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Something cold and sharp pressed against my throat. “Don’t scream. Don’t fight, bitch” A deep man’s voice hissed on my ear.The man pulled my wrists behind my back, uncovering my mouth...“Please, do not hurt me, I beg you” I cried.But my hair was yanked hard, and the man showed me the big knife he held. Then I felt something wrapped around my wrists, tied behind me.I heard a tearing sound. A silver duct tape went over my mouth; as the man stayed carefully behind me.Then he made me lean over the hood of my car.“What a hot piece of ass you are, bitch. My lucky day” He growled…My purse was set on the hood next to my face. The man was checking the contents. He saw my driver’s license and said I lived in a nice neighborhood… He might have to visit me some time…He was looking through my phone now, laughing at the picture of my husband there…He dropped my phone back in the purse and then he placed his knife on the hood, in front of my eyes. He yanked my head back by the hair and growled in. She wanted this man ... this whatever he was ... and she had no plans for releasing him, ever. He was her trigger, her synthrophos ... her mate."All the better to taste you with, my dear!" She wanted as him off balance as he had made her, and she watched his expression as she slowly regained control of her breathing. Nothing changed, except that now his eyes glowed. What was he? He licked her fang again, turning her face fully to his, and kissing her deeply, before she had breath to speak, or will to resist. His mouth was hot, and she lost herself in its depths, letting him take what it seemed he needed. Because she needed it, too."How much longer are you going to make me wait?" he demanded suddenly, his voice growly, like a grumbling lion."Wait?" she inquired innocently, knowing instinctively what he was demanding. If she had needed any further indication that this one was hers, his question made it abundantly clear. And it raised her already raging blood pressure to the danger.
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