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

eternal moment, time hung suspended in the emerald depths of the duke’s eyes. Her breath trembled in her throat. Had she pushed him too far? Did she care if she had? Nothing mattered in this heated exchange except that she held onto it with all that she was. Held on and demanded that whatever this night might bring would be on their terms and not purely his.
    His finger dragged the sheet over her breasts and she gasped, not quite believing that, despite her words, he planned to continue with his original plan of humiliation.
    “Alas, you are right.” The mocking words held no apology. “I have no honor. I take whatever I want without compunction or compassion and I want you, Morana. There’s nothing you can say or do to avert your fate in this matter.”

Chapter Seven
     
    Alexius slid the satin over her breasts but couldn’t tear his fascinated gaze from Morana’s outraged face. Since she had awoken, he’d inhaled the fear, the shock and the disbelief emanating from her, and that was as he had expected.
    He wanted her to fear him. She needed to fear him and by the devil, if she had any sense at all, she’d forgo her inflated pride and beg for mercy.
    But now, as he prepared to lay her bare for his inspection, to punish her for his personal humiliation three years ago, her scent of primal terror splintered. Instead, anticipation drenched the candlelit chamber. Anticipation and anger threaded throughout the heady, intoxicating aroma of her arousal.
    “If you don’t untie me,” her voice was breathless, uneven, and stoked the glowing embers of his lust, “I shall lie here as if I’m dead.”
    He laughed, a shocking sound that echoed around the chamber, around his skull, and he clamped his lips together before another such involuntary weakness escaped. But amusement hummed through his brain at her choice of words, at the haughty look on her face, and the defiance shining in her beautiful dark eyes.
    “I think not.” He traced the tip of his finger around her erect nipple, just to prove his words true.
    He felt her tense beneath his touch, saw her jaw lock. Deliberately he tweaked her rosy peak between thumb and finger to elicit a reaction.
    Her breath exploded between gritted teeth. “Do your depraved worst. But I swear you’ll gain no satisfaction from arousing my lust this eve.”
    Never had a woman—or man—spoken to him in such a manner. Not since he had been immortal and his life before this existence was one he blocked from his brain, for there crouched insanity.
    “What makes you think I require your lust?” He offered her a sardonic smile while he continued to tease her swollen nipple and the blood thudded the length of his rigid cock.
    Her lip curled. “Your pride.”
    How intriguing. How true. He forced a derisive laugh. “I don’t give a damn whether you enjoy our coupling or not, my love. We are here for my satisfaction only.”
    “Then fuck me now.” Her scornful glare scorched his retinas. “And wake me when you’ve finished rutting.” With great deliberation, she closed her eyes and relaxed her arms so they fell back against the crimson satin sheets in an attitude of complete submission.
    Rage pumped through him at her casual dismissal, at her assertion she would feel nothing, do nothing, but it was more than rage, more than inarticulate disbelief. More than mere wounded pride .
    His fangs throbbed, and he imagined sinking into her neck, draining her, swallowing her rich life blood and the fantasy consumed, blinded, erased reason.
    How dare she so completely dismiss him?
    Why did he care?
    He had fed again this eve, before coming to her room. Fed? Fuck, he’d gorged so Morana’s scent would no longer tempt him beyond endurance.
    Yet the hunger raked through his guts, shredded his control, ripped out his mind. And all because she refused to succumb to his will, to tremble at the sound of his voice. To play the game by his rules.
    Savagely he ripped the sheet from her body and an