The ground slams against my back, knocking the air from my lungs.
“We're here. Finally.” The figure standing over me stretches out his arms and exhales loudly. “You know, for someone who weighs ten kilograms wet through, you're quite a kicker.”
I want to ask him what he expected from someone he more or less plucked off the street, but I'm too busy forcing the air back into my chest to speak. The man laughs softly. “Then again, if our situations were reversed, I wouldn't be happy, either. But that's life, isn't it? You don't want to be here, and I'm just carrying out orders.”
“Or...ders?” I finally manage to choke out.
“Yeah. I'm not in the business of snatching young women away, but Ruki wants you, so...” He finishes the sentence with a shrug.
I stare up at him. It's hard to imagine anyone ordering this man around. His height and wide shoulders alone make him look like someone even Subaru would struggle to stand against. Light brown waves fall in a messy ponytail over his shoulders, and his face, while smiling now, hides a danger that makes me shudder. I've lived with the Sakamakis long enough to recognise the type of person who can snap from being laid-back to furious in an instant, and my gut tells me this man is a prime example.
“Where am I?” I ask, looking around. We seem to be in a bedroom, though from the smell of dust in the air, it hasn't been used in a while. I only caught glimpses of the mansion from the outside, as I was too busy struggling and hammering at the man's back with my fists to take in much of my surroundings.
“A spare room. Nowadays, we use it more as a storeroom.” The man gestures at the piles of boxes stacked in the corners, most likely the source of the dusty smell. “Nobody's home at the moment, so it looks like I'll be babysitting you for a while.”
The amount of questions I have unanswered makes my head spin, but I decide to concentrate on the one that sits foremost at my mind. “What's going to happen to me?”
“Huh?” The man's smile falls a little. “Didn't you hear me? I just told you. We're going to wait for Ruki together.”
He talks as if I'm supposed to have any idea who Ruki is. I make to get up, but the man snaps his fingers and points to the floor at my feet. “What are you doing? Sit down.” The anger that flashes through his tone makes me obey without question.
For a while, all is silent. My eyes travel to the door, and I consider making a run for it, until I remember that the man locked it on the way in. Apart from that, there's the window. It's closed, but the latch looks simple enough that I could open it and slip out. Providing the man doesn't catch me first, of course. Which he would. There's no doubt in my mind about that.
Finally, the man groans and runs a hand through his hair. “God, this is boring.” He turns, and once again, his gaze falls on me. “You know, Ruki only told me to bring you here. He didn't say anything about not touching you.” A smile lights up his face again. “What say we have some fun, you and I?”
Before I can stop him, he's fallen on top of me, pinning my wrists to the ground. I try to kick him off, but it's like driving my knee into a brick wall.
“Get off me,” I snap through gritted teeth.
“Hmm? Is that really a wise thing to be saying?” The man keeps his voice light and taunting. “You live with the Sakamakis. What would the aristocrat bastards do if you refused them like that?”
I have refused the Sakamakis, many times, and it always ends the same way. Still, it doesn't stop me from struggling against him. Laughing, he lowers his head a little, possibly to whisper something in my ear. I smash my forehead into his so hard it makes an audible thud and leaves my brain spinning, but it does the job: he groans and loosens his grip on my wrists, giving me a few precious seconds to wiggle out from underneath him.
I head straight for the window. My hands shake as I reach for the latch and throw it open, flooding the room with crisp night air. For a moment, I actually believe I can escape, until an arm wraps around my chest and picks me up off the ground.
I'm so surprised at being airbourne all of a sudden that I freeze. It's a mistake that costs me. Using his other arm, the man snaps the window closed and locks it.
“Put me down,” I shout. “Please!”
The man ignores me. With my body still clutched against his like a ragdoll, he opens up one of the boxes nearby and digs inside for a few seconds. Then, apparently having found what he was looking for, he throws me to the floor again.
I barely have time to flip onto my back before a boot hits me in the chest. The man leans into me. Instead of the air being knocked from me all at once, I feel it slowly being squeezed from my lungs.
“And here I was hoping you were going to behave for me,” he mumbles.
He increases the weight until it feels like my ribs might crack from the pressure. I want to beg him to stop, apologise for trying to escape, but all that escapes my mouth is a strangled scream.
It feels like whole minutes have passed before the man finally lifts his boot. My eyes sting with tears I didn't even realise I'd cried. With a grunt, he bends over and places something across my mouth. At first, I think it's a strip of fabric, but it feels thinner and sticks to the skin around my lips. A piece of packing tape.
“That's better.” He cocks his head above me, as if deciding whether I need another strip or not. The tape is the industrial brand, strong enough that I struggle to even part my lips. After another moment's consideration, the man pulls out another strip, tears it with his teeth and places it on top of the last one.
“Subservience suits you well,” he says, leaning back to admire his handiwork. “You look so much more appealing with that damn mouth shut. In fact...” He spins the roll of tape around one long finger. “Why don't we take it one step further?”
The ache in my chest has left me paralysed, unable to do anything but watch as he rolls me onto my front, pulls my hands above my head and wraps a length of tape around my wrists so tightly I'm afraid the blood supply will cut off.
The man's laugh is surprisingly soft above me. “What do you think of that? You're wrapped up like a nice little present now. I should deliver you to Ruki with a bow tied around your head.” As he speaks, he slips his hands beneath my shirt and runs them up my back, slowly lifting the fabric up to expose my skin. I shiver, a result of both his touch and the cold air in the room.
When his fingers brush my nape, he pauses. “What's this?”
I know without looking that he's found the bite marks left behind on my neck. He clicks his tongue and mutters, “Seeing such a nice little back marred by their fangs really pisses me off.”
I wince as one of his fingernails jabs into a puncture wound. While vampire bite usually take less time to heal than normal injuries, I've only had these ones a day, which means they're still fresh enough to bleed should he rub them too hard.
“Then again...” He withdraws his hands, grabs the back of my collar and tears my shirt open down the back. “I like a challenge. Looks like I'm going to have to work twice as hard to make sure you forget the Sakamakis.”
Soft lips brush the sensitive skin of my nape, making me tremble. “You'll need a name to call out, I suppose. Call me Yuma Mukami.”
His sharp intake of breath is all the warning I get before he sinks his fangs into my shoulder. I thrash beneath him, the tape around my mouth turning my scream into an agonised groan. I can tell he's trying to bite me as deeply as possible, as if doing so will erase the marks left behind from yesterday.
Yuma pulls back his lips and mutters, “I suspected as much. Your blood's just about the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. I can see why the Sakamakis were so intent on keeping you as their pet now.”
With a grunt, he flips me onto my back. I catch a glimpse of his smiling face before he bites me again, this time at the base of my neck. I tilt back my head and squeeze my eyes shut, unable to stop a new wave of tears from welling up. The sound of Yuma greedily gulping down my blood fills my ears.
He exhales loudly as he lifts his head. There's a faraway look in his eyes, something I see often in the vampires I know when they've just tasted blood. “Fuck. I think I could go crazy just from this alone.” His eyes suddenly focus on my face. “Why are you crying? I'd have thought you'd be used to this by now.” Leaning down, he laps up a droplet of blood that's leaked from one of the wounds in my neck. His lips twist into a grin. “On the other hand, I should thank the Sakamakis, even if they are filthy fucking aristocrats. Humans are nothing more than blood bags that exist for our enjoyment. It looks like they've already done the job of teaching you that.”
I want to tell him he's wrong. The Sakamakis have said the same thing to me over and over, right from the beginning. If I can listen to them telling me how worthless I am and still fight back, then I can do the same to this stranger.
But of course, I have no way of telling him that. I only hope he can see it in my eyes.
Yuma raises an eyebrow at my expression. Then he throws his head back and laughs. “Now, that's a pissed off look if I've ever seen one. Did I strike a soft spot?” His voice drops a little. “You're unlucky, little pig. I thought your blood was going to be enough for me, but you've got me all riled up. Looks like you're going to have to do more to satisfy me now.”
The slow trailing of his fingertips across my bare stomach make it more than obvious what he's talking about. My heart leaps to my throat. I shake my head furiously and try to kick him, but he easily restrains my legs.
“Oh, you don't want to be doing that.” Despite the smile on Yuma's face, his tone drips with danger. “You see, I can be nice, or I can make you scream. The choice is yours. But mark my words when I say that I always get what I want.”
The fear that courses through my veins has rendered me powerless. I want to look away, but I can't help but watch as he unbuttons my shorts and slides them slowly down my legs along with my underwear. His fingers brush against my inner thighs, making me quiver.
“Just as I thought,” Yuma mumbles. “You're already soaked.” He takes his middle finger and brushes it against my opening before slipping it inside. I grunt with the suddenness of the movement. “I guess this kind of behaviour turns you on, now that you've been with the Sakamakis for so long. Did they ever touch you like this, I wonder?” His finger curls inside me, earning a muffled moan. “Well, whatever. I promised you I'd make you forget about them, didn't I?”
He withdraws his finger sharply and brings it to his lips. I can tell just from the sound of his breaths that he's aching to take me. While a part of me yearns to keep fighting back, I know that it's an impossible battle. Even if Yuma didn't have a vampire's strength, he's one of the biggest men I've ever laid eyes on. There's no way for me to escape this except to close my eyes and let him have his way.
Perhaps noticing the fight drain out of me, Yuma runs a hand down my cheek and kisses my forehead in an unexpectedly tender gesture. Then he places the hand by the side of my head to prop himself up while his other unzips his trousers. I feel him rub himself a couple of times before placing the tip against my opening.
I cry out as Yuma pushes the first couple of inches inside. No matter if he'd added a second or third finger in the brief preparation he gave me, I doubt it could have prepared my body for what I'm feeling right now. The sensation of being stretched around him is overwhelming.
Yuma chuckles. “You're pretty cute with your face screwed up like that. Almost makes me feel bad for being so rough with you earlier.”
He moves his hips slowly, sliding more and more of himself into me with each thrust. I push my head back against the floor and moan, my hands balling into fists against my bonds. Yuma grunts softly.
“I want to hear your your voice.” He grabs hold of the tape on my mouth and tears it off in one go. The sharp pain makes me wince.
I open my mouth to speak, but a thrust of his hips turns my words into a groan. Yuma stares down into my eyes, and then, finally, his lips meet mine. I let him lead, accepting his tongue as it slides into my mouth, flicking against mine to match the hungry rhythm of his hips.
“Yuma.” The word isn't so much as a conscious thought as a cry. I don't even realise it's left my mouth until he grins.
“That's right, little pig. Scream my name.” He slips a hand beneath the small of my back and lifts me into him. His hips slap against mine with every thrust. I can barely breathe, barely think about anything but the way he feels inside me.
His lips assault my neck, tongue brushing over the marks he's left behind. I can sense that he wants to bite me again. In a moment of weakness, I whisper to him, “Do it.”
He doesn't need to be asked twice. I whimper as his fangs sink into my neck, bringing forth the blood that he craves so deeply. His body shakes as he sucks, the sound of his moans both terrifying and arousing at the same time.
I barely have time to react before Yuma pulls out and throws me onto my front. His hand angles my hip up, and then he's thrusting into me again, rocking my body to its core. The tips of his hair tickle my shoulders.
Yuma's moans come fast and heavy. His hand slips beneath my ruined shirt to cup my breast, fingers kneading the soft flesh with an almost desperate need. I can tell he's nearing his climax. Driven by a sudden need to please him, I push my hips against his, meeting his every thrust. My hands slam against the hard floor. I feel so utterly full with him inside me, so consumed by him, that I'm melting from the inside out. He can take my blood. Whatever he wants. I'm his now.
With one final grunt, Yuma climaxes hard. The hand on my breast squeezes me so hard I have to grit my teeth to keep from crying out. The muscles of his stomach clench against my back as he presses me against him, riding out his orgasm with long, hard breaths.
When it's finally over, he releases his hold on me and pulls out. Finally, I can breathe again.
“You took that pretty well, huh?” Yuma rolls onto the floor beside me, chest rising and falling with his frantic breaths. His hair falls in a mess around his face.
I'm too flustered to reply. My body aches from the assault it's just been through. Yuma reaches out a hand to cup my chin, though for some reason, I don't shy away from him. Maybe it's the exhaustion I feel finally taking a hold of me.
Yuma covers my lips with his own. It's a soft, sweet gesture, completely at odds with the rough treatment he's just put my body through. I'm not quite sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, I want to push him away. On the other, I'm inclined to accept his touch, no matter how much reason protests.
Clearly sensing my indecision, Yuma wraps a strong arm around me and pulls me into him. I breathe in the scent of his shirt.
“We've still got a while until Ruki arrives, I suspect,” he mumbles. “Why don't you rest up a bit?”
His hand slips down the length of my body until it reaches my arse, which he squeezes with his long fingers. My breath hitches in my throat.
“You never know. I might even have time to play with you again before he gets here.” Yuma laughs softly and kisses the top of my head. “Here.”
He reaches up and begins to peel away the tape around my wrists. When I'm free, I rub the pink skin and draw my hands into my chest. It feels strange to finally have control of my hands again. Yuma squeezes me closer to him. The strength of his grip makes it clear that I have no chance of getting away, nowhere to run to. Even if I somehow manage to escape this room, he'll hunt me down.
But perhaps, for now, I'm okay with that.