Page 4 of A Clash of Moonlight
She twisted, tucking her knees to her chest so her feet, not her head, would hit the brick wall, and she pushed off, launching herself back at him, fingers ready to claw out his fucking eyes.
He plucked her from the air. Slammed her to the ground and knelt there on top of her.
Oh, she would kill him, and she would take her time doing it.
His hand on her chest held her down. She grabbed it, but he didn’t budge when she tried to push him off, not even when she put her full strength behind the move.
She almost lost control then, almost let her wolf come out to play. But if she did, her pack would know. She had been blocking them and her father from her thoughts for days, a rare ability in werewolves but one she’d been born with. If she let her guard down, let the pack in and had them rush to her rescue, she would be reinforcing her father’s claim that she needed the pack’s protection.
“Where is your wolf, little one?”
“Be grateful I’m holding her in.” She tried to dislodge his hand again.
“You do not want daddy coming to your rescue?”
She froze. Vampires could read the thoughts of the weak, but she wasn’t weak. He couldn’t get into her head.
“Oh yes. I know who you are. You are Lehr’s naturally born daughter, a rare, special snowflake who is used to always getting what she wants.”
Her nails pierced his flesh, and still he didn’t release her.
He leaned closer to her face. “What is it you want tonight?”
The deep timbre of his voice caressed her skin. His scent made her mouth water. He was a lot older than she’d thought, perhaps even one of the Aged. There would be consequences if she killed him.
She didn’t care.
She released her hold on the hand he was using to pin her down, balled up her fist, then hammered it into the side of his skull.
It was a powerful enough hit to cause his balance to shift. She twisted out from underneath him and rolled to her feet.
He was already standing when she faced him, his posture relaxed, like he’d been in that position forever, just waiting for her to finally rise.
Disrespectful bastard.
“Tell me what you want, Snowflake.”
It felt like he was mocking her, so she attacked again. He blocked her first strike but not the knee she threw into his ribs. That earned her a shove powerful enough to send her to the ground again.
Only for a second. Then she was back up and rushing him again.
No punches or kicks this time. She tackled him. His almost indiscernible oomph said she’d taken him by surprise. She took his back, wrapped her legs around his waist, and squeezed.
If he’d been human, she would have crushed him. But he was vampire and as solid as a gravestone. One hand grabbed her left arm, preventing her from locking it under his chin. His other hand grasped her thigh. His fingers dug in. Then his grip angled higher.
The rage burning inside her shifted into something else, something hotter. Something that made her want his fingers to rise closer to the juncture between her legs. He couldn’t reach there though, not with her fastened to his back like she was.
They rolled once, twice, then again until she hit the wall of the building that backed up to Swirl. He ducked beneath the arm she was trying to choke him with. It gave him enough room to maneuver, to turn toward her so that she no longer straddled his back; she straddled his front.
She didn’t mind the dominant position.
His dark eyes locked on hers. A challenge. His expression looked unaffected, but she felt his hardness against her, making that ache, that need deepen.
Which would be worse? Killing the bastard and inviting the wrath of the vampires? Or fucking him and inviting the wrath of her father?
“Decisions. Decisions,” the vampire said.
She shoved away from him. Despite the time he took to rise back to his feet, he wanted her. His desire leaked into his aura and into his dark gaze. Whether that craving was a thirst for her blood or her body, she didn’t know.