Chapter 33 33. Chapter
Elijah
There was no tenderness in it. No plea, not even a promise. This kiss was a collision, a brutal, physical meeting of two opposing worlds, detonated by rage and unfulfilled hunger. When my lips crashed into hers, I felt the impact in my teeth, the raw, painful pressure that instantly snapped the last thin thread of rationality.
Aurora did not taste like fear. Coffee, the metallic dust of a scrapyard, and her own sweet, intoxicating essence mingled in her mouth, sending my blood into a boil. She did not melt in my arms. She did not surrender. The momentary shock caused by the kicked-in door and the assault evaporated in a fraction of a second, replaced by the Hunter’s reflex.
I felt her body tense in my grip. The hands that had been clutching the doorknob or her bag curled into fists now, not to hold on, but to strike. A dull, solid blow landed on my chest, but my vampire body barely registered the pain. Pain was just fuel on the fire now.
I pressed her harder against the wooden door. The buckles of the leather harness and the hilts of the daggers she wore beneath her coat dug sharply into my chest. The contrast of cold metal and hot flesh pushed me to the edge of madness. I heard her soft, muffled groan against my mouth, but it was not a sound of pleasure. It was the sound of struggle.
“Mmmnn!” Her voice choked in her throat as my tongue forced its way in.
This was dominance in its purest form. The Ruler reclaiming control. And yet control was an illusion. Because while I dominated her body, the taste of her blood, her scent, her closeness completely enslaved me.
Aurora fought. She jerked her knee up, aiming for my groin, a classic, effective hunter’s move, but I anticipated it. I blocked the strike with my thigh and wedged my leg between hers, forcing them apart and pinning her to the wall. The position was now unmistakably intimate. My hips pressed against hers, and not even the thick fabric of my pants could hide my reaction.
Her hands finally found a target. Not the daggers, but my hair. She was not trying to caress. It was a tear. Her fingers clenched at the nape of my neck, yanking with all her strength to break the kiss. The pain was sharp, my scalp burning, but it only made me wilder.
I finally tore my mouth from hers, just long enough to breathe and to redirect the attack. My lungs heaved. The air between us was hot.
“This is your doing,” I growled into the corner of her mouth, my voice barely more than an animal snarl. “You wanted this fight. You put on the armor.”
Aurora was panting, her chest rising and falling violently beneath me. Her mouth was swollen and red from the brutal kiss, and her eyes, those hateful, beautiful green eyes, were wide, filled with dark, turbulent light.
“Get off me,” she hissed, and her hand slid from my neck to my chest, straight to where my own daggers were hidden beneath my leather straps.
I didn’t let her go. I lowered my head, tracing the edge of her jaw with my mouth, my stubble scraping roughly over her soft skin. I felt her shudder. Not from fear. This reaction was biological. Her body betrayed her mind. Her pulse at her carotid artery beat like a summoning drum.
“No,” I whispered beneath her ear, grazing her skin with my teeth, gentle but threatening, right above the old scar. “You don’t run now. You don’t hide behind your sarcastic remarks. You’re here, in my hands, with all your weapons, and you’re still helpless.”
My hand moved lower. I found the zipper of her coat and yanked it down in one sharp motion. The coat fell open, revealing the leather harness in all its truth. Black leather against pale skin. The cold gleam of daggers. It looked like a work of art designed for destruction.
I grabbed one of the leather straps at her chest. My fingers slid beneath it, touching her skin, feeling the heat of her. Aurora cried out, a short, sharp sound, and grabbed my wrist with both hands, trying to stop me.
“Don’t you dare!” she shouted, but there was a tremor in her voice that had nothing to do with anger.
“Why?” I asked, my gaze following the line of the strap down to her stomach. “Is this protection? Or an invitation? You said this was your safety. All I see is your trap.”
Then something sudden and unexpected happened. Aurora stopped trying to push me away. Instead of wrenching my wrist, her hand slid upward to my shoulder, her fingers digging into the fabric of my coat. Her body pressed a millimeter closer to mine. In her green eyes, the flame of hatred gave way to something darker, something more ancient.
“If you want to kill me, do it,” she whispered, her voice defiant but hoarse with desire. “But don’t play with me, Elijah. If you want to bite, then bite. If you just want to dominate, then you’re weak.”
The challenge. The fucking challenge.
This woman danced on the edge of the abyss and dragged me with her. Her words poured oil on the fire. She thought I only wanted to dominate her? No. I wanted to possess her. I wanted to mark her so that everyone, from the High Council to the last fanatic, would know this Hunter was mine.
My hand released the leather strap and closed around her neck. I didn’t choke her. I just held her there. With my thumb, I traced her chin, forcing her to look up at me.
“I am not weak,” I growled, and crashed my mouth down on hers again.
This kiss was deeper, slower, but far more intense. My tongue invaded her mouth, tasting her, demanding an answer. And I got it. After a moment’s hesitation, Aurora kissed me back. Wildly, clumsily, desperately. Her hands clutched at my shoulders, her nails tearing through the fabric. This was not love. This was two enemies finding a single, burning refuge in their shared destruction.
The outside world ceased to exist. Only the constriction of leather, the clink of weapons, and the thunder of our heartbeats remained within the closed walls of the motel room. I, the Ruler, had just broken the one rule that could have kept us alive. I had tasted the fire that would burn me. And by God, the burn had never felt so good.