I woke slowly, pressing up to sit. My body hummed with warmth as I looked around the empty room. The door to the bedroom was
closed, the room unfamiliar except for the fuzzy haze of being brought here when I’d been in pain.
I touched a hand to my ribs, finding nothing but smooth, unblemished skin when I twisted to look at it. The memory of Gray’s blood came over me quickly, making me queasy with the reality of what that might mean.
The area between my legs throbbed with need, as if the blood he’d given me had only amplified the desire he’d created in me before. I wanted to tear his throat out. I wanted to tear his clothes off.
The fact that I wasn’t even sure which one I wanted more terrified me.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, pausing for a moment to glare down at my ruined shirt. The buttons were missing, and I found one on the floor as I looked around. With a scoff, I tugged it off my shoulders and tossed it onto the bed behind me. Making my way to his closet, I helped myself to one of his dress shirts, slipping it on over my shoulders and buttoning it slowly.
It was so long it covered my skirt entirely, so I unzipped the stiff green fabric and shoved it down my thighs. I couldn’t stand to wear Susannah’s house colors for another moment. It gathered at my feet, leaving me to step out of it and toss it onto the bed with my ruined shirt. With only my thigh- highs and Gray’s shirt, I swallowed as I moved to the door and pried it open to peek out.
The seating area was empty, so I pulled the door open wider and stepped out. I ran my fingers over the back of the sofa as I moved, glancing at the books covering his coffee table. I wouldn’t have pegged the immortal being for a reader, but there was no denying the way they were littered around his space.
“Are you looking for something in particular, Witchling?” he asked, his voice coming from the alcove where I knew his desk was. I moved toward it slowly, a flush creeping up the back of my neck as I tried to will the need in my body to just die already. The depth of his voice did something to me, sending a pang of want through me, which I felt with every step.
“Something sharp and pointy, preferably,” I said as I strode toward the alcove. I touched my hand to the wall as I curved around it, feeling the moment his gaze settled on me.
He dropped his pen to the desk, leaning back in his chair as he stared at me. “Are you sure about that? Helping yourself to my shirt, I would be inclined to say you’re looking for something to gag on.”
My mouth dropped open, an incredulous laugh tearing free from my throat. Of all the things he could have said…
That was the last thing I expected.
He grinned as he stood from his chair, stepping around the edge of the desk to approach me. He stopped in front of me, making no move to touch me.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his forehead pinching as if he were genuinely concerned.
I swallowed, my discomfort growing beneath the weight of that gaze. Only the bargain, I reminded myself. He needed me to stay alive and to do his job to keep me safe, or there would be consequences for him.
It was nothing more than the bargain. “Better,” I whispered, my voice raw.
He reached behind him, plucking a tumbler off his desk and handing it to me. I took a delicate sip of the amber liquid, trying to let it bolster me.
“Water would have been more appropriate if you’re nursing me back to health.”
Gray shrugged, taking the tumbler and turning it in his grip. He made sure to take a sip from the exact same place I had, the intimacy of the intention behind that making me squirm.
“You look healthy enough to me,” he said, smirking as he set it on top of the desk.
I shifted on my feet, feeling uncomfortable. “Thank you. For coming for me. For keeping her from…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought. It was horrific to think of what she might have done if Gray hadn’t come when he had.
“I’ll always come for you, Witchling,” he said, holding my stare for a moment.
Those blue eyes glimmered with something that felt like more, stealing the breath from my lungs for a suspended moment in time. The gold seemed to flash; the twisted connection between us pulling taut.
Then he ruined it, turning his stare away and touching the underside of my chin. “Can’t have you being the one to give me orders, now, can I?”
I grimaced, the reminder serving its purpose. Grounding me in the reality.
Love wasn’t in the cards for me. Not with a witch, and definitely not with a Vessel. We could and would work together, but this was nothing more than a business arrangement between two people who hated each other.
Even if we wanted to rip one another’s clothes off.
I moved around him, approaching his desk and putting him behind me. Drawing in a few deep breaths to steady myself without that piercing stare on mine, I fiddled with the paperweight on his desk. The black gem was somehow translucent, and the face of a woman stared back at me as I lifted it.
Her face was blurred, and I couldn’t see the details as Gray reached around me and set it back on the desk. I whirled, spinning on him and shaking off the dread the sight of that woman filled me with. The makeshift crown upon her head was a twisted, gnarled thing, with birch branches sweeping across her head like antlers.
“Susannah isn’t going to let me bring us back to the old ways without a fight. We’ll need to avoid her notice for a while,” I admitted, wondering how far Gray’s protection would actually go.
“That sounds familiar,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared down at me with a raised brow, reminding me of the warning he’d issued at the gravesite.
“You were right, okay? I should have listened to you. You know her better than I do,” I mumbled, twisting my lips.
“That looked absolutely painful,” he muttered, rolling his eyes to the side. “But I’m glad if nothing else, this has put us on the same page. Do what you must to work toward your end goal, but don’t endanger yourself in the process.”
“We should discuss strategy. I’m sure you have thoughts about the best way to go about this,” I said, watching as he strode around his desk and left me there. He bent over a piece of paper, picking up his pen and scribbling a note for himself as if I were a bother.
“Love, I don’t give the first shit about the politics of the Coven. I don’t care how they choose to practice. If they want to waste the gift they were given, then they deserve to lose it,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face as my stomach dropped. Nausea churned in it as I tipped my head to the side, my eyes drifting closed in my confusion.
“But our bargain—” I broke off, a shuddering gasp leaving me as his steely stare met mine when I opened my eyes. “You never cared about the magic, did you?”
The white of his teeth glinted as he ran his tongue over his fang. “I got what I wanted out of our bargain,” he said, evading the question entirely. His eyes dropped down my body, that feeling of nausea in my gut so at odds with the pressure between my legs. Even now, with the unrelenting rage building in me, I couldn’t push it away.
“You fucking asshole!” I screamed, grabbing the black paperweight off his desk. I threw it, aiming for his stupid, handsome face. My body moved more quickly than I expected, the paperweight flying through the air too quickly for me to track.
I had only a moment of shock as it sped toward his face, and he twisted out of its path only just in time for it to skim over his shoulder. Crashing into the portrait of Lucifer behind him, it shattered into shards of glass on the credenza below the portrait, cutting a seam through the center of the canvas.
For a moment, everything was still. Gray’s attention snagged on that paperweight on the floor, remaining there as I fumbled for what to do. For what to say. I wouldn’t apologize when he’d manipulated me so thoroughly. But could I blame him? I’d been so convinced I had the upper hand that
I hadn’t thought it through. I hadn’t considered that he may not have the
same goals as I did. The fault was mine entirely, but I still hated him for it.
He turned to face me, his body moving so painfully slowly that I counted my breaths before his stare landed on me once again. His face was so carefully controlled, and somehow, I thought that might be worse than his rage.
I blinked.
He was gone.
My breath rattled in my lungs, and I pursed my lips together as I turned my head slowly. Looking over my shoulder. I didn’t dare move, didn’t dare to give him any reason to think I’d run. The hair on the back of my neck rose, and in this moment, I knew he was the predator and I was the prey.
His hand wrapped around my nape, shoving me forward as he appeared at my side. His other hand swept everything off his desk with a growl, sending it clattering to the floor with a crash I suspected everyone in Hollow’s Grove heard.
He shoved me toward the desk, bending me forward so harshly that I only just managed to catch myself with my hands and keep my face from smacking against the wood.
“Thorne!” I said, wincing when he pushed harder and shoved my cheek against it. He kept me pinned there, a low rumble vibrating in his chest.
“That is not my name. Not to you,” he warned, holding me still as I fought, pushing against his grip.
He leaned his body over mine, the fabric of his slacks rubbing against the bare skin of my thighs and my ass where his shirt had ridden up in the scuffle. His lips touched my cheek, his eyes so close to mine that it felt like nothing existed but him. His mouth brushed my skin as he spoke, sending a shiver through me.
“I think you’ve forgotten what I am, Witchling.”
“A mistake I won’t make again, you fucking—” I said, glaring at him as my nostrils flared with my anger. He was too fucking strong, keeping me pinned still without any effort on his part. I could exhaust myself, and he wouldn’t even break a sweat.
“I tolerate your mouth because you amuse me, Willow. Tread carefully, or you just might cease to be amusing,” he said, his voice stern as he pulled back slightly. He stared down at me, keeping me held still as I swallowed my retort. “I am a demon,” he growled, holding my gaze with blue eyes that seemed to shine from within. “I may be trapped within a body that
resembles a man, but you would be a fool to mistake me for one. I am not human, and I will not behave as one.”
“There is a difference between expecting you to be human and expecting you not to lie to me,” I said, sinking my teeth into the inside of my cheek in an attempt to keep some of the venom from my voice.
“When have I lied to you?” he asked, his head tipping to the side with genuine curiosity.
“You said I was safe with you!” I hissed, struggling against his grip to prove my point.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice a soft murmur.
I considered his words, analyzing my body from my fingers to my toes. In spite of his harsh treatment and the speed with which he’d moved me to the desk, I didn’t think I’d so much as bumped against it. I greatly doubted there would be so much as a bruise on me the next day.
“Or are you wet?” he asked, and the hand that didn’t pin me at the nape touched my bare hip. I halted against the desk, wincing as his fingers slid over the swell of my ass.
He cupped a single cheek in his palm, gripping it and digging his fingertips into it as I fought back my strangled whimper.
“Fuck you.”
“I do believe that’s what you want,” he said, his laughter sliding over my skin and making me feel too warm. The mixture of desire and rage burning in me was almost too much to handle, leaving me gasping on his desk as he leaned over me once again. “Do you want to come, Witchling?”
“I want you to release me,” I snarled, rearing back against his hand. I barely managed to push up at all before he shoved me back down, flattening my cheek against the desk.
“That is not going to happen,” he said, the smirk in his voice making me seethe. I searched for plants in his room, for anything I could use against him. I didn’t suspect it would end well, but it didn’t matter.
There were none.
I raised my foot, slamming it down upon the stone with a grunt. It cracked beneath the force of my heel, my magic echoing through it as the floor beneath us shook.
He slapped my ass lightly, sending a tiny jolt of sharp heat through me.
The swell of my ass cheek shook lightly when he struck it. “That was expensive.”
“Of course you would know how much it cost. You’re older than dirt!” I scoffed.
“Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll let you go,” he murmured, sliding his hand from the fleshy part of my ass to where I bent over. He slid it between my legs, brushing his thumb over the lace of my thong where it covered my pussy.
I moaned, my hips moving to seek out more of the pressure. There was no controlling it, no containing the surge of pleasure that spiraled through me. He’d edged me so efficiently and left me wanting for days. My body wanted the release it was owed.
“I am going to cut off your dick and feed it to you,” I threatened when he stopped, shifting his hand to the inside of my thigh once more. It horrified me to feel how slick my skin was, how wet I’d become the moment he touched me.
The moment he put the fear of the devil in me after I’d thrown that paperweight.
There was something seriously fucking wrong with me.
“That would be very foolish, since my cock is the only one your pretty little cunt can find pleasure in,” he said, his laughter coating my skin as he shoved the fabric of his shirt up farther. Leaning forward, he trailed his mouth up the bare skin of my spine, tracing the trunk of my tree tattoo with his tongue.
“What do you want from me?” I whimpered, every touch of his lips or tongue sending a pulse of want straight to my pussy.
He chuckled against my spine, slipping his free hand between my legs once more and shoving my panties to the side so that he could touch bare skin. A single finger found my entrance, sliding into me slowly and stroking over a spot within me that made my eyes roll back. Grinning into my back, he ran his fang over the curve of my hip.
“Beg.”
“What?” I asked, my mouth going dry. He couldn’t be fucking serious. “Beg me to make you come. If you expect me to get on my knees for
you, then you’d better be ready to ask me for it, Witchling,” he growled, stroking my clit with his thumb while his finger made slow, smooth slides in and out of me.
“Gray,” I mumbled, faltering for any other words. I couldn’t give him that. Even in my desperation, even knowing it was what I was meant to be
doing. Vessels couldn’t love, but they could feel desire. They could feel convenience and attraction.
They could trust the woman they fucked and leave her unaccompanied in their office.
“Give me the words,” he ordered.
“Please release me, and I’ll do it myself,” I growled in spite of myself. His chuckle was a bastardization of humor. It was the brutal reality that
I didn’t think he ever intended to release me. Even when he was done with me, he’d probably keep the compulsion on me for the sick satisfaction that I would never again be able to find pleasure.
With myself. With anyone.
And it would be he who filled my fantasies. The only man who could make me come.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked, squeezing his hand at the back of my neck. “Beg me to make you come.”
I whimpered when he added a second finger to me, the slow twist of them inside me absolutely torturous. He gave just enough to torment me, his careful control both admirable and terrifying.
“Please,” I whispered, hating the word as soon as it left my mouth.
“Please what, Witchling? Please stop?” he asked, drawing a strangled sob from me.
“Please make me come, Gray,” I whimpered, my body going slack against the desk. I gave up, having given the only thing I hadn’t wanted to sacrifice.
He was silent for a moment, his hand stilling between my legs before he released my neck, and the ability to move was suddenly mine once again. I pushed off the desk, feeling his hand slide down my spine to press into the small of my back.
“Lie down and grab the edge of the desk. Now, Willow,” he ordered, and his body left mine. The air felt too warm in the absence of his touch, but I did as he’d commanded.
Lowering myself to the desk, I rested my cheek against it the way he’d held me before. Stretching up with both hands, I grasped the edge of the desk on the other side. His fingers hooked into the fabric of my thong on either side, dragging it down over my ass and thighs and helping me step out of it. He slapped his palm down on the inside of my thigh, making me jolt.
“Spread your legs for me.”
I swallowed, letting my eyes drift closed as I obeyed. I watched from the corner of my eye as his form blurred, lowering to the floor behind me.
“Oh God,” I whimpered when the heat of his gaze settled on the bare flesh between my legs.
He slid a single hand against me, cupping my pussy and working his thumb in and out of me. “God has nothing to do with the things I’m going to do to you, Witchling,” he said, leaning forward.
His breath touched my heated flesh, sending a wave of pleasure through me. I waited for the moment his mouth touched me, waited for him to deliver on his promise.
He shifted to the inside of my thigh instead, placing a delicate kiss against it. His lips spread wide, his teeth sinking into the skin on the back of my thigh as I gasped.
The pain was instant and all-consuming, drawing out the pleasure he’d tormented me with. The sharp bite only lasted a moment, and then something else took its place.
I moaned, pushing back against his mouth as the fire went straight to my belly. As it curled and writhed inside of me, finding a home. His ragged groan drove me forward, my fingers clutching the edge as if my life depended on it. I drifted through the haze of pleasure, losing track of the space around me as he drank from me.
“Gray,” I whimpered, feeling something crack in my hands.
He pulled his fangs free, the wet heat of his mouth coasting over my flesh. The moment his lips touched mine, I was lost.
Nothing existed but the brand of his mouth on me. But the heat of his tongue sliding through me. He pressed his face into my flesh, and there was nothing teasing in the way he devoured me. He ate like a man starved, like I was his last meal on earth.
“Fuck,” I groaned, resisting the urge to writhe on his tongue. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Moaning into me, he proceeded to give me what I wanted. His tongue found my clit, circling it slowly and bringing me to the edge. He kept me there, his careful, masterful strokes driving me insane.
“Gray!” I shrieked, losing myself to the pleasure that lingered just out of reach.
It was so close I could taste it.
He pressed his tongue flat against me, the shallow, firm sweeps of it against me finally driving me over the edge. I went lax against the desk, my grip releasing as I cried out. White flashed behind my eyes as they closed, filling my vision with nothing but light so bright I thought I might never see the dark again.
My breath came in deep, shuddering pants when I snapped back to reality, feeling the firmness of the desk against me. Gray rose to his feet behind me, helping to peel me off the wood. He said nothing as he spun me to sit on the edge, staring down at me as if he could see inside my very soul. He couldn’t, because if he could, he’d have killed me already. The
Vessels might have liked Charlotte, but they wouldn’t like a random witch who could unmake them and had been raised to hate them all.
“You broke my desk,” he said finally, his chuckle drawing a smile from
me.
I turned to look at the cracked wood where I’d gripped it, shrugging as I
wondered what other skills his blood would give me. “Be grateful it wasn’t your face.”
He smiled, running his thumb over my lip. I tasted myself on his skin, still trying to catch my breath.
“Go get some rest,” he said, stepping back and moving to his chair. I stepped away, taking the reprieve to gather myself. “But Willow?” he called out as I approached the door. I turned to face him, pretending my heart wasn’t pounding in my chest. “The next time we see each other, it will be you on your knees.”
I held his gaze, trying to cling to the pleasure that left me satiated. “Don’t fuck with my energy, demon,” I said, turning and leaving his office.
That sounded like a tomorrow problem.
