Read Online Bloodlust Denied by Christina Phillips - Free Book Online Page A

unharmed and handsomely rewarded when I allow you to leave.”
    “I’m not a whore you can appease with a few paltry gold coins.” Once again she tugged on her restraints, infuriated by her powerlessness and by the way he had so easily tricked her.
    But how had he tricked her? How had they arrived at this place and why couldn’t she remember?
    The duke laughed as though he found her genuinely amusing. “Not a whore? Then enlighten me. What are you? How many other strangers have you fucked in back alleys since our midnight encounter?”
    “That’s none of your concern.” The satin sheets covering her slid over her skin as she tossed impotently for freedom. She froze as sudden comprehension dawned. “Did you undress me while I was unconscious?”
    Surely not. Surely he was not as depraved as that.
    “I did. It was a most,” he paused for a moment as if considering his words, “enjoyable experience.”
    He had stripped her naked and put her to bed. Mortification snaked through her soul, heating her cheeks and curling her fingers. But far worse was the dark delight that tugged between her thighs at the vision unfurling in her mind. Had he stroked her pussy? Touched her clitoris? Shame at her wanton thoughts washed through her breast, but it was disturbingly faint. Because the vivid images in her mind of the duke stripping her and looking at her naked body were both dreadful and shockingly arousing.
    “How dare you?” She had aimed for outrage but her words sounded feeble. Mortal.
    “Morana.” He came to her side and looked down at her, the expression on his face suggesting he imagined she was an exotic exhibit beneath a glass dome. “This façade of outraged morality is amusing, but hardly convincing. I’m not the first man to have seen you naked.”
    He was wrong. She had never allowed such intimacy, even with the few—so few—lovers she had entertained over the eternity of her existence.
    But he would never believe her. Even if she was inclined to confide in him.
    He offered her a smile so depraved it sucked the air from her lungs and, to her secret fury, caused tremors of lust to ripple through her damp folds. Apparently satisfied by her silence he hooked a finger under the satin sheet and slowly inched it over her sensitized breasts.
    “Coward.” The word rasped, shattering the silence, and his finger paused.
    “I beg your pardon?” The polite phrase, coming from his lips, was stripped bare of civility and thrummed with leashed savagery. Danger and death pounded in the room, with every erratic beat of her heart and yet she couldn’t back down, couldn’t beg his forgiveness. She knew at a fundamental level that made no sense that if she did, this encounter would instantly end.
    Sanity screamed she should do all in her power to ensure that end. Except she didn’t want to lose this knife-edge of vulnerability, this sensation of an outcome unknown. But most of all, she didn’t want to see the outrage or the disbelief in the duke’s mesmeric eyes transform into derision.
    She curled her lips, baring her teeth. “Untie me, and see how far your depraved desires get you when I’m free to defend my honor.”
    Shock glittered in his eyes, obliterating all other emotions. Had he never been spoken to in such a manner before?
    “Your honor?” The way he glanced over her enslaved body sent a shiver of shame burning through her core. “You retain honor enough to defend?” Incredulity smoked through the last words, doubtless intentional, and she tensed against the irrational pain that jarred her heart at the knowledge he thought so little of her.
    It was imperative she didn’t allow him to see the extent he could wound her with a careless remark. How complete would his power be over her at such a devastating discovery.
    “It doesn’t surprise me that a man who possesses no honor himself is unable to recognize that quality in another.” She infused each word with as much derision as possible.
    For one