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Chains, ropes, no clothes.

Lana almost had a stroke when she woke up to that. Her wrists tied to the bedrails and her ankles wrapped in chains. Where her clothes went? Something told her, Blade knew the answer to that.

The real question was, how did she not wake up to this? Her second night with him, she hadn't slept the entire time, she'd been awake, afraid that if she closed her eyes, this would happen. And here she was, enduring the things she had been afraid of. She had lacked sleep so much that she had become comatose and now, she regretted that.

When her eyes fell onto his large form as he stood in the doorway, watching her. She knew she was about to endure so much more than just chains and ropes. She couldn't feel her heart beating in her chest and for a moment she considered the thought that she may have died from the fear running through her but when she could hear the sound of her own heavy pants as he got closer, she knew she was alive and breathing and somewhere deep down, she thought maybe being dead would be a better option.

Her voice was silent against the cloth he had placed in her mouth. She wanted to spit it out but her attempts were futile, she was stuck, trapped and soon, she would be broken just a little more, because only the devil himself could read the darkness crawling inside of Blade as he stepped to the bed. His eyes roaming her body, his mind wrapped around one thing. Her.

He'd held back from taking her for a day, a day too long and now, the hunger within him was clawing at his insides, yearning to get to her. Aching for the feel of her flesh against his. He wanted her. He wanted her way more than before. The sight of her retrained and bound to his bed, helpless, afraid. It did scary things to him, things that he couldn't keep to himself. He didn't want to hurt her, he wanted her to come to him willingly this time but the way she lay there, all delicate and fragile. He saw nothing but the image of him breaking her down. He felt nothing but desire. Thirst. Addiction.

She shook her head rapidly from side to side as he steadied himself on the bed, finding his way in between her legs and leaning over her, towering over her small body, the body he had planned to destroy. The shattered pieces of her heart sank deep into her stomach as she felt him press his body onto hers, holding her skin captive between him and the mattress. He didn't feel the pain in his ribs as he stared down at his little kitten. The pain was almost none existent while he drowned in the depths of her scent.

She flinched against his enflaming touch on her cheek, his fingers tracing over her skin, his eyes glued to her lips. He wanted to kiss her, to take her mouth against his and never stop, to never let go. She thought he was making her lose her sanity but she had no idea that she'd already made him lose his. When it came to her, self control was something he couldn't work with. He wanted her, so much that it was becoming unhealthy and he knew that she, she would be the death of him.

His hand reached for his zipper, his skin almost burning with the intensity of how close he was to being inside her again, how close he was to claiming her. And that thought drove him crazy, crazy enough to not see that the girl laying beneath him was the same girl he had saved the life of. The same girl he loved so much, so why couldn't he stop hurting her? Oh but Blade loved to see her in pain, only if that pain was inflicted by him. Only if he was the one making her suffer, because Blade, his love was too strong, too much that it had become harmful, his love for her, it was destructive.

Her throat clogged up with the hate in her heart as she felt him rub himself against her, pressing the tip of his member onto her opening, forcing his way in as he growled into her ear. The feel of her tight warm walls against his length suffocating him with need. Drowning him in pleasure. So he thrusted, and thrusted, while she cried, and cried. Those tears, they turned him on, they made his insides wild with the need to multiply them, to watch her leak before him as he swam inside her.

He couldn't stop. The more he thrusted deeper into her, the further he sank into the pleasure surging through him. His fingers found their way to her throat, squeezing her small neck. He knew that he could kill her if he wanted, he was a choke away from ending her life. But killing her was the last thing he wanted, her love was the first. And as he pressed his weight onto hers, pounding into her, choking her delicate throat, he knew that she was far from loving him. He knew he had to be gentle with her if he ever wanted her to feel something for him, he knew he had to stop the torments but the devil inside him, that devil wanted to fuck her into loving him, it wanted to force her into giving him her heart.

His thrusts got harder and rougher with each dark thought that surrounded him, his body on fire with the need to empty out the explosion that was building through him. He gripped her throat harder, almost tight enough to choke her to unconsciousness, however, his pleasure had reached its limits and he wanted to see his sin filling her mouth.

Pulling out of her, he ripped the cloth out of her mouth, replacing it with his member, the warmth of her tongue on his sensitive skin tantalising his need to be set free from the hunger racing through him. He pulled out of her mouth, rubbing his length over and over until he knew he was a second away from release. Shoving himself back through her lips, he emptied his orgasm onto her tongue and down her throat, groaning out in utter satisfaction.

But that satisfaction ended just as fast as it had came once the devil residing in him faded and the hunger eased down, because when he saw the look in her eyes, the hate that filled them, that hate, it killed him.

Without another word, he stood up and left the room. Leaving his kitten to the hell he had created for her. The hell that he had created for the both of them.

Because loving her, was just as torturous,

For him,

As it was,

For her.

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