Her Vampire Addiction - Tabitha Black Page 0,2

it’s strangely impossible. Almost as if he’s hypnotized me.

“What if I told you there was a place beneath our very feet where I could take you into a dark corner and hurt you in all the ways you crave… and some you don’t even know you want—yet?”

“I’d say you’re lying,” I whisper, my heart pounding, my fingers rigid around the bulb of my wine glass.

His cruel mouth turns up in a mocking sneer. “Then drink up, and I’ll prove I’m telling the truth.”

A little voice in my head is screaming at me that this is not a good idea, that there’s something inherently untrustworthy about him. But I’m also curious. And I can’t deny the effect his words are having on me.

My eyes are burning but I’m unable to blink as I raise my glass to my lips once more and drink deeply, draining the wine in a few measured swallows.

“Sabina.” The way he says my name… it feels almost like a caress. My mind is foggy as he sets our glasses down on the bar behind him and lays a bill beside them before turning back to me. His suit looks expensive. The effects of downing almost an entire glass of wine in one go kick in, a rush of giddy warmth spreading throughout my body and making me unsteady on my feet.

Ethan grips my upper arm once more and guides me back toward the coat check area. To my astonishment, we actually go into the booth and then through a hidden door. It really is a secret entrance, I find myself thinking.

As we descend what seems to be an interminably long staircase, he’s crooning in my ear, “I’m going to make you feel so good. Things you didn’t even know you were capable of. Just trust me.”

Trust him? After ten minutes and one drink? He’s obviously delusional, but I still murmur something agreeable because for one thing, my heart is pounding with excitement and for another, I’m now very curious to see where these steps lead.

We’ve finished our descent and I stop dead in my tracks, overwhelmed by the sight that greets me. “There really is a kink club down here,” I breathe, almost to myself.

The place is bathed in a red glow and there’s music here, too, but it’s more sensual than upstairs. Directly opposite us is a bar, to our right is a huge dancefloor. A raised dais with what looks like two huge thrones on it has just caught my eye when, from behind me, Ethan cups my breast, digging his fingers in cruelly. I gasp and my head falls back against his shoulder.

“Let’s go somewhere a little more private, hon,” he rasps, and begins steering me expertly through the people on the dancefloor. I glimpse flashes of erotic activity—a naked brunette on her knees is sucking someone’s cock; a slender young woman is bent over, wrapped around a sturdy man’s hip, holding on to his ankles as he spanks her soundly—and then we’re in some kind of booth.

“Disrobe.” Ethan’s voice is icy.

This is suddenly happening way too fast. I glare at him and once again, my limbs feel warm and heavy, my mind foggy. “Wait,” I whisper.

“I’ll count to three.”

This is all wrong. I haven’t actually agreed to scene with him. We haven’t discussed limits, a safeword, preferences, nothing. I glance beyond his shoulder towards the rest of the club. There’s a thick curtain but no door. Thank god.

“Eyes on me,” he says. “One.”

“Look, Ethan,” I begin, deliberately using his name rather than Sir or any other term of respect. “This is happening too fast for me. Can we please go and have another drink, discuss things—”

“Two.” He takes a step towards me. My palms are suddenly clammy again and I wipe them on my dress. “Trust me, you do not want to make me say three.”

“Why?” I raise my chin defiantly. “Will you hurt me?”

His eyes are so strange. They looked grey earlier but now it’s almost like there are violet rings in the irises. His slender face is taut with anger. “Three.”

As Ethan lunges towards me, I sidestep him and make a break for the curtain, shoving the thick, velvety material aside, knowing now exactly how a fly must feel in a spider’s web as I get tangled in it and struggle to free myself. “Help!” I scream, knowing nobody could possibly hear me above all the sounds of the club—the music, the conversation, the cries of pleasure and pain. “Help!”

There’s a