Willing (The Un 1) - Page 101

Fear clawing up my throat, my inner demon begs to take over.

Give us control, she pleads, before he kills us.

No, I shout back at her. Never. I’d rather die.

At least I’d be free then. Free from her, from him, from this hunger that’s becoming all-consuming.

Give us control, she demands, or we’ll take it!

Asher pulls on my neck, taking more of my blood.

Instead of feeling a jolt of want, all the muscles in my body spasm in a powerful cramp that causes my lungs to freeze behind my ribs.

Oblivious to my discomfort or simply not caring, Asher sucks again, and black starts to eat up the red.

Realizing I fear the darkness and loss of control more than I fear anything else, I beg Asher to, “Stop.”

Ignoring me, he sucks again, drawing another mouthful.

“Stop, please,” I whimper, the chill of the darkness slithering into my veins.

Finally hearing me, Asher pauses with his lips still clamped onto my throat. Are you ready to drink from me?

Squeezing my eyes shut against the burn of tears, I ask myself that question, and can only answer, “No.”

Asher sighs inside my head as if he’s disappointed and his fangs sink deeper into my flesh. Then I’m not ready to stop.

He sucks in another mouthful, slowly but surely draining me.

“Please, have mercy,” tumbles out of my mouth as my muscles lock up and refuse to relax.

They’re stuck, straining and quivering in a mixture of pleasure and pain against his powerful body.

This is mercy, my love, he answers. If you want me to stop all you need to do is drink from me.

My eyes flutter open when skin brushes softly against my lips.

He doesn’t push, he doesn’t try to force. Asher simply offers me the vein in his wrist. Giving me the choice now.

The tip of my tongue aches with the need to push past my lips, to taste his skin.

Grinding my teeth together, I accidentally bite it, filling my mouth with blood like an idiot.

Tortured now by both the blood in my mouth and Asher drinking from neck, I writhe beneath him.

Asher, please, I beg. At my limit.

Pushing my emotions through the bond, I urge him to feel me. To understand me. To know my confliction. I don’t want to do this.

I don’t want to be a slave to these new monstrous instincts. I want my control back.

Humming, Asher rubs his wrist against my lips before he sucks in yet another mouthful of my life’s essence. If you want your control back, you need to drink.

I know he felt everything I pushed at him. Felt it and dismissed it.

A burst of rage surges through me. How dare he dismiss me.

How dare he force this on me.

He has no right.

Everything I’ve suffered, I’ve suffered because of him.

Unable to stop myself, I buck my hips up and snap. I hate you!

Asher stills above me.

I hate what you’ve done to me! I seethe.

Sliding his fangs out of my neck, he pushes up and rises above my face.

“You hate me?” he asks, his voice unusually soft.

Too far gone in my fury, I fail to recognize the danger. “Yes!”

I buck my hips again. I hate that you stole my life from me.

Gathering up every little drop of rage I’m feeling, I slam it through the bond. I hate that I’m bound to you for eternity!

Asher’s nostrils flare and anger washes over his features.

Then his jaw clenches and his grip loosens.

Eyes darkening with determination, he grits out, “Prove it.”

I scoff at him.

What the hell? Has he not felt everything I’ve shoved at him? What more is there to prove?

When I only stare at him in disbelief, his lips stretch into a condescending smile. “I don’t believe you.”

I thought I couldn’t possibly get any angrier, but those four little words fill me with so much rage the world in front of my eyes becomes a screen of solid crimson.

Acting without thinking, no longer in complete control of my actions, somehow I end up on top of him.

The little voice inside my head encouraging me to hurt him, to punish him.

Make him pay for every sin he’s committed against us.

My claws slash across his bare chest, slicing his skin open.

Asher laughs.

He laughs.

Further enraged, I slash my claws again in the opposite direction, leaving him with crisscrossing stripes.

“Yes, that’s it, kitten,” he says in encouragement. “Show me those cute little claws!”

Growling, I sink my nails into the flesh beneath his pecs and drag them down to his hips.

His skin splits open and blood pours forth, the smell saturating the air.

My hunger rises up, threatening to overcome my rage, as I stare transfixed at the two rivers of red.

I can easily imagine dragging my tongue along the bumps of his abs, licking up every drop.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Asher taunts, utterly relaxed beneath me.

Jerking my attention up, I glare at his face.

Tags: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty The Un Fantasy
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