Chapter 119

Chapter 119
Samara's POV

A day passed, and then another, and I was totally freaking out, losing my mind because Nyla was still not with me and I had no way of getting the book on the dragon wolf so I could at least search for answers. I was sure there had to be something about a missing wolf inside it, and it was driving me crazy that I could do nothing about my situation.

I was so distracted by it that I accidentally poured mint oil on George's wounds in a much larger portion than I was meant to. He winced and pushed my hand away.

"What the hell, Samara?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to force myself back to the present.

He looked bad for snapping at me. "I'm sorry, too. It's just... it's very painful."

"Oh, sorry."

"I'm sorry," George's tone carried a note of remorse.

I raised an eyebrow at him because I was totally lost. This was not the George I knew. He was usually cold, standoffish, ruthless—there were so many negative adjectives I could use to describe him, but remorseful was not one of them.

"About?" I asked.

"I have not been very nice to you." He put my hand in his and stared into my eyes dreamily.

What the hell was going on? was the only question on my mind.

"I just didn't know how to act around you, knowing that I was going to be with someone else, and I guess I just sort of took that out on you."

I did not understand what was happening right now. He cupped my face with his big hands and tried to kiss me, but I pulled back suddenly.

"No, George. You don't get to do this."

I was hurt and bitter because I remembered the last time we had been close and intimate—and how he had turned me away the very next second, accusing me of being a witch. I was not going to put myself through that sort of humiliation again. I might not have anywhere to go and I might have chosen to be his slave, but I was not going to add sex slave to the list of things I was to him.

He looked hurt and disappointed that I would reject him.

"I'm sorry."

I shook my head. I was not going to let his sudden pitiful voice, warm tone, and vulnerable eyes get to me because I knew it was all an act. George did not have a soul. He was the devil himself, and perhaps the most manipulative person I had ever met. It was a pity he was such a fine-looking man: handsome, sexy, desirable—everything I wanted in my bed, but not in my heart. He was certainly not good for my heart.

"Do you remember your very fine fiancée, Laura, when she suggested that you execute me and you were willing to oblige her?"

"Samara, I thought you would understand. I could not go against her."

"Oh, you couldn't go against her, and that was why you threw me to your wolves in the presence of all your guests to watch as they tore me apart?"

"That is not fair, Samara."

"Really? Because it sounds pretty fair to me, seeing as I have just described exactly what you did to me."

"I wasn't trying to kill you, and you should know that better than anyone else. We both know those wolves adore you. They were never going to tear you apart. It was the only way I could satisfy Laura without actually killing you. It would have proved that you were not a witch when they didn't tear you apart, and then Laura would not be able to use that angle to try to kill you off anymore."

That actually made sense when he said it, and now I had nothing to defend myself with. Suddenly, I felt warm and fuzzy. And who wouldn't? Big George—with his long legs, beefy body, muscles, biceps, and the scars on his body that looked like he had suffered great trials. They were all calling to me, screaming and begging to be touched, to be traced with the tips of my fingers.

Samara, I said in my head, you must not give in to temptation.

But I did not have to, because he circled his arms around my waist, pulling me into the heat of his embrace.

"I'm really sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you."

But I did not believe him. The devil was very smart and very good at telling lies.

"Then what was that in the council hall when you told me I could only be your slave? And you did not do it in the presence of everyone, so you do not have the excuse of—"

He sealed my sentence off with a kiss.

Warmth spread from my lips to my core, my knees weakened and my legs shook and his tongue was yet to slip into my mouth.

I can fight this. I can…

But when his tongue gained entry into my tongue and locked with mine in a feverish dance, I knew my resolve was broken. There was no turning back now. And he knew that because he smiled as his tongue kissed me harder, deeper, trying to thrust itself down my fucking throat.

I hated that George always got his way with any woman he wanted. He had not stayed celibate since we had been intimate—hell, I had seen him with another woman just hours earlier as I walked in to tend to his wounds. But my brain was all marshmallow and my logic gone—there was no going back on this—I knew that and he knew that also.

He only stopped kissing me when we were both out of breath. He stared into my wanton eyes and breathed—you do things to me no other woman does.

“Is that the same line you give to all the others?” I asked him, helpless against his touch, anxiously waiting for him to resume his kisses and perhaps this time a little further down.

“Well now it's your turn to hear it,” he whispered as he gently bit my ear.

That was it. If I had there was any resistance in me before, there was none now. I gave in completely to my nastiest fantasies, allowing myself to be fully committed to the present, forgetting about my absent wolf and the rogue attacks…

George's wet tongue trailed the edge of my jawbone. His tongue was soft on my skin but I could feel the heat of his touch right to my very bones, igniting my blood with a fiery passion that shook my entire body.

“Beautiful, beautiful…” he murmured in his throat as his lips glided down my chest. With one sweep of his strong hands, the top part of my dress gave way for his eyes.

“Beautiful…” he breathed softly, hovering just a bit over my mounds.

Just before I could beg him to take me, his mouth captured my right nipple and he must have known from the last time that it was the more stimulating one. With the right one in his mouth, I expected his hand to be on the left but I felt his hand instead inside me.

How he made it through layers of fabric to get inside of me, I did not know. It did not matter. I gasped, collapsing completely in his arms.

“So tell me, Samara, where did you hide those books?”

“Mmmmhh,” I mumbled breathless, almost nearing heaven.

“Where are those books, huh?” he asked again, “the ones you and your little friend stole from me?”

My eyes flew open.

My heart stopped.

And my entire body froze.

Literally.

I was staring right into George's eyes and he into mine—he had not stopped stroking my insides gently, in a rhythm that brought me to my knees and I was having a fucking orgasm as my heart pounded in fear.

George was the devil.

He really was.

Why did I think that I could trust him with my body yet again?

But that was the thing about devils—they lured you in, making you trust absolutely while you knew that it would never end well and yet, their call was irresistible more so than a siren's.

As I felt a climax coming on, he asked softly, “where are the books Samara? And don't bullshit me with some lie.”

I gasped as I shuddered with his fingers in me.

I hated my body for the way it reacted to George.

“You bastard!” was all I could mutter as I tried to get away from him.

With the orgasm out of the way, my mind was clearer to see his deviousness.

“What?” he scoffed softly, “you're going to play that card?”

“I fucking hate you!” I snapped, forgetting momentarily that he had the potential to snap my neck with the same fingers that had stroked me into heaven.

Alpha George had an amused smile on his lips.

“And yet you chose to stay with me instead of leaving,” he was smiling at me in a way that made me want to scratch his face.

I started towards the door, trying to escape him and perhaps run away. Lillian had been right about leaving this all behind. I should have when I had the chance to.

But George was swifter than I was and he blocked my path with his body.

“What? You won't confess?”

“I don't know what you're talking about!” I yelled at him.

“If you say so,” he replied with a casual shrug, sidestepping to let me pass.

But it should not be this easy and that was how I knew this was another trap.