He stopped when his finger rested on the hollow of my throat. The lashes on his eyes lowered as Eric watched the vulnerable place beneath his hand. The muscles in my neck strained, becoming taught as his finger pressed deeper and deeper into the soft flesh. I sucked in a ragged breath, pushing myself back against the cage wall. It didn’t matter that I could comprehend that Eric wouldn’t kill me. My body completely ignored the fact. Fear raced through my veins. I couldn’t stop pushing into the steel cage door, trying to get away from him. And I knew what he was doing—how he was playing with me. He watched as his finger pressed harder, and my body tried to melt into the metal. If he pressed a little harder, a little deeper—I’d die. Eric’s finger would crush my windpipe.
A bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face. My hands were gripping the metal mesh, bending it as I tightened my fingers between the slats. Pushing back into the door forced out my chest, and straightened my spine. My long curls fell over my shoulders. Forcing myself, I glanced at Eric. It hadn’t dawned on me how hard he fought to control himself. How hard he tried to be something he was not. This side of him was deeply hidden, and deeply starved.
Eric was fascinated, watching me breathe and listening to the hammering of my heart. When he pressed down harder, I gasped. Pleading, I said in a panicked voice, “Eric, don’t!” He paused, not applying more pressure. His gaze lowered, seeking to meet mine, but I couldn’t look at him. I wheezed in another rough gasp, and Eric lightened his finger more. I could breathe. He watched my lips, and my chest rising as I sucked in air.
He glanced over my shoulder for a split second, and a smile twisted his lips. Was Collin so close? Was he watching? Is that why Eric seemed pleased? I didn’t know. I couldn’t feel anything but the fear that Eric pumped into my body. If Collin was near, I couldn’t sense him. I couldn’t smell his blood. And he remained out of sight, so that I couldn’t see him. Pain coursed through me, thinking that he was watching. I knew he didn’t understand. Hell, I didn’t understand.
But that pain and fear wasn’t enough for Eric. And he took things farther than I’d expected. And the bloodlust didn’t let me stop him. The fallen angel pressed his body to mine. His lips brushed past my ear, breathing in deeply as he did so. His chest pressed against mine, sliding, feeling the swell of my body—the desperation of my breaths. I could feel his wild heart beating frantically beneath his chest. His desire was palpable. Lust overtook me, swelling within my middle until it reached every inch of my body. He held nothing back. Nothing was tempered. My body flushed, heated from head to toe. The only thing I could think about was Eric. Eric’s hands. Eric’s skin … Eric’s taste on my tongue. He’d never done this before. He’d never released himself fully. Eric always tempered the lust, holding it back or contorting it into fear or rage. He controlled my mind and body. And I couldn’t resist.
As he breathed heavily, I felt his firm chest move against mine. Eric’s hand was suddenly at my waist, as he looked into my eyes. They were rimming violet. I couldn’t resist him. I couldn’t push him away. When his hand touched my skin, I sighed. But he didn’t leave it there. Sliding his fingers under my shirt, Eric pressed his palm against my breast. My heart shot into my mouth. Startled, I yelped. Eric’s gaze didn’t waiver. He watched every reaction swim across my face, and then his fingers clamped down squeezing the sensitive skin hard. Pain registered, cutting through the haze clouding my mind. But Eric’s blood held me in place. When I cried out, Eric slammed his lips down on mine. And I melted. His blood was still inside of me, calming me, letting him steal and take anything he wanted. The kiss continued and his hand lingered, pressing harder and harder. Pain continued to shoot through my body until I thought I’d scream. My head swam, feeling large and heavy on my shoulder. Eric’s lips pressed into mine so hard, his tooth nicked my lip. The kiss softened for only a second, a second in which he slid his tongue along the wound—tasting my blood. My stomach twisted as I watched him. Felt him. I felt so lost. So far gone. Eric took my lip in his mouth and bit down gently. Then his lips pressed down on mine. I felt myself weakening, knowing that he was taking from me. I remained tangled in his arms, until Eric increased the pressure on my breast, and twisted hard. My back arched as a scream tore out of my throat. Eric suddenly ripped his lips away from mine, and his hand slid down to my waist.
He leaned in close, breathing raggedly in my ear. He squeezed the bare skin at my waist and withdrew his hand. “He’s across the stage.” A wicked smile spread across Eric’s face. My heart was still racing. I felt the absence of power. I knew he took it. And Eric was beaming, ready to fight. He seemed happy, almost.
I sat there for a moment, catching my breath. Fury built inside of me. I didn’t like him touching me. He hadn’t done that before. My anger made my fists ball up. And before he could move, I swung. My fist connected to the side of his face. Eric staggered. I’d hit him hard. “You didn’t have to do that. I gave you enough without it.” I gave him enough pain, terror, and fear for a moments reprieve, but he took more. He melted me, and used me—feeling me beneath his palm. My breast ached from what he did.
Eric wrapped his fingers around my wrist and jerked me closer. I fell into his chest, and he held me there for a moment, saying, “It doesn’t work that way, and you know it. Having an idea of what you’re doing—of what I’ll take—subdues your fear. It alters the pain. Next time, don’t plan anything and I won’t have to resort to such drastic measures.” He threw me into the cage wall, pushed opened the metal door left me staring across the dark stage into Collin’s flame red eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rage had engulfed Collin, making him shake as he was forced to allow Eric to manhandle me. I was certain Eric grabbed my breast, because he knew Collin and I were finally together. And that Collin was watching. The action would force a wedge between us, making it easier to push Collin away—making it easier to convince him that he had to stay behind. Apparently, Eric planned it that way. A fight would make him give me some distance, if not make him so pissed off that he left me entirely. From the looks of it, Eric and I were intimate. But we weren’t. It was a plan to leave Collin behind. A plan that would keep him safe. I sighed. Eric was smart, but he had no heart. It was cruel. I supposed that was why he did it that way.
As I neared the side of the stage, I stopped in front of Collin, and looked up into blood red eyes. This was the very spot we first spoke. I sat in a chair where he now stood, as he exited the stage. I remember that day in vivid detail. I never expected to be standing with him in this same spot with half the ceiling missing, surrounded by splintered wood and shattered concrete. A breeze blew through the decimated room, lifting the ends of my hair.
Collin’s hands were balled into fists, crossed over his chest. His words were eerily calm when he spoke, “Does he always do that to you?” He asked as if Eric and I did this a lot. Fucking Eric. I scowled, shaking my head. I could explain, but I didn’t. Telling him that Eric only did it because he was standing there would make it worse. Collin looked into my face, studying my eyes. Then he asked softly, “Did you like it?”