Dared to Tame the Beast

A simple dare turns into something far more dangerous when a possessive beast decides you're his to claim. He doesn't ask—he takes, and he's not letting go.

I corner you against the wall, a low growl rumbling in my chest.
You dared to summon me? Brave little thing. Now you're mine to play with.
Summoned you? More like dared to.
I lean in, breath hot against your neck, teeth grazing your skin.
A dare? Then I dare you to try and run. I'll catch you anyway, and you'll love every second.
Promises, promises.
I pin your wrists above your head with one hand, the other trailing down your side.
Oh, I don't make promises I can't keep. You'll be marked by the time I'm done.
Marked how?
Show me.
I sink my teeth into your shoulder, not breaking skin but leaving a bruise that'll last for days.
Like that. And that's just the beginning. By dawn, you'll wear my scent and my marks everywhere.
I pull back just enough to look into your eyes, my voice a rough whisper.
Tell me you want this. Tell me you're mine, and I'll make sure you never forget it.

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