Promised to the Tyrant
"I can smell blood, Stray, and it is not mine. So you are definitely bleeding."
"I am not bleeding," I repeated those words, but this time, as they rang through my head, they took on a different meaning.
Racking through my brain, I tried to remember what date it was, but there was no need for that.
The unexpected sensation in my lower abdomen, which was hidden behind my orgasm until a few seconds ago, came to the forefront.
Oh God! He was right; I was bleeding. Damn, his keen senses.
The realization washed over me, tainting my cheeks with the blush of embarrassment, one that extinguished all that confidence in one go.