Rapture Untamed (Feral Warriors #4)(25)

His other hand shot to her jaw and gripped it hard, forcing her face up to his. "You're the one I felt in the war room yesterday." He growled, a low, deadly sound."You were feeding off us."

Olivia swallowed convulsively. "Yes. I often feed at low levels. It doesn't hurt anyone.

No one's ever felt it before."

The hand gripping her jaw dropped to her throat, clamping hard as he lifted her onto her toes. Her heart began to thud. If he decided to end her life, he would. Her training and advantages were nothing compared to his raw strength and the power of his animal.

Draining him of his life force would take time. Ripping her head off her shoulders, not so much.

Pamela Palmer Rapture Untamed

"Feed off me, now," he growled.

"No." The word croaked past the constriction of his hand.

He squeezed her neck until tears sprang to her eyes.

"Do it!"

Her stomach twisted and knotted until she feared she was going to be sick. But she opened her senses and fed. Hard.

His hand spasmed. "Stop," he growled.

She stopped. His hold loosened, and she sucked air in too fast and went into a coughing spasm.

"Now feed at the level you did in the war room."

She looked up into cold, cold eyes. Swallowing hard against tears that tried to spring, she forced herself to feed at her normal, low-level grazing speed.

Pamela Palmer Rapture Untamed

"It's different," he murmured, as if to himself. "Looks like I'm the lucky one. You can't suck me dry without me knowing, can you?"

"No one has ever felt it before."

Slowly, he released her and took a step back, his arms crossing over his broad chest, his legs spread shoulder width, his sex lying thick and heavy against his thigh.

He cocked his head, his brows hard and angry as he watched her.

Olivia waited, sweat popping out on her brow, the tree at her back the only thing that kept her from collapsing beneath the weight of the disaster that threatened to destroy her.

"Looks like we have us a little situation here, doesn't it, Sugar?" Jag drawled. The sharp edge of deadly anger was gone from his voice, but the wickedness that replaced it raked cold fingers of dread down her spine. "What do you think will happen when everyone learns what you are?"

She stared at him, light-headed with shock and fear. "We both know what's going to happen."

Pamela Palmer Rapture Untamed

"Damned straight, we do." Jag clucked his tongue, watching her with a look that turned increasingly cunning, heightening her dread. "Lyon might order you killed on the spot. He'll certainly have no more need of your services, and I guarantee he'll never let you near Feral House or the Radiant again. The Guard will kick you out. Can't have you sucking the boys dry, now can they?"

"I don't kill." She swallowed, the lie sticking in her throat. She hadn't killed in a long, long time.

"But you could. Hell, you could destroy them in their sleep, and they'd never know. If the Mage had gotten their hands on you, turned you, you could have been their greatest weapon. Except for one thing. I can feel when you're feeding."

Sweat began to dampen her tank top. He was too close, the anger pouring off him as he toyed with her.

"I'm not dangerous, Jag. I've been draden-kissed since I was seven."

That seemed to stun him, but not for long. He gave her a nasty smile. "You want me to keep your secret, Sugar?"

A small hope leaped inside her, then died. This was Jag. She could never trust him.

Never.

"Maybe we'll have to come to a little understanding," he drawled.

Olivia raked her hand through her hair, resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes closed.Goddess ,I can't take this! What did he want from her? How far would his torment go before he finally brought the guillotine down on her neck? "What kind of...understanding?"

A slow, predatory smile lifted his lips. "You do exactly what I say, Little Red."

"And...?" What? He'd let her live or he wouldn't tell? There was a hell of a difference.

"And you'll do exactly what I say." His finger reached out to trace a line from her throat down her chest to the edge of her tank. "Take off your clothes, Sugar. Every last scrap. Then get down on your hands and knees."

Her scalp crawled, anger and desperation twining within her. "I won't be your slave, Jag."

He closed the distance between them, his eyes daring her to do anything about it. His hand closed around her breast, and he squeezed hard, just short of hurting her. "You will be whatever I want you to be. You're mine now, Red.Mine. "

The word struck at her pride, infuriating her. Damn him.Damn him. As she stared into his cruel eyes, her pride railed. But hope flared red-hot and stayed her hand when all she wanted to do was strike him.

If she did what he wanted, would he keep her secret?

She could only guess. Jag did what Jag wanted and nothing more.

But what if he did? What if her capitulation, her whoring herself, kept him quiet?

No, she'd seen him in action. Capitulation wasn't what he wanted. He wanted conflict.

Fight. He didn't want a placid whore. He would only be happy as long as he knew she hated every minute of everything he did to her.