Bite Marks (The Lycans 5)

She’d been afraid… but she’d been turned on even more.

She was perfect for me, fate knowing we belonged together from the very start.

A sadist and his masochist.

I was about to follow her, make sure she got home safely, then make her come for me. Fucking hell, I wanted to taste her orgasm covering my tongue and sliding down the back of my throat.

But then the next sequence of events happened, where some fucker had touched her… fucking touched her. But Kayla was strong, my female kicking that prick in the balls until he’d let go and she could keep running.

I slowly turned my head toward the bastard who dared to even look in her direction. I’d break his hands before I killed him, teach him to keep his fucking dirty paws to himself.

The human moved toward the bar, and I stalked him, watched him until I was so close I could smell the stench of sweat and liquor wafting around his frail body. It was only minutes before he was trying that shit on another female. But instead of the woman pushing him away, she fell into the asshole’s arms and giggled.

He moved his mouth to her ear, and I filtered out everything else so I could pick up what he said in the crowded, noisy club.

“Let’s get out of here. Let’s find a dark, quiet place.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head, her palms flat on his chest as she tried pushing him away. “I don’t feel well. I should probably go home.”

“Let me take you home,” he slurred, pulling back and looking down at her with red-rimmed, glossy eyes.

My rage was tangible as I envisioned him doing this with my Kayla, trying to coax her into going with him, touching her when she didn’t want him to. To ease my rage, and for vengeance for my mate—for all the females he did or would victimize in his fucking life—he’d die tonight. And I’d fucking revel in satiating my bloodlust by draining him dry.

So I watched him. Waited. Like a predator stalking his prey. But then again, that’s exactly what he was.

Twenty minutes later he was leading the stumbling, clearly intoxicated female out of the club. I stayed in the shadows and followed him, slipping out the door, feeling my heart race for a completely different reason. I inhaled deeply, smelling him… an acidic, foul scent.

But it was his blood that would fill my belly and ease my hunger. It was what pumped through his veins that would cover the front of my chest, splattered against the asphalt. The girl was mumbling incoherently, but it was evident she didn’t want to go with him, telling him she had to go home, continuously saying no. And the fucker didn’t listen.

All I could picture was Kayla, vulnerable and innocent, this motherfucker taking advantage of her and the situation.

They both stumbled forward, and he seamlessly led her down the alley behind the club.

This time of night, car and foot traffic was almost nonexistent, no one to stop him, no witnesses to see the despicable, foul activities he was trying to do. But I was here. And I saw it all. He’d pay for it.

I saw him push the girl against the brick wall, his hand about to go under her dress, when I was behind him a split second later, wrapping my forearm around his neck and pulling him back from the girl.

The arm I had on his throat made it so he wasn’t able to make much more than garbled sounds. The girl opened her eyes and blinked a few times as she stared at me.

“Go,” I said deeply, aggressively. I needed her the fuck out of here. Her eyes flared, and she swallowed, saying nothing as she nodded and turned and stumbled out of the alleyway, rounding the corner and heading back toward the club.

And then I let myself grin, inhaling deeply and smelling his fear. He kept trying to gargle words, his hands clawing at the palm still wrapped around his throat.

So I tightened my fingers even more, feeling his trachea, so fragile and breakable under my fingers, start to crack, collapse. It wouldn't take much more strength to crush it completely. I turned him around easily, lifting his pathetically weak body off the ground and pinning him up against the brick wall. I leaned in close and grinned.

I could’ve ended him right now, but instead I was going to drag this out nice and slow. I stared into his eyes and reached for his left hand, lifted his arm, and twisted his wrist back hard enough the bone broke and made the most incredible fucking noise echo off the brick buildings on either side of us.

Because he was unable to scream, not with my hold around his throat, the noise that came from him was a panicked sound, like a dying animal. The acidic scent of his fear rose so much I got high off it.