise and cross the ceiling, and a fire crackles low in the corner. It’s one large, circular room with comfortable furniture and an air of rustic grandeur.

I turn to see Morgan standing at the end of her large, round bed. And I find that the architecture of this place and the artistry of the garden turn me on more than she does.

Just get this over with.

Reaching Morgan in a few strides, I grab her by the neck and bite her lower lip. Again, and again. Bite after bite. Her whimpers turn to cries, and she pushes her lips out to catch mine. And that crimson rises in my core, taking over my vision again. She’s trying to slow my pace.

Trying to get me to kiss her.