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He lazily pinched her nipple, while the other hand forced her mouth to part enough to welcome his index and middle finger “I will never let anyone hurt you. That” His nails bore into the tender flesh of her breast “Is a privilege that belongs to me.”
In another life, she would’ve fought. She would’ve called him a monster, she would have tried to protect those people. Was her stillness a result of his compulsion, or had fear of retaliation taken over any sympathy than she might have felt?
Then she had no right to think of herself as anything other than a prized animal.
[...]
“I was ever so saddened to hear of your heartbreak, my Lord.” She teased, sipping the wine “Why, I believe Mephistopheles himself might have shared in your pain.”
“Devils shedding tears? My, that would be quite picturesque to behold.” The Vampire Lord was on edge, the flippant tone of his words giving him away all too easily.
How sad, to hold such power but no brain to wield it as one should. Not that she cared, a feral beast was a far more reliable asset to her.