The Predator

She was trembling, skin hot, feverish. Weak.

Despicable.

Yet she clung to me as though I was the only thing tethering her to this fucking world. My lips pressed against her pulse point, slow, deliberate. Her body, that delicate little thing, responded. It always did. And it always would. I would make sure of that.

It amused me. The fear in her eyes mingled with something else. Submission, maybe. Or was it a fractured will, too broken to resist?

Didn’t matter.

It just made me want to trace the edge of her jaw, and I did as my thumb brushed over her soft burning skin. Fragile. Breakable. But...