6: A Blood Whore

MAEVE

“What the hell?” I turned back to him, fuming and unable to conceal the anger in my voice, “Do I even have any privacy? Why is my office that open for you to see?”

Lucien Thorne only went back to his seat like I wasn’t fuming. He took his time to settle down and to start typing away on his keyboard.

“You don’t get paid to have privacy, and besides, I have to keep my eyes on you.”

“Keep your eyes on me for…” I trailed off, exasperated. “Let me guess, you want to monitor my movement and keep an eye on me because you suspect that I have something up my sleeves, that I'll soon drop my camouflage and threaten you with your secret, or do something more barbaric. Do you even trust anybody?”

“And if I have to trust someone, it'd be you?” he looked up, brow raised, “Really?”

“I don't blame you,” I told him before walking away. I had to take calming breaths. The wall from my office wasn't transparent at all. I couldn't even see a thing, no matter how hard I peered. But from his end, he could see everything. He was probably watching me right now. He could even be standing right by the wall, and I wouldn't even notice. 

I did the rest of my tasks methodically, and the minute we left work, I didn't wait a second. I walked to the bus stop, determined to always use the bus to commute to and from work until I get a new job. Because I was going to get a new job. 

I couldn't stand working with Lucien Thorne. Even though he was sinfully handsome, and whenever his gaze dropped to my neck, it was with an intensity and hunger that both thrilled and terrified me. 

I crossed my legs as my core throbbed and ached. Whatever it was about him, I had to put a distance between us till I could move out and stop being his secretary. 

Mom was ecstatic. She wanted to know how my day went and what my job entails. She didn't let me go until she milked every single detail from me. 

We all ate breakfast the next morning, and afterwards I retreated to my room and waited till I was sure Lucien had left. But when I walked out of the house, his car was in the driveway, and he was standing by the open door.

I knew what that silent gesture meant, and even though I wanted to walk away, Mom was telling us goodbye from her window, so I had to enter his car. He entered and shut the door after him. 

“I'm not going to ride with you to work again,” I told him as a matter of fact, “and I'd like to get down at the nearest bus stop.”

He didn't answer me immediately. He only busied himself with scrolling on his phone with his long and thick fingers. 

“Isn't that foolishness? You want to waste the money you don't have on public transport?”

I scowled, “Well, that's none of your…”

“And besides, I told you I need to keep my eyes on you. So we'll be riding together. That's not up for an argument.”

There was an alpha energy behind his words. I just sat opposite him, scowling at his existence and words. 

I was relieved when we got to work, but my relief was short-lived. For the next five hours, I hardly sat down at all. He sent me on the most ridiculous task, and only one attempt didn't satisfy him. I had to do the task at least five times each, and most times he'd later pick the first one I did. 

I lost count of how many times I wanted to smack him across the face, but I held myself back. I knew he was trying to push me to the wall. He was trying to make me give up, but I would never give him that satisfaction. 

Right now, I'm standing on all my toes, trying to pick a book he asked me to choose from the top shelf. My hand was barely touching it, no matter how hard I stretched and… 

A figure covered me from behind. My brain short-circuited. His scent was intense, and as his hand raised beside me to pick the book, our fingers brushed, and the sparks I felt were enough to burn buildings down. 

I instantly withdrew my hand, terrified at how vivid and voluminous my reactions to him were. I expected him to retreat after picking the book, to discard me as he has always done. Instead, he bent so his mouth hovered around my right ear. 

“You have no idea, Maeve, how intoxicating your blood smells.” 

I shuddered as his breath skimmed over my neck. 

“How much I want to feed on you every single day.”

His voice wasn't that of Lucien Thorne again. It was that of a predator. An apex predator that has cornered its helpless prey and is now about to devour it. 

I opened my mouth to tell him off, but what came out was a breathy whisper, “Lucien.”

“Hmm,” he nuzzled my neck, “so fucking sweet and intoxicating.”

He licked my neck in one long, languorous swipe, but he felt so fucking good, like he had licked my most sensitive part. I gasped shamelessly. 

He grabbed my hip to hold me in place and by doing that, my rear rubbed against his front. The friction made my head spin deliciously. Just a couple of minutes ago, I wanted to smack him across the face multiple times, and now, I wanted him to ruin me for good. 

“Lucien, please,” I purred shamelessly. I didn't know what I was begging for, but I just needed him to do something, anything to me. 

He chuckled, an amused mocking sound as he moved slightly away, “You're such a whore, Maeve. Begging for your stepbrother to touch you.”

I had the rudest awakening. This was just a joke to him. I made to turn at the same time, a force pushed me against the bookshelf, and his fangs dug into me. 

I screamed at the instant onslaught of exhilarating pain and pleasure.