Captive Mate - Eliot Grayson Page 0,13

to side. Yeah, maybe he wasn’t quite as big as his brother, or the hulking beast who was guarding the bedroom door. But he was tall, and broad, and an alpha; he had sixty pounds and five inches on me at the least.

And he was looking at me like I was his next meal. His eyes glowed, and his canines had lengthened.

Ready to pierce my flesh and make me his, whether I wanted it or not.

“Matthew,” I said, trying for calm, even though my body quivered with the force of my rapid heartbeat. “Matthew, don’t. You don’t want to mate with me. I’d be a terrible mate. You hate me. Remember? I don’t cook and I don’t submit and I don’t —”

I broke off, all my other undesirable traits fleeing my mind and the words withering on my dry tongue as he stepped forward, slowly and deliberately. It was so much worse than if he’d rushed me. Another step, and now he was halfway across the bathroom floor. Why couldn’t he get it over with?

Another step, and I wanted to scream. He was only a couple of feet away, close enough that I could almost feel the heat of him.

Think, I had to think, there had to be a way out of this…

And then it came to me, just as he took the final step that would bring him right up against me.

I went limp, my eyelashes fluttering and a small moan escaping my lips. Hitting the floor was going to hurt, but not as much as how badly he’d need to rip up my neck to get his bite to take.

His arms shot out and clutched me against his chest. My adrenaline spiked even higher. He might not believe I was fainting. Not with how my heart was racing. He scooped me up and carried me out of the bathroom, burying his face in my hair and shuddering. I stayed pliant, dangling in his arms like a rag doll. Predators liked to chase their prey. That was my experience, anyway — if a rabbit played dead, I’d poke at it, but I might not be as inclined to eat it.

Matthew carried me through to the bed and laid me down, wrapping himself around me and nuzzling my neck. Each one of his exhales heated my skin and paradoxically made me shiver. His cock jabbed into my side. It felt huge.

Gods, he was heavy. And hot. I was nearly suffocating, with my face pressed into his shoulder. He smelled like a forest in the summer, humid and rich. A strange sensation crept along every one of my nerves, a prickling, sparking awareness. Was this how magic felt to people who didn’t use it? Who couldn’t control it? I hated it, but I also couldn’t quite resist it. It made me want to tip my head and expose my neck even more, offer myself up like a not-so-virgin sacrifice.

Give in.

That snapped me out of my fugue. Giving in wasn’t an option. If Matthew mated me, I’d be as good as his slave. He’d force me to remove the spell, and then I’d have a mate who hated me, and I’d be the Armitages’ tool. Matthew wouldn’t be stupid enough to give me access to my magic until he was sure I was under his control.

I stirred a little, as if I was coming around. Matthew’s arms tightened. Slowly, trying to keep him calm and soothe his instincts, I slid my arms up and wrapped the one that wasn’t trapped under him around his ribs. I clutched a handful of his shirt with the other, and I rubbed my face against his shoulder.

Like a mate. Like a lover. Like someone who wasn’t a threat and was already Matthew’s.

“Arik?” he whispered, and brushed his lips over the skin just below my ear. “Arik, I know you’re awake.”

Apparently we were still going with the serial-killer horror-movie vibe, then.

“Hold me,” I whispered back, praying I wasn’t fucking this up. So far so good — no new holes in my skin. But that switch could flip again at any second. “Keep me safe?”

Matthew’s arms tightened around me. “You’re safe. No one’s going to touch you. I’ll rip their throats out if they try. You’re mine.”

His teeth grazed my jugular. I forced myself not to stiffen in his hold.

No, nothing to get worked up about here. Just lying in my bespelled captor’s arms, completely relaxed — because why wouldn’t I be, right? — with his massive erection