Primal Pursuit

I grab his hand around the wrist, the one that’s fingering me and making me edge forward on the seat in the booth, and yank it away from me.

“I am not a fucking doll.” I bring his hand up and suck the fingers that were in me, suck them down, licking my arousal from him. The look he gives me could melt both poles in seconds flat.

“Fuck, Rabbit, are you trying to win awards?”

Pulling his fingers from my mouth, I offer a dirty little smile. “Not getting bored?”

“With you? Not yet. Right now, the chase is fucking glorious, and you’re perfect prey.”

I suck his fingers back into my mouth, swirling my tongue over them, and he’s now got his hand on the table’s edge in front of me, and he’s looking down. If I do the same, I know what I’ll see, me on display for his gaze.

The waiter comes over and places the whiskey in front of him.

Davian just says, “Leave the bottle. We don’t need to try it. Go.”

I bite him hard, so hard a normal man would flinch. But not him, because he’s not fucking normal. He just sucks in air and looks like he wants to fucking come.

Drawing his fingers from my lips, he slips them down to rub on my bare, wet pussy, playing with my clit to elicit a moan, one I can’t hold back.

This, I tell myself, is part of my plan. But I know it isn’t. Not an intentional part. This is a perk of the job, a time out to just soak in pleasure of the purely physical kind after a very shitty day.

It just happens to be him.

He lifts his hand and sucks his fingers, too. “You’re delicious, Rabbit.”

The monster pours the wine and hands me a glass. He knows the etiquette of pouring wine and tasting, pouring the right amount. He raises a brow and slowly pours more, pausing at the mark where an expert waiter would leave it, before filling it more. He hands it to me and picks up his bourbon without bothering to get a glass for himself.

“Where did you go?” I hate myself for asking that, but he just looks at me as the waiter returns with the meals.

“Little rabbits shouldn’t ask questions they don’t want answers to.”

I pick up the knife that came with my meal and weigh it in my hand.

“Want to cut me, Rabbit?”

“Not here.”

He laughs, and I… I’m wiggling on the seat, turned on by the fact he isn’t bothered by my bloodthirsty ways. Then again, I don’t think he knows how serious I am. How much I do want to draw his blood, make him suffer.

“Work, Rabbit. I had work.”

Everything goes a little cold, and I gulp some wine. Killing. He means he was killing people. How many little girls did he murder? Or make orphans?

My eyes blur a moment, but I blink fast. I don’t know them, these imaginary people. Maybe he went off to kill evil people. It doesn’t change what he did in the past, but it makes sitting next to him and my lust for him a lot more bearable.

“So, you’re not going to tell me?” I keep prodding like it’s a healing wound I can’t leave alone.

“Not for your big ears.”

“I’m not a child,” I snap. “I can take it, and I can fucking take you down.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

He takes a bite of his meal, then offers me one. “Rabbit for rabbit?”

I close my mouth around his fork, and it’s delicious. “Mmmmm.”