Page 54 of Claim of Blood (Blood Bound #1)

Adam moved with the deadly precision of a predator who’d had millennia to perfect his craft.

His knee drove into the soft space between Lander’s ribs, the impact punching the air from his lungs.

As Lander’s body instinctively folded inward, Adam’s hand shot up to grip his throat, fingers digging into flesh as he used the hold to hurl Lander sideways.

Lander’s body crashed into the console table near the door with bone-rattling force.

The antique exploded beneath him, wood splitting like gunfire, splinters biting deep into his back and arms as the edge carved a cruel groove across his spine.

Air tore from his lungs in a ragged gasp as he landed hard on the floorboards, dazed, limbs sprawled like a broken marionette.

For a second, everything stuttered—breath, sound, thought—replaced by white-hot pain and the copper tang of blood flooding his mouth. Then instinct surged back. He rolled to his side, adrenaline drowning agony, and clawed his way upright.

Across from him, Adam rose with a smooth, predatory grace.

His silhouette was all sharp angles and tension, blood dripping steadily from his chin and painting his bare chest in jagged streaks.

His eyes glittered black and bottomless, locked on Lander with a kind of hungry focus that made the air between them feel electrified.

They began to circle—slow, measured, primal. Not as men, not even as vampires, but as animals poised on the edge of something inevitable. The room felt smaller, like the walls were inching inward.

Adam moved like a predator, uncoiling with effortless and sure precision. Lander’s pulse pounded in his ears, each heartbeat drumming louder than the next. He was heaving, sweat dripping into his eyes, but he didn’t dare blink.

“Feel better?” Adam asked, not even breathing hard.

“Fuck you.” Lander dragged his forearm across his face, smearing blood and sweat into a war mask.

“You’re fighting what you want.” Adam took a slow and deliberate step forward. “What we both want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

Adam smiled. Feral, knowing, cruel. “Your body doesn’t lie.”

Lander lunged. His shoulder slammed into Adam’s midsection like a battering ram, the impact rattling down his spine. They crashed together into the wall, the plaster behind Adam’s back spiderwebbing with fractures, chunks flaking off like brittle bone.

For a heartbeat, they were fused, breathing the same heat, locked chest to chest. Lander could smell himself on Adam’s skin. Blood, sweat, adrenaline. Rage. Lust. Need. All of it coiled between them like a live wire.

“Now what?” Adam whispered, his breath hot against Lander’s ear.

Lander had no answer. In that moment of hesitation, Adam struck. His hands clamped onto Lander’s shoulders with bruising force. One leg hooked behind Lander’s knee, sweeping his foundation away.

The world spun. Lander’s back slammed into the floor hard enough to drive the air from his lungs, his skull bouncing once against the boards.

Stars exploded behind his eyes as Adam followed him down, settling his weight across Lander’s waist. One hand shot up to capture both of Lander’s wrists, pinning them above his head.

His cock stirred traitorously, trapped between their bodies, and the shame of it made him snarl.

With his free hand, Adam calmly reset his nose, cartilage grinding back into place with a wet snap. Lander flinched at the sound—the soft snap echoed too close to memory. The bleeding had stopped, but blood still painted his face as he smiled down at Lander like a prize he’d won.

“Not done yet,” Adam said, his weight pressing down, inescapable.

Lander thrashed, every muscle straining against Adam’s iron grip. “Get. Off. Me.”

“No.” The single word fell like a judge’s gavel, absolute and final.

Lander twisted violently, his entire body arching off the floor in a desperate bid for freedom. His shirt tore at the collar as Adam’s free hand fisted in the fabric, the sound of ripping cotton sharp in the charged air.

“This is what you need, isn’t it?” Adam asked, voice eerily calm as he slowly ripped the shirt down the middle.

“Fuck you.” Lander’s voice was raw, exposed.

“You need me to earn it.” Adam tore the shirt completely off, tossing the ruined fabric aside. “To show you, I’m worthy of your surrender.”

Lander’s struggles intensified, his body arching off the floor in violent waves. His legs thrashed, heels scraping against the hardwood as he tried to find purchase. His knee drove up, connecting with Adam’s ribs hard enough to bruise. Adam barely flinched.

“I don’t—”

“You do.” Adam caught the waistband of Lander’s pants, fingers twisting into the fabric with brutal efficiency. “You need to know you couldn’t stop me even if you tried.”

The material bit into Lander’s hips as Adam’s grip tightened, the seams straining against supernatural strength. Then the pants tore with a vicious rip that sent fabric burning across his skin. Lander hissed at the sting, red welts already blooming where the torn edges had scraped him raw.

His leg lashed out desperately, heel catching Adam’s shoulder with enough force to crack the bone. The blow would have dislocated a human’s joint, sent them sprawling. Adam just smiled, rolling his shoulder as if working out a minor kink.

“Keep fighting,” Adam encouraged, his voice maddeningly calm as he continued methodically destroying Lander’s clothing. “I want you to know exactly how futile this is.”

Lander did. He fought as Adam stripped him bare, fought as cool air touched newly exposed skin, fought as his body betrayed his mind’s protests. But not as hard as he could have.

Not as hard as he should have.

When he finally lay naked on the polished floor, chest heaving, Adam still pinning his wrists, he stared up with defiance born of desperation.

“Say it,” Adam demanded softly.

Lander turned his face away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Adam gripped Lander’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “You need this. You need to know I’m strong enough to take your submission.”

The truth of it burned through Lander’s chest. “I’m not like Leo. I’ll never be naturally...”

“Submissive?” Adam completed. “I know. That’s what makes it worth having.”

Lander’s breath caught. “I can’t just give it to you.”

“Then I’ll take it.” Adam’s eyes darkened. “Every time, if necessary.”

Adam shifted his weight, settling back to straddle Lander’s hips. The movement created a friction that made Lander suddenly aware of his body’s betrayal, the hardness he hadn’t even noticed.

“No,” Lander said, the word feeble even to his own ears.

Adam’s hand struck his cheek like a whip crack, the force of it wrenching Lander’s head sideways. The sting radiated down his jaw, sharp and immediate.

“Truth, Lander. Tell me this is what you need.”

Lander remained turned away, muscles rigid, refusing to meet those ancient eyes again. The silence stretched between them, loaded with everything he couldn’t bring himself to say.

Adam laughed, the sound rich with understanding. “Your body knows what it wants.”

He stood in one fluid motion, towering over Lander’s naked form. Something in his stance, in the confidence of his posture, frayed the thread of Lander’s control.

Panic flared. Lander rolled, scrambling toward the door in a desperate bid for freedom. His hand had barely touched the doorknob when Adam reached him.

Strong arms lifted him completely off his feet.

Lander’s back hit Adam’s chest as he was hauled across the room, struggling uselessly against the iron grip.

His heels kicked at empty air, finding no purchase, no leverage—just the helpless realization that Adam was carrying him exactly where he wanted him to go.

“Enough games,” Adam growled against his ear.

The world tilted as Adam tossed him onto the bed. Lander landed in the center of the mattress, bouncing once against the expensive sheets.

“On your stomach,” Adam ordered, leaning on the bedpost.

Lander glanced at the side of the bed, muscles locked. Every instinct screamed at him to run.

“If you run,” Adam said, “I’ll catch you.”

The certainty in those words settled into Lander’s spine. He stayed frozen as Adam crossed the room with unhurried confidence, opened the drawer, and pulled out a bottle of lube.

Lander’s stomach flipped. “Where—”

“I put it there.” Adam smiled slightly. “On your stomach, Lander.”

Then Adam’s power rolled over him, not forcing its way into his mind, but saturating the air with crushing authority. Every cell in Lander’s body recognized what stood behind him: something older, stronger, more dominant than anything he’d ever encountered.

For the first time in his existence, Lander felt like prey.

Under Adam’s presence, he was small and exposed, trapped beneath the attention of something dangerous.

Submit. Obey.

The commands rose from his own thoughts, his mind bowing under the strain of Adam’s presence. Lander clenched his jaw, trying to resist, but it wasn’t compulsion—it was recognition. His own instincts were turning against him.

“Don’t fight it,” Adam murmured.

Lander’s body moved. He rolled onto his stomach, muscles taut, face burning. Behind him, the soft sound of sweatpants hitting the floor was followed by a silence that hummed with tension.

The mattress dipped under Adam’s weight.

Strong hands gripped his hips, lifting him to his knees. His chest stayed pressed to the bed, arms trembling with restraint. His thighs spread open—exposed, vulnerable, offered.

He panted into the mattress, heat building behind his eyes. He needed to move, to fight, to claw back a sense of control, but all he could do was shake, blood pounding in his ears.

“You’re still in your head,” Adam said softly, hand gliding up Lander’s spine. “Still fighting.”

The first strike cracked through the air.

Adam’s palm connected with Lander’s upturned ass, and Lander flinched violently. Pain bloomed hot across his exposed skin.