Enslaved by the Others Read Online Free Page A

red came to his pupils, his fangs peeking out between his lips as he spoke. “My. You do like walking the hard road, don’t you?”
    Before I could retort, he had me twisted around so my back was cradled against his chest, and he had my wrists pinned at my stomach with one hand. The other was at my throat, his thumb digging under my jaw to force me to tilt my head to the side and expose my jugular. His fangs scraped over my skin, and a scream was dragged out of me as I struggled vainly against his hold.
    “Ah, yes, I remember now. This is what you fear, is it not?”
    My only answer was to increase my helpless squirming, a thin sound of pain and terror dying in my throat.
    “Well then, pet, since you’re not much impressed by pain, perhaps this will deter you.” His cool lips trailed upward, rubbing against my skin like melting ice until they brushed against my earlobe to whisper his threat. “Every time you disobey me, I will bite you. Make no mistake, the last time I did so was in haste. From now on I will make every effort to make it last. Each ... and every . . . time.”
    As those last words trailed off, he struck, his fangs piercing my skin so quickly and cleanly that all I felt was pressure, not pain. Then, whatever the hell it is in vampire saliva that makes it feel good kicked in—and this time I was writhing against his hold for a totally different, far more shameful reason.
    Unlike last time, he didn’t suck greedily at the wounds, drawing my blood as rapidly as possible. Instead, it was something infinitely worse; he used his lips and tongue to do things that had taken previous lovers both hands and a map. Every twitch of his lips sent new pulses of pleasure shooting like lightning down my spine, making me shudder in ecstasy. He took his time about it, too, never sucking hard enough to steal more than a few drops of blood at a pull.
    By the time he withdrew, I was desperately aroused and so caught up in his arms that there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
    Copper-scented breath washed over my cheek as he pressed a kiss there, even that small touch enough to set my now hypersensitive skin aflame. “Remember, pet. This. Every time.”
    Oh, I remembered. Despite the danger, despite a tiny part of me knowing exactly where I was and whom I was with, all I could think about was being pinned under Royce’s weight, the feel of him inside me, the pressure of his mouth on my throat. Max’s bite made it feel like I was there again, in that moment, enthralled by the pain and pleasure that made every cell in my body burn with need. With an intense longing to do anything— anything —to feel it again.
    Max unceremoniously dragged me over to where the statues stood in silent judgment, pressing my wrists to the wall and then shackling them over my head. He followed with my ankles, cuffed roughly two feet apart with only inches of slack. Dismally, the first thought that occurred to me was that he was doing it so that there wasn’t even the slightest chance I might rub my legs together to find some relief.
    I dangled in the chains, gasping for breath, watching him with heavily lidded eyes. I couldn’t move just yet, and the shock and need had not worn away enough for me to think of anything outside the blaze of desire.
    “Now, I will give you one more opportunity to do as I told you. Consider your options.”
    With that, he left me hanging there—in every sense of the word.
    It didn’t take me long to figure out that being stuck in chains sucks.
    The inability to scratch or rub at an itch because your arms are up over your head and you can’t shift your weight is torture. Particularly when you feel like there’s a fire burning between your legs. The knowledge that you can’t do anything about it only heightens the sensation, makes it worse, in my opinion.
    The horrible thing was coming to the conclusion that I very well would have given myself to Max if he’d made any sort of move to get me in bed.