Rome stood, his jaw tight, and jerked on his clothes. When he finished he spoke. "You shouldn't be alone during your breeding cycle. I will take care of you with no obligations, Alison." As he spoke he crossed to her, for each step he took, she retreated until finally he had her backed up against the wall.

He reached out and ran his hand over her cheek and into her hair. He stared into her eyes with a soft glow that spoke of understanding, knowing, caring.

"I know you don't know me, but I am a good male. I can protect you, if you let me." Alison shivered at his words and wondered if he meant to protect her from more than her breeding cycle.

Was he offering long-term protection? Did he care for her? Did he feel this magnetic pull like she did? A part of her yearned to cave in to his words and let his strong arms close around her and protect her. But she knew better than that, had lived the harshness of a cruel man. A man she'd trusted, a man she'd loved.

"I can't, I'm sorry. Please just go." She hated the way her voice broke over the words. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see his face. She grew colder as he moved away from her. A slight trembling began in her stomach and threatened to spread but she clamped down hard and fought it.

She heard the door open, but couldn't look at him. "If you need me at all, if you change your mind, come find me. I can't stay away from a beautiful woman." The door shut softly behind him.

"Then go find another one." Alison thought she heard him say no, but wasn't sure. The door shut softly behind him.

She expected to feel relief, delirious satisfaction even. She was safe now. But she didn't. Instead she felt hollow like an empty shell. Alone and cold like a dying star surrounded by a vast darkness of nothing. But for a while she'd felt warmer than she had in years. And so very alive.

Going to the coffee table, she grabbed the unfinished bottle of champagne and down the last of it. The sweet liquid though did nothing to make her feel better.

It didn't miraculously change her life or send her back in time to make a different decision. Instead she collapsed against the hallway, stumbled down the hall to her bedroom, and fell onto the bed.

"You don't listen well, bitch."

"I'm sorry, I will do better next time. I swear, please don't hurt me, Prince Conlin." The female trembled, hiding her face in the floor below her, but the scent of her musky arousal floated in the air like incense.

"Don't use my name, whore. You're not worthy to speak of me." He grabbed her hair in a fist and lifted her face to smack her hard on the cheek. The reddened skin hardened his cock better than any woman's hand could. He tightened his hand in her hair until her eyes watered in pain, and then he held her in that position and felt his cock grow longer. "You failed me once. Do you know what will happen if you do it again?"

He brought his other hand up to squeeze her slender throat. It would be so easy for him to squeeze the life out of her. When her watery eyes lifted to his, she realized it too. Real fear now replaced her fake struggles. She tried to jerk her hair out of his hand, but he held on tight and laughed, his lips curling cruelly. His cock was throbbing now, a hard rod jutting from his hips. He brought the tip to her lips, but she clamped them tight.

He squeezed her throat in warning. "Do it. Bite me and you'll never regret another thing in your life." Tears spilled down her cheeks as her mouth opened. He pushed in the wet heat of her and growled. Her lips pressed loosely over his, her tongue lax, but he didn't care. That's what made his chest pump faster and his hips thrust harder. He hit the back of her throat and she gagged, so he did it again. "Don't bite me," he gritted through clenched teeth. His hand tightened reflexively on her throat as his come boiled in his balls, readying to explode. He twisted her hair tighter and watched her wince.

Only then did he come.

"Alison," he groaned, closing his eyes and seeing her face, her dark hair, and glasses. It was her mouth he came in and not the blonde.

Pulling his wet, soft dick out, he bent down low to the female. "I look forward to you fucking up again, Sandra. It will be so much worse next time." He jerked the woman up and kissed her on her tear stained lips.

Chapter 7

Alison awoke to a fiery burn throbbing deep within her sex. Her nipples were hard, puckered peaks and her core was pulsing with wet heat. The cotton comforter below her scratched her highly sensitized skin as if it were sandpaper, yet it didn't hurt her, instead she rubbed her back against it like a cat begging for attention.

Her hands cupped her breasts, squeezing the flesh and pulling the hard nipples, but it only served to fuel the sexual fire burning inside her. One man, one image popped up inside her mind only to keep returning each time she tried to shove him out. Rome with his taunting smile and beckoning eyes.

Leave me alone, she wanted to shout, but she moaned instead as her fingers sunk deep inside her. But her fingers weren't thick enough, weren't long enough to give her what she needed. Weren’t him. She tried to think rationally, tried to organize her thoughts but she might as well try meditating her breeding cycle away. Yeah right.

She tore her fingers from her body and stood like a woman about to pounce. It was the middle of the night and there was only one thing she wanted. With each step down the hallway she told herself why this was a very terrible idea: you can't trust him, he might hurt you, you don't want this, you really do want this, and he’s the sexiest man you've ever seen.

Her fingers curled around the doorknob before she realized she was naked. Running back to her room, she grabbed her red satin nightgown. She moaned at the liquid feeling of it as it brushed over her nipples and stomach. She cupped her breasts and massaged the plump flesh until she reached the front door.

She didn't know if she was making the right choice or not, but she was taking a chance. She flung open the door and marched across the yard, steely determination in her stride.

The cold wood floor beneath her feet helped to calm her burning ardor for a moment. She raised her fist to knock and hesitated. Even over the roar of unsatisfied hunger in her head she questioned whether this was the right choice or not. Taking a deep breath, Alison knocked. Once she started, she couldn't stop. She knocked faster and harder until finally the door swung open to a disheveled Rome.

He looked absolutely delicious. He wore nothing except a pair of soft looking sleep pants that hung low on his tight waist. Squinting at the face on his pajama pants, she shook her head in disbelief. "Is that Jacob on your pants. Jacob from Twilight?"

His eyes stopped their slow perusal of her nightgown to toss her a wide grin. "Sure is. These were a gift from Vera. She has a thing for Edward herself."

"Right, of course." She was going to say something, she didn't know what, but lost all train of thought as he grabbed on to the top of the doorframe and leaned forward. Her mouth went dry like the desert as the muscles in his arms and chest tightened and flexed to perfection. She licked her lips as her eyes traced over his tanned skin.

She wanted to remember his body always, for the nights when she was alone in her bed. His nipples were flat and sexy, a darker shade than his tan skin. His hair rested loosely around his shoulders. She loved the light shades of wheat and how they mixed with the darker color brown at his roots.

"I suppose you didn't come here for tea."