Sera gaped at him in disbelief. How could he ask her of something so disgusting?
"Drink it now," he commanded, his tone sharp enough to cut off any protest.
"No," she refused, her voice sterner than she expected. His jaw flicked angrily in response before he drew closer.
"Don't try me. Drink it. Now," the last word came out as a snarl while he glowered down at her. Tears of anger brimmed her eyes.
"You want me to drink your spit? This is disgusting," she countered, a hint of defiance flickered in her eyes. And to crush that, he squeezed her jaw in his unyielding grip.
Thrusting his face close to hers, he sneered menacingly, "Don't act like you haven't tasted my spit, Princess? Remember the time I had my tongue buried deep into your throat? Or should I do it again to refresh your memory because I.....?"
"No.." she cut him off, her eyes widening with fear.
"Then do as I say," he replied a bit harshly.
Her reluctant gaze darted to the bottle, disapproval flashing through her features before she raised them to reconnect their gaze, "don't make me do this."
Her eyes implored with his, but he remained solemn and unmoved.
When he didn't relent, she grudgingly reached for the bottle. She knew she wouldn't be the only one paying for her disobedience, he would make her whole family suffer. And she couldn’t put them through more pain, not when her family was already struggling with her mother's ailment.
Ignoring the sharp pangs of her pride, she took the bottle from him and placed the rim against the soft bed of her lips.
He watched her, eyes dark with intrigue and arousal as she drank it all.
As soon as she was done, he tore the bottle from her sugary-slick lips and seized her mouth in a bruising kiss, stealing the lingering sweetness from her tongue. The kiss was feral, punishing yet blazing with a raw need. How dare she put her lips on a bottle that bore someone else's lips prints? It was beyond his tolerance. Those lips belonged only to him and he refused to share even their marks with anyone; be it his family or her own.
He purposefully had brought only two bottles. As pervert as it sounds, he wanted her to drink from his bottle but she refused and made it worse by drinking from Hannah's bottle. How could he let it slide by? He had to sanctify her mouth and make sure she learned her lesson.
The bottle tumbled to the floor as he deepened their kiss, his passion turning voracious, compelling him to tear into her lips and mark every ounce of blood that ran through her veins. He had hated her for thirteen years and he still hates her but only hatred no longer defined what burned inside him. It was a strange fusion of hatred and lust, something far more dangerous and irresistible.
She was breathless by the time he broke their kiss, beyond flustered and disoriented now. Claimed. He had caused that red hue of her lips. He was the reason behind her messy state. He was her first kiss.
And she looked so stunning devoured by him.
She was yet to recover as he leaned in and pecked her lips, unable to resist when she looked so provocative.
A ghost of a smirk playing on his mouth as he murmured hoarsely against her lips, "If just a little spit has you this worked up, princess, how will you handle the real thing?" A hint of amusement laced his voice. She raised her confused gaze to him, amusing him more.
She was just so innocent. If only she could read his thoughts, the poor girl would run for the hills.
With a soft tug, he unraveled the scarf from around her neck, revealing the deep red mark he had left on her skin. He gently grazed the mark with his knuckles before grasping her neck in a possessive grip and brought her face closer to his. His voice was gentle yet firm as he declared, "the only person you’re allowed to share with is me. No one else."
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