Page 28 of A Bond in Blood (Blood Bound Duet #1)

Chapter 28

W hen I woke, Ulrich was gone but Olen was snoring beside me, his fur sticking to my bare back.

I shoved him away, pulling the comforters over my body.

He let out a snarl and his eyes opened slowly. “What?” his voice rumbled.

“Did you shift in your sleep?”

“That happens after a good night.” His dark eyes glistened with mischief.

My cheeks warmed and I pulled the blanket over my head.

“No need to be shy,” he laughed. “Orgasms are very natural.”

I kicked him as hard as I could.

“That was rude,” he laughed again.

“So was your jest,” I replied.

He pulled the blanket back with his teeth as he slid off the bed.

Tucking my knees under my chin, I watched the beast walk around the room.

“You want him,” he growled.

My eyes went wide. “What?”

Olen turned back to me. “Don’t deny it.”

“I can’t want him,” I replied.

Olen’s chin laid on the bed and he stared at me. The image of him brought a smile to my lips. When he was a beast, he was more like the canines my father had at home. Snoring, sleeping, and looking for caresses.

My hand patted his head, and I stared out the open window, letting the sun warm my face.

“It’s not wrong to want him,” Olen muttered.

“Yes it is. It’s possibly the most evil desire my heart could have.”

Olen was silent and I continued to pat his head.

“You begged for him last night.”

My hand stopped moving.

“I did not.”

“Princess,” he laughed. “You begged for him.”

I pushed him away and stood, not caring about my lack of clothing now that the man before me had touched me so intimately.

“Wanting someone’s touch is different from wanting them.”

Olen’s brow rose. “How?”

“Did I want Ulrich to be the one to fulfill my desires? Yes. Do I want Ulrich to be the one to hold my heart? To be the one I trust and run to?”

Olen sat on the ground, as silent as the room we stood in.

I stared at the city beyond and the misted sea in the distance.

I released a breath. “I had someone I thought loved me. Someone whom I confided in. Who I allowed to know my most private thoughts and he took him.”

I turned away from the beast, heading toward the bathing room.

“Ulrich is incapable of love, Olen. He is incapable of being anything more than the monster he has proven himself to be.”

Olen let out a rough snarl while I closed the door. His claws scraped across the stone on the other end, but I refused to allow him in. I needed a moment to sit with my choices. To ponder my insanity. To live in silence and penance for my body wanting more.

Of the beast outside.

And the monster I could not rid my mind of.

Olen was gone when I exited the bathing room. The curtains were still open, and I was surprised to see the late evening sun already setting.

I approached the disheveled bed and sank into the mattress, wrapping my towel around me. In front of me the plush chair still sat tipped over, a reminder of my foolish choices.

“You should feel no shame for last night.”

Ulrich’s voice came from the hidden door, and I turned around. The mask on his face was different. A light cream color, a stark contrast from his usual dark choices.

“I don’t feel shame,” I replied. “Perhaps regret.”

He leaned against the door frame. “Why regret?”

“Why would I not feel regret? I haven’t allowed any hands, besides my own, to touch me in nearly four years. One night of wine and suddenly my morals disappeared.”

“Why wait for so long?” Ulrich crossed the room. He was silent as he bent, pulling up the chair from the floor and sitting before me.

My breath hitched in my chest at the sight of him.

He gave me a sly smile as he leaned back, crossing his legs.

“I was waiting for him,” I replied.

Ulrich sat straight, ending his taunting position. “Why?”

I laughed then shook my head. “Because I wanted to. Because despite him knowing I would never be a virgin bride, I wanted him to know I had waited for him.”

“But it was all fake,” Ulrich replied with a blank expression.

My hands fisted the blanket beneath me. “It was not for me.”

“Would you like to know what he wanted?” Ulrich asked.

I held my towel in place and crawled up to the head of the bed, laying my cheek against my knee. Allowing silence to fill the space.

My heart ached while I stared at the king, unable to respond. Unable to move.

A part of me wanted to know. Wanted to understand how I had been fooled. But the heartbroken part of me that could barely breathe begged for the continued lack of knowledge. To allow me to remain in my ignorance.

“He wasn’t supposed to develop feelings for you,” Ulrich continued without my response.

“He was supposed to write to you. To gather information.”

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because I needed to understand what to expect. Because I knew eventually I had to claim my end of my ancient bargain.” Ulrich leaned back in the chair, thrumming his fingers on the arm. “He was supposed to find out if you were a threat to me. Not write intimate, romantic letters. Not profess love.”

“You said it was fake,” I sniffled.

“Leif was a fool. A hungry and greed-filled being, interested only in his self-preservation. I cannot explain to you why his mind changed, and he allowed you into his heart.”

“So, you lied.” I glared.

“I have not.”

“You said it was fake! That he didn’t love me. Yet you’re claiming he did.”

Ulrich was silent but his fingers continued to tap his chair.

“Did you want him?”

I was enraged by the question. “Of course I did!”

“Have you mourned him?”

“Excuse me?” My eyes went wide at the accusation.

Ulrich leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees while his eyes studied me. “I think he was as much of an escape and a self-preservation plan for you as you were for him.”

“Stop it,” I whimpered.

The chair fell, just as it had the night before while Ulrich stood and crossed the room. Too fast for me to track.

My head pressed against the headboard while he pushed against me. His hands laid above my head and his green eyes held mine.

“Admit it, Brenna,” he whispered. “Admit that while you believe you loved him, you actually loved the idea of him. The escape he provided.”

“No.”

Ulrich pressed his hips into mine and I bit my lip at the hardness between us.

“Admit it.”

“ I will never harm you, Bren,” I whispered. “ I will never cause pain or torment to your mind, heart, or body.”

Ulrich pulled away, blinking with confusion. “What are you saying?”

“I will hold your soul as tenderly as a babe, cradling your kindness with the love it deserves,” I continued while my tears fell. “ I will fight for you every hour of every day. Never allowing harm to come your way.”

“Are you reciting a spell?” Ulrich snapped.

My head turned to him. “Those were his words, Ulrich. His promises. Was I hopeful to have control over myself with him? Of course. But the promises he wrote me, even if they were a ploy in your game, meant the world to me.”

“But the man?” Ulrich countered. “Did you truly love him?”

My frustrated tears fell, and I leaned my head back. “Does it fulfill your sick fantasies and delights to know that you are right? That I loved the idea of him? That I loved the route he gave me toward a life of my own making? That there was a brief, maddening moment of relief when I realized I would not be a bride?”

My lips quivered with my admissions while shame settled over me. It had been there all along; my hidden secret. The apprehension I’d had that day on the dock, waiting to be claimed by a man. Ironic, considering that was exactly what happened.

Gods I was a monster when the relief had washed over me when I realized Leif was dead and would never claim to me.

“How does that feel?” Ulrich whispered.

I glanced up, finding him at the side of the bed, kneeling.

“What?”

“Admitting that.”

I hated his observation. Gods, did I hate how cutting and accurate his words were. I hated my tears that fell even more.

“Like freedom,” I whispered.

Ulrich stood, making his way to the edge of the bed. To my shock, he unbuttoned his shirt, pulling the fabric from his skin.

It fell to the floor. The sound rushing through my blood.

“You let go,” he said quietly.

I gripped the towel around me when his hands went to the ties of his trousers, loosening them with one tug.

“Ulrich.”

“It does not take much to let go, Brenna. Yet you hold onto it all, constantly. Regret.” His trousers hit the ground, and I forced myself to stare only into his eyes. “Hate,” he whispered. His hands landed on the mattress, and he crawled forward. “Shame.” His palms ran up my legs, stopping at the edge of my towel.

“Need.”

I yelled out when the towel was ripped from my body, exposing me to him.

He continued his trek toward me, stopping when he reached my hip. His fingers traced my ink.

“Peace, love, hope, and freedom,” he muttered.

My body was trembling, stealing the words from my lips.

“I am still starving, Brenna,” he whispered, placing his mouth onto my ink. “Last night did nothing but increase my appetite.”

He lifted from me, and I let out a breath of relief mingled with disappointment when suddenly his hands gripped my ankles. My shriek pulled a laugh from his chest, and he dragged my body down until I was laying flat.

I threw my head against the pillow, grasping the sheets under me.

“I’m starving, Brenna,” he whispered.

I couldn't look at him. I couldn’t. Gods I wanted to. Gods—

I pulled my eyes up, finding him staring at me. His gaze hungry.

“Let go.”

His words, once again cut into me. Seeing parts of myself I did not want him to know.

“Please,” I whimpered. “Please.”

“Yes or no,” he replied. “I need an answer.”

My legs shook along with my hands. My eyes went to the ceiling.

“What is this?” I muttered.

“Release. Freedom. Control .”

I met his eyes again at the last word. “Control?”

“In this room.” He crawled toward me once more. His palm landed on my hip, pressing my back against the bed. “You are fully in control.”

“What does that even mean?” I groaned.

“Command me.” His cold came from him, a release of power and need. “Take control, Brenna.”

“I hate my name on your lips.”

“Brenna,” he whispered, holding me tighter. “Brenna.” His head dipped and he kissed my hip once more. “Brenna.”

“Oh my Gods.”

His free hand trailed up my thigh, stopping when he reached the top. “Do you remember what I said about bedding someone you hate?”

I shook. “It’s addictive.”

“Addictive,” he breathed out. “So fucking addictive.”

“Yes.”

His eyes snapped away from my hip. “You can always change your mind.”

“Yes,” I repeated.

“Thank the fucking Gods,” he muttered.

His head dipped and his mouth claimed me like it had the night before. My hips shot upward with the shock of the pleasure. My fingers gripped the sheets tighter, pulling them while his mouth moved with precision.

“Oh my Gods,” I cried.

His fingers continued trailing along my thigh while his mouth moved on me. His tongue circling my clit was followed by hard, unbearable sucking.

“Oh my Gods!” I yelled out again.

“I am the only God in this room, Brenna,” he whispered as his fingers entered me.

Any rational thought, begging me to reconsider my choices, was gone in an instant. Fleeing from my mind while his fingers worked inside of me. Pulling at my need. Calling forth my hidden desires.

“So fucking wet,” he growled before claiming me with his mouth again.

My entire being was shaking the more he worked. Moving his tongue and fingers in sync together. Tugging at my body’s desire to let go.

But I could not.

“Brenna,” he muttered against me. “Control, Brenna.”

“I can’t,” I whimpered, shaking my head.

He rose, pulling his lips from me but his fingers remained. His thumb replaced his mouth while he leaned over me. A giant overpowering me, holding me in place.

“Let go.” He circled his thumb.

“I can’t,” I muttered again.

He added another finger, forcing a scream I could not hold back.

“Control,” he whispered again.

He leaned closer, his chest pressing against mine. His long hair brushed my face while I stared past the mask still fitted across his face. His lips grazed my neck, across my jaw, stopping just above my own.

“Control.”

The word again while his lips lightly brushed mine. Not a kiss, but just as tempting as one.

“Control,” I whispered back.

One nod.

His fingers moved faster.

“Let.” His thumb pressed down. “Go.”

My orgasm took over, claiming me. My back arched with it while my hands pulled the sheets up. Yet he did not stop, he moved faster.

“Yes,” he groaned. “Fuck yes.”

I was shaking. My vision was blurring with not just release but tears of relief. Tears I could not fully understand why they fell.

When my body had stopped convulsing and my breathing had steadied, he finally stopped. Removing his fingers from me then lying down next to me on the bed.

I stared up at the ceiling for a moment then let out a breath of confidence, sitting up to gaze upon his body. Understanding what he had meant when he’d previously spoken of the hidden ink I had yet to see.

My eyes went to the two pieces on his legs, both taking up the entirety of the fronts of his thigh.

The ink on his left thigh was a replica of the carving on the forbidden door, but more intricate, the details fascinating. My hands traced the ink, finding the woman’s face oddly familiar. Features I recognized but could not trace. I moved my touch over the full half of her, the hate in her eyes, the way her hair whipped around her head as though it were caught in the wind. I moved toward the skeletal side, finding sorrow in her other eye.

I lifted my hand, being sure to keep my gaze on his right thigh and I found a door. Odd when its companion was the woman on the other thigh. It appeared to be wood, with spheres. What I believed to be planets, carved into the surface. Connecting each planet were leaf-covered vines. Appearing like a tether between each world. The crack of the door, along the top of the frame, was lighter ink, as though it were mimicking light.

“What are they?” I asked, tracing the planets on the door.

“Places I’ve been and wish to forget,” he replied.

“Why have it inked onto your skin if you wish to forget?”

His hand grasped my wrist, and I met his eyes. “Because they have marked my soul for eternity.”

He released my wrist, and I pulled my hand against my chest. I bit my lip as I forced myself to finally glance below his waist.

My breath caught when I looked upon him and his cock pulsed in response. I moved forward, reaching for him, but he gripped me once more.

“No,” he said.

“Why?” I asked, meeting his eyes.

He pulled my wrist up, forcing my body toward him while he nestled me under his arm.

“This was about your control. Your release.”

“But—”

“No,” he cut me off. “No.”

I held my hand against me, breathing heavily. “You do not want me.”

“Brenna,” he whispered.

I sat up. “Am I not worthy of you when you have a sea of bodies ready and willing whenever you wish?”

“Stop,” he replied.

I stood, throwing my hands up into the air. “This is not about my control. This is about you and your ability to manipulate me.” I turned from him, pacing the room. “I am such a stupid, fucking fool.”

“Brenna.” His voice once again held that low, warning tone.

I twisted to face him. “Your cock obviously wants release, Ulrich.” I pointed to him. “Go and find someone to give it to you.”

Cold wrapped around my feet. I snapped my gaze down, finding his shadows lifting me from the floor, dragging me back to the bed. I slammed against the mattress, the shock rattling me to my core. He crawled over me, lifting my arms over my head with his magic.

“Would you like to know something?” he whispered against my cheek.

“Unhand me,” I cried, fighting against him.

The shadows gripped tighter, and he held my gaze, gripping my face with his hand.

“I have not fucked or bedded a single body since you arrived on this fucking island,” he sneered. “I have not thought about burying myself into anyone but you from the moment those defiant eyes glared at me.”

“Let me go!” I yelled.

“Do not question my decisions to respect your body as me not wanting to destroy and claim you with my bare hands,” he growled.

I glared at him.

“You’re a coward.”

His shadows pulled my legs open, forcing me to scream out in shock.

“Is this what you want?” he whispered, brushing his hand along my jaw. “To be claimed?”

“You’re a coward,” I repeated.

His hand gripped my hip, and his nails dug into my skin. “You like that word.”

I breathed out, holding my angry gaze.

“You are a coward,” I said slowly.

His eyes lit.

He’d finally caught on.

“What an interesting game,” he muttered.

I bit back my smile.

“Oh, what an interesting game,” he repeated while his shadows spread my arms and legs further apart. Holding me completely at his will.

My chest rose in anticipation while he stared at me. His eyes scanning up and down with so much hunger I was sure my body would give out from just his gaze.

“Yes or no,” he whispered.

I glanced down, finding a bead of moisture forming at his tip, then I met his gaze again.

A smile cracked across his lips. He leaned down again, whispering against my ear, “I recall you claiming this cock would be covered in boils.”

I jumped, tugging against his shadow shackles.

“While I can confirm that is not the case,” he reached upward and the sound of the side table drawer opening rattled above me, “I believe a sheath will help calm whatever fears you may have.”

I threw my head back, instantly aroused by the words.

“Scream for me,” he whispered, and I snapped my eyes up. “Let the world know of your control.”

His shadows flipped me to my stomach, lifting my hips into the air. His hand ran down my spine, pausing briefly. His thumb pressed against one of my scars, brushing it with such softness I could not breathe or demand him to remove the hands that had created the mark.

He pulled away and both hands landed on my hips. His finger gently brushed where my ink sat outside of his sight.

“Yes or no,” he repeated.

I pulled against the shadows, knowing I had started this all. I had allowed this.

But I had control.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His hand grabbed a fistful of my hair, and I screamed out while he plunged into me, the sensation sending my body into a fit of shock.

He moved, keeping hold of me, pulling in and out while his shadows held my limbs down.

I was completely and totally at his mercy.

Gods, did I love it.

Our breaths filled the room, while the moon began to bathe us in its red light. Drowning us in its sensual approval.

My body moved against his while the sting of his grasp on my hair continued to force whimpers from my lips.

“Yes,” he grunted, pulling away and then slamming back into me. “Gods, fucking yes.”

He released my hair, and the cold of his shadows let go of my wrists. I pulled myself up, lifting my body slightly. Creating an angle that had my legs shaking.

His hand went to my neck, and he pulled me closer while his hips went faster.

My eyes blurred with ecstasy. “I—” The words became stuck and my eyes widened. I wasn’t sure I could utter them. It was wrong when I was filled with so much pleasure.

“Tell me,” he whispered, tightening his grip on my neck while his other hand reached around me, circling my clit.

My body shook with anticipation, and I reached back with a hand, clawing the skin on his thigh.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

He groaned louder, pumping faster and harder. “So fucking addictive.”

My orgasm was mind-altering, consuming everything that I was. Turning me into a monster that relished in the hate and conquest of controlling the most despicable creature our world knew.

Making him my own personal beast of lust and rage.

I was becoming just like him.