But I’m not.
I’m only more pissed off.
Testing Asher’s grip on my hands, I try to drop my weight to free myself. His fingers tighten, holding me in place.
Putting my faith in his strength, I swiftly bring my knees up and plant my feet on his thighs.
Kicking out, I break his grip and shove him away. “No!”
The crack of his spine connecting with the sink sends a delicious shiver through my body. I want to hurt him more, but I also want to escape.
Torn between the two urges, I waste a few precious seconds before I bolt for the door.
Asher pounces on me when I cross the threshold, grabbing me by the ankle.
Then he yanks my feet out from under me.
I slam down to the floor, nearly face-planting. Throwing my hands down at the last second, I manage to avoid kissing the wood with my chin.
Looking back, I see him crouching behind me. His face is a mask of deadly calm, but I swear I can see his own anger radiating off him in translucent waves.
Snarling over my shoulder, I kick my leg, trying to shake him off.
His fingers only tighten.
“I know it’s as Ambrose said,” he says, some of his composure starting to crack. “You’re newly turned and your emotions are heightened.”
Jerking his arm, he tugs me toward him, dragging me across the floor. “And being hungry certainly isn’t helping…”
Shoving up, I flip myself over and slam my other foot into his chest.
Asher lets out a grunt, but he continues to reel me in, dragging me closer.
“I shouldn’t take any of this personally,” he huffs as he grabs my other leg when I try to kick him again.
Having both legs now, he gives a hard jerk, sliding my ass across the floorboards, and grabs me by the knees. “But I am.”
The red in front of my eyes is so thick now I can barely see through it. I can barely see Asher’s face as he positions himself above me, forcing my legs to spread and make room for him.
I force myself to wait for the perfect moment to strike, knowing he’s expecting it. He’s poised and ready for me to lash out with my hands so he can grab them.
I’m determined to not give him that satisfaction.
Hands squeezing around my knees, Asher watches me, considering his next move. Probably wondering why I’ve done nothing to push him off me.
“Do you accept defeat?” he asks, obviously trying to bait me into making a mistake.
When I simply stare at him, he acts, catching me by surprise. Instead of going for my hands, he goes straight for my neck. Grabbing me by the throat, he tries to keep me pinned to the floor while he lifts his other hand to his mouth.
Before his fangs rip into his skin, I make my move. Thighs squeezing around his waist, I roll to the side, taking him down.
Once he’s on his back, I shove up by jamming my knee into his groin and scramble away.
I hear him growl in pain as I spring up and get my feet under me.
Still unable to vanish, either from the hunger or because he’s done something to stop me, I make a run for the door. Knowing if I could focus my will, I’d be long gone by now.
Before I can make it more than a couple of steps, Asher is stopping me again. This time he uses his entire body to take me down to the floor.
Crumbling under his weight, I scream in frustration.
We roll around in a ball of hissing fangs. Him working to subdue me while I do my best to hurt him without making him bleed.
I have to think about every punch, every kick. Holding myself back.
Under no such limitations, he quickly overpowers me. Capturing my hands, he traps my legs beneath his and sinks his fangs into my neck.
Biting down on me like he’s a wild animal asserting his dominance.
The second his fangs pierce my skin a hot flash of pleasure shoots down to my core. Even starving, my traitorous pussy wants him.
It infuriates me so much, my reaction to him and being overpowered, I release a hair-splitting screech.
Letting some of his humor flow through the bond, Asher’s chest rumbles against me, and he sucks in a hard pull, filling his mouth with my blood.
Another hot flash of want flows through me, threatening to turn my rage into desire.
Panting beneath him, I desperately shove at him, willing to rip my own throat open if it will get him off me, but he only sucks harder.
I’m starving… he knows I’m starving… yet the fucker is drinking from me.
And turning me on while he does it.
This is madness. Utter fucking madness.
What does he hope to gain?
Is he going to truly kill me? Is this what he meant when he said he’d stop me?