His Captive Mortal A Vampire Romance - Renee Rose Page 0,60

I know he cares. He just refused to give me up under torture. He must feel something for me because he isn’t the gallant type.

I try to explain my thoughts. “I don’t know how karma works, but I think we met again, so I could fix this, to heal the rift between us.”

He swallows and nods once.

“It’s not going to happen again... is that what you think? I would never hurt you.”

A muscle in his jaw twitches like he doesn’t believe me.

“Please, Charlie, I need you. I never wanted to be magic. You came along and showed me my power and turned my world upside down. I can’t do this without you.” My eyes fill with tears. “I want to be your little fairy again. Please?”

Nothing in his expression changes. “Come here,” he beckons.

I walk to him. He wraps my hair in his fist and pulls my head back, his fangs lengthening as he looks at my vein. As if in slow motion, he lowers his head to my neck, trailing a sharp fang along my vein. My breath comes in quick pants, my heart racing.

Fork, how well do I really know Charlie? Would he drain me to get even with Anka? Maybe he didn’t turn me over to the other vampires because he wanted to destroy me himself.

He lifts my head and releases me all in one swift motion. “Take off your clothes.”

My gaze snaps to his, heart leaping. Has he forgiven me? Or is this an evil torture? It doesn’t matter. I just begged to be his. I wanted to prove my faithfulness, my trust. To be his submissive. I shuck my clothes, dropping the articles at my feet one by one.

He watches with glittering eyes.

“Kneel.”

My belly somersaults. A game. This is our game. I drop to my knees.

“Hands behind your back.”

I grasp my wrists behind my back and lower my head submissively.

Charlie crouches beside me, stroking my hair back from my eyes. I see emotion this time, but before I identify it, he lunges, tackling me onto my back, his hand cupping the back of my head to protect it from the floor. His fangs strike my neck, and he drinks, pushing the bulge of his clothed cock between my legs.

Relief, love, passion, pour through me. I exhale and wrap my legs around his waist. I twine my arms around his neck and close my eyes, allowing the motion of his cock beneath his jeans to drive my passion.

The scrape of his jeans over my vulnerable bits comes as a pleasured pain—the more it digs into me, the more I want to feel it. I follow the sensations until I come from the friction against my clit, a small release, but satisfying just the same.

Charlie licks my wounds closed. “Did I say you could come?”

My belly flutters. Our game. “No, master.”

“You’ll be punished for that.”

I shiver, excitement and heat flushing through me.

He rolls me to my belly. “Bring your knees up under yourself.”

I rise to my hands and knees.

“Did I say you could use your hands?”

His imperious tone makes butterflies flutter in my stomach. I lower my head and torso back to the carpet, dropping my arms beside myself.

“Reach back and hold your cheeks open.”

I suck in my breath, realizing his intention. I reach back, taking one buttcheek in each hand and pulling them apart to expose my most private of places to him.

I hear a zipper and wait, the butterflies flapping their wings.

He rubs the head of cock over my pussy, and I relax, relieved. But as soon as he dips inside my slick channel, he withdraws and pushes against my back entrance, using my juices as the only lubricant.

My anus contracts. “You’re too big,” I pant. “It won’t fit.”

“Relax, little fairy.” He wraps an arm under my waist and moves my hips forward and slaps my ass. I let go of my cheeks and squeak, trying to catch myself with my arms. There’s no need. Charlie holds me easily suspended as he gives me another spank then another. My pussy drips from his dominance. I hold still, relishing his mock punishment, knowing we both need this.

He dips his fingers into my dripping pussy and wipes them on my anus, working a digit into my hole before I realize what he means to do.

I gasp, the sensation more pleasing than I think it should be.

He lowers my torso. “On your forearms, love.”

I assume the position and wait, a rivulet of sweat trickling down my breast.

He removes