Page 14 of Come for Me
It gets them every time. I never say I’ll please them, but their fear pleases me.
“Yes, whatever you want!”
Oh, this part’s good, too. Because, by this point, they’re clawing at me, begging for their pleasure god, and I’ve barely touched them. From the moment they tempt me, their soul no longer belongs to a god but the devil himself.
When the test of their willingness begins, I drink in their fear and regret like a lifeline. I enjoy seeing how far they go to make excuses as to why there are tears running down their face. I ask them sweetly if they want me to stop, patronizing them, followed by taunts about how my future queen should handle adventure. Petting their messed-up hair, I tell them it’s okay, that we can stop after all, that not everyone is fit for a king.
As horrid as my behavior sounds, I can’t allow myself to feel bad. They don’t want me. Look at how far they’re willing to go to make me think otherwise. And for what? They’re power hungry. Greedy. And worst of all,selfish.
My patronization instills a second wind, and they pick up their pieces and hand me the same metaphorical hammer, begging me to break them.
The poor women have no idea what they promise, as my teeth grazing their neck prevents them from making sound decisions, thrusting them right into my dangerous grasp.
They shouldn’t feel bad, though. I have a knack for playing against weaknesses. The moment they pursue me with their intention for power and materialistic things is their end. And all it takes is a smile against their neck to capture them. My teeth scrape their skin, and their knees falter. The promise of my mark and wealth is all too enticing for a greedy bitch. While I won’t give it to them, I know they can’t handle it or me all the same.
Not like my mate is destined to.
Nonetheless, I persist in playing with my scared little prey. I can’t resist. I love it when they scream.
The ones who don’t seem fearful and rather appear to welcome my sadistic nature quickly bore me. I’m not interested in pleasing anyone other than my mate. I’m only after their pain, their slow break, and, inevitably, their destruction. Their sunken expressions as they realize they’ve reduced themselves to this power-hungry whore, willing to do anything for something I didn’t promise to them, for a man they can never have.
With pleasure reserved for my mate, I let my men have a turn, tossing her to the wolves. Their disappointment in my absence and disinterest is fleeting, though, as their vaginas, just as greedy as them, get railed and filled by my men. They all seem to make the same inference, too, that I’m into watchingothers satisfying my mate. So, once again, they consensually participate.
As if I would ever share my actual mate.
By the time my men are done with them, the Hunt is over, and their Goddess-chosen mate has likely picked someone else, one who didn’t give into greed and has pure intentions. They’re better off without someone who doesn’t value the mate bond.
But I don’t feel bad for them. This was their choice, and they were rejected. They could have been happy to be picked in the Hunt or, even better, could have discovered the one destined for them. Instead, they gave into greed. They chose me. I just don’t choose them. The she-wolves who throw themselves at me are so ungrateful for this chance to find the one.
As we near the castle grounds, my plans to take advantage of a willing subject are sabotaged by the sweetest smell of black raspberry and vanilla. Her scent infiltrates my plan and overcomes my darkest intentions. This dark lord’s storm is calmed by her aroma as I inhale further. As I drink in this newfound heaven, my cock hardens. Her natural fragrance alone, whoever she is, has caught this demon’s attention, and I won’t be satisfied until I’ve possessed her very soul.
Tension and the weight of my duty to the throne rolls off me like sand recedes with the waves—for the first time in eight years. All because ofher.
“Mate,”I mindlink to my beta.
Like a meerkat, Sam’s head pops up, wide-eyed and alert.“What?”
He never thought he’d ever hear the word. None of us did.
Animalistic instinct takes its form, pinpointing her scent and darting off after her. My wolf snatches control as we search for our queen, the woman to bring this man to his knees.
She doesn’t yet know what power she has over me, but she’ll find out soon enough.
Hope radiates through me, leveling me up to new speeds. The brawn her presence inspires within me threatens to destroy the mountains until I have her at my side, her sweet aroma throwing my world off kilter. These vampires and rogues would be a flicker of annoyance upon our mating.
My world is already better with her existence.
No other pairing—vampire or otherwise—is more sacred or formidable than the power of a fated bond. Especially one of royal pairing.
Eagerness quickly overturns my pride. Warmth spreads through me, and I chuckle when I register these emotions aren’t mine but hers, as she’s able to sense me.
If I were in my wolf, it’d be faster, but I don’t want to scare her away with my nakedness upon first meeting her.
That will come later.
“I’m coming, baby. Hold on.”
Thrilled she’s just as ready to meet me as I am her, I snicker at my mate’s impatience.
