Alpha Omega 02 - Hunting Ground
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He lay flat on his back, lifting his chin in a submissive pose heâd only ever offered to his father before. âHere I am,â he said. âStuck tight.â He flopped his hands as if his wrists were tied to the mattress. Wiggled his feet. âWhat are you going to do with me?â
SHE stared at him. Submissive? Charles? But that bared throat was still there. No threat. He couldnât have made her believe with words that he wouldnât hurt her, because she already believed the words. But his body was telling her the same thingâand that she trusted right down to her bones.
Because she trusted, she was able to move closer, until her knees bumped into his body. She put her nose against his throat and he moved to make more room, even when she opened her mouth and let her teeth rest against his skin.
Under her tongue, his pulse began to speed up. Not fearâshe smelled his arousal, and the sheer, unadulterated call of that scent loosened something inside her, making her moan in pleasure. She licked the side of his neck, appreciating the taste of salt and man, appreciating the freedom heâd given her to touch and taste at her leisure.
She took her time, her touches tentative at first. It felt . . . like she was violating his privacy. Intruding.
She remembered something abruptly. âSomeone told me you donât like to be touched,â she told him. She couldnât remember who it had been. Asil, maybe.
His chest lifted off the bed, following her fingers when she started to lift them. Uncertain, she left her hands where they were, so he had to make an effort to keep them on him.
âNot usually,â he admitted, sounding a little breathless. âBut I love your touch. Touch me anytime. Any place. Anywhere.â It was heartfelt and honest: and she had a sudden vision of him talking to his father and her with her hands on inappropriate places.
She was going to share the picture with him, but then she got a good look at his face and realized he meant what heâd saidâand the impulse to laugh left as quickly as it had come. Deliberately, he pushed up higher, pressing her hands into him, using the muscles of his back because he kept his hands and feet where they had been.
âPet me,â he told her. âI like it.â
Her heart beat so hard she could hear itâfear, a little, yes. But also there was something momentous and empowering in having Charles at her mercy. He was as good as his word: no matter what she did, his hands and his feet stayed where they were.
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SOMETHING vibrated under her head.
It was such an odd sensation thatâstill only half-consciousâAnna tried to figure out what it was. Her ears told her there was a car motor somewhere very nearby, and she tried to figure out how sheâd made it from the bed to a car without noticing.
And then she smelled the vampires.
âSheâs awake, Ivan,â said a womanâs voice.
Anna opened her eyes and saw the vampire whoâd attacked Moira. The woman smiled at her.
âNow me,â she said, âI didnât like Krissy. She was a pushy little bimbo. But Ivan had a thing for herâand he doesnât like you at all. So you just be a good puppy, and weâll not have any trouble, right?â
Anna didnât bother answering. She was naked, chained hand and foot and stuck in what could only be the back section of the blue minivan the vampires had been running around in. Theyâd removed the backseats and installed huge eyebolts to which theyâd chained Anna. They were going to be paying the rental company through the nose when they returned the van. She was pretty sure that even rental insurance wouldnât cover things like drilling eyebolts through the floor.
The woman vampire was leaning against one of the big sliding doors. Her feet were pressed against Annaâs side. Next to her was a man who looked about forty-five, but he was a vampire. Heâd probably been forty-five for years.
Questions bubbled to the tip of her tongue. What do you want with me? How did you get me out of the hotel? What did you do with Charles?
Charles wouldnât have just let them take her. She closed her eyes and felt for her end of their bondâand it was just as it usually was when Brother Wolf wasnât holding it open. Whatever had happened, Charles was all right.
The last thing she
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