Mine.

Then he started pumping. In and out. Faster and faster. Her body moved in time with him, and even when her heart felt as if it might beat out of her chest, she didn’t ask him to stop. This was fierce and rough. Bodies slapping against each other. Heat building between them. Climax waiting on the brink.


Beckham was fucking her and she loved it. Every minute of it. She poured her heart and soul into each movement.

He leaned forward on his forearms, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She never wanted this moment to end. But she felt herself so near to her climax. And by the way he grunted and fell forward into her neck she knew he was almost there too.

“Oh God,” she cried. She clenched tight all around him, her body seizing up as waves of pleasure rocked through her body.

Then she felt something else. A prick at her neck. Two pricks. Two very distinct pricks.

Beckham shuddered into her body as his orgasm took over him, but his lips stayed glued to her throat. This time it wasn’t a flood, it was an avalanche or a hurricane. A violent rush that knocked the climax she had just experienced out of the water. Endorphins took over. Her body didn’t just feel fuzzy; it was starting to feel numb. The adrenaline was coursing through her system and attempting to revitalize her, but her fight or flight wasn’t working.

She wanted this. She wanted him to keep drinking. She wanted to feel this eternal paradise. She was trapped in the current and forgetting that she even wanted to swim out of it.

Then it was as if Beckham went…deeper into her throat. She felt another prick and it jolted her out of her daze. He wasn’t stopping. Shit! He wasn’t stopping. He had said it was hard to stop. He had said that he was struggling with it. Why had she tempted him? God, she wanted this, but not like this.

“Beckham!” she cried. She slapped him as hard as she could on the shoulder. He didn’t move. She screamed his name again and tried to shake him. She didn’t know how much he had taken, but she knew if he kept drinking, he would kill her.

She rocked her body around and then screamed at the top of her lungs. The sound of the scream made him wrench his head up to look at her. His eyes were dark and empty. Her blood dripped down his fangs, over his chin, and fell down onto her chest. He was a predator, an animal, and the sight terrified her more than she ever thought it would.

Reyna scrambled away from him and off the bed. She grabbed for her clothes and started putting them on before she even thought another second about what she was doing.

Her mind wasn’t just fuzzy. It was dizzy and delirious. She didn’t know what to think. All she knew was that he was going to kill her. He hadn’t stopped, and he was going to kill her.

He seemed to come back to himself for a split second when he saw her rushing into clothes.

“Reyna?” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She was shaking from head to toe. “You were going to kill me.”

“I wasn’t…”

“I trusted you,” she whispered, her voice breathy.

She wanted to believe him in that moment, that the monster was gone, that her Beckham was back. She wanted to trust that this was a mistake, and all would be right, but how could she forget that he had been feeding off of her like food…like his prey. He hadn’t wanted her for anything more than food. She had sworn to herself she trusted him to stop…but he wasn’t going to. Only her screams had jolted him back to reality…and even then the monster was still brimming under the surface.

Chapter 34

Reyna stumbled out of Beckham’s room and toward the elevator. She had no plan in mind. Terror pricked at her, and it was the only thing fueling her forward. She was shaky. Her body disagreed with every movement. She felt like she could sleep for days, but the desire to run, run far away, kept urging her on.

The elevator door was closing just as she saw Beckham’s face appear. He slammed his hand in the slit before the doors closed and they wrenched back open. She screamed at his appearance. Still completely nude, blood running down his chin and chest. He looked ferocious and deadly.

“Beckham, please,” she muttered.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you. You have to know,” he said.

“I don’t know.” Her body trembled. “You weren’t going to stop. You could have killed me.”

“It was a mistake. Reyna, forgive me,” he ground out, reaching for her.

She stepped back against the elevator wall and shrank from his touch. “You were right. You are a monster.”

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