Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Go and clean up.” He arched his chin at the door. “We’re running out of time.”
He’d said that before.
What did he mean, we were running out of time?
Trapped in here we had nothing but time.
But before I could ask, he bared his teeth and ordered, “Go. I won’t ask again. Meet me in the blood-harvesting room.”
Before I could refuse, he stalked through his bedroom and vanished into his private bathroom.
Chapter Fifty-One
I STAGGERED AGAINST THE WALL THE moment I closed the door.
I couldn’t control my heart rate.
Grabbing the sink, I bent over and glowered at myself in the mirror.
What the hell was that?
What the fuck did we do?
My fingers dug into the cold marble as blissful aftershocks continued to detonate in my blood.
I waited for the vitalsync core to punish me.
For Marcus to see how ragged my pulse was and knock me out like usual.
I braced for it.
I cursed it.
The thought of sleeping through my own rebellion made me want to howl and snarl and...
Nothing happened.
Or if it did, it didn’t affect me.
Straightening warily, I pulled aside my shirt.
A red light flickered.
By all accounts, I should be on the floor writhing in absolute agony.
But I wasn’t...
I narrowed my eyes at the hated piece of metal just waiting for it to trick me. But it just kept flashing, harmless and numb.
How?
Why?
A disbelieving laugh escaped. “That’s it?” I shook my head. “That’s the trick?”
I’d spent two decades suffering, yet I’d never once felt pleasure. True raw, sexual pleasure.
Until now.
The realisation smacked me hard.
All those nights I’d fought the torment—all those times I’d been forced to my knees in despair. If I’d actually lowered myself to jerking off, would I have had this level of release?
Or was it because of her?
The second I thought about her, my body tightened as I relived every touch, every rock and squeeze and clench.
I’d never felt anything like it.
Never wanted to.
But now, I didn’t think I’d survive without doing it again and again and again.
Fuck, I wanted her—
Whisper scratched at the door, jerking me back into urgency.
If I wanted her, then I had to focus.
I didn’t have time to waste.
I’d committed to seeing this through and everything else would have to wait.
Because today was the day.
By tonight, I would be free...or dead.
And the very execution of my breakout relied entirely on the very woman who’d just scrambled my heart, set fire to my blood, and blown apart my very existence.
All those rules of never going near a girl still stood.
All my promises that I would die a virgin—so I never ran the risk of cursing another like me, remained.
And yet...
If I managed to get out tonight.
If I somehow won after twenty years of slavery?
Well then...
My reward would be her.
As often as she’d have me.
Chapter Fifty-Two
“ARE YOU FEELING OKAY?” I WHISPERED, unhooking the last blood bag from his cuffed wrist and sticking the printed barcode onto it.
I really hadn’t the mental capacity to deal with bleeding him today.
Not after what happened between us.
Not after what we did.
But it seemed as if I was the only one still utterly drunk on need because Lucien had returned to being cold and callous.
There was something about him that set my teeth on edge. A level of tension that hadn’t been there before.
“I’m fine.” Resting his head against the recliner beside the computers that’d already sent notice that a fresh batch of Ashfall blood was ready to collect, he sighed heavily. Blue painted his lips again and exhaustion muted him, making my heart flutter.
Resting the back of my hand on his forehead, I cursed the contradiction of him.
His eyes flew wide, locking onto mine. “What are you doing?”
I couldn’t look away, even as I dropped my hand.
His lips might be blue, but his skin was fiery.
His face looked almost corpse-like in the harsh lighting, but there was an undercurrent too. Something that made him seem more alive, more dangerous than ever before.
“Well?” he demanded.
“I was checking you don’t have a temperature. You look like you’re coming down with something.”
“What could I possibly be coming down with?” He smiled tightly. “No viruses exist in here and no one gets close to me but you.”
My stomach clenched, ridiculously pleased that I was the only one to touch him, pleasure him.
“Bleeding yourself every three days isn’t sustainable. It’s killing you—”
“You’re calling me weak?” His energy went sharp, daring me to call him out on his suffering.
God, I wanted to.
I wanted to pick a fight with him.
To lay claim to him, to demand he finish what he started back in his bedroom, but...my headache hadn’t receded and no matter how much water I’d splashed on my face in the bathroom, I couldn’t seem to rid myself of the feverish heat he’d caused.
If he didn’t want to talk about what happened, then fine.
Tomorrow was another day.
“I’m not calling you anything,” I muttered, carrying his horribly cooling blood to the fridge. Placing it on the rocking shelf, it looked like a snack for a vampire.