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Vampire's Curse: Bound By Immortality

Foster Rosario has been designed to drive any woman beyond seven sensations of pleasure. He is powerful and elegant. He is drawn to danger and will dangle his fingers in everything that is forbidden. This billionaire bad boy might have you on his speed dial, but you will never capture his heart. Zoe Torres is mysterious and the type of girl that every man desires. With secrets lying in her past, she is determined not to let a man by her side. Immune to Fosters’s advances, she presents something he wishes to conquer. But Foster is not prepared for what he is to learn, the true side of Zoe; her curse will scare him beyond compare, soon though it opens up a door of possibilities for him, and he becomes the man that he truly is. Ruthless and only with a determination to conquer. As he continues to play with fire, he soon gets burned, leaving Zoe and Foster with the tables turned. Will they be able to fight this curse? And when the tables get turned, can they make the right decisions?

Tatum_Whispers · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
97 Chs

Snap Of Restraint

My life is filled with unpredictability. The choices that I choose to make today mostly do count in my favor, but there is that one that turns around and causes a ripple in the pond. I seem to have underestimated myself again. The very thing that Ethan warned me against, I went out and set to do. I often find myself doing as I please.

Stepping onto Antoni's turf was purely revenge; I would not even go as far as to say that it was for business, for the man took what was mine, and I merely went back to collect it. This has now set the wheels in motion for what is perhaps a minor little war. And I, Foster Rosario, find myself at the top of it. So to say that I am happy with what I achieved would be, in some parts, a lie, for I truly do not feel the need to have every asshole out there coming after me for what is mine.

So, I am finding myself in a rather foul mood because of Antoni. The man is greedy, and like me, he takes whatever he lays his eyes on. And on is mine that he as laid them now.

He has taken what is mine once again.

And this is where I want Zoe's help. The reason why I have asked her here tonight. But I fear losing Zoe if she discovers who Foster Rosario really is.

So I have been watching her for the last ten minutes as she is swaying that curves to absolute perfection as she loses herself in the rhythm of the music. I am waiting to lay my hands on her body that is melting hot underneath the neon lights. She is doing it on purpose, with that tiny little dresses that only but cover her sweet spot. From where I sit, I know that she lacks the very basic necessities such as panties. The girl drives me beyond seven sensations of agonizing pleasure just being in her presence.

But presence is one very daring asshole that is making his way over to where she is dancing. The man seems ready to move in on his prey. Ethan watches me as I start to move uncomfortably around in my seat. Now, if I storm down there, I know that Zoe will be pissed at me, for the man is only now standing and having what seems to be a reasonable safe distance conversation with her. Well, even that bugs the shit out of me.

So here I am in absolute agony, watching her laugh with another man. Another man has now casually wrapped his fucking grabby paws around her. Well, that shit does not sit here. Even before Ethan can grab me by the arm, I am there.

"Take your fucking hands off her."

He only gives me a once over, "Whom the fuck do you think you are?"

And yes, my temper blows out in full force. In a flash, before Zoe can even tell the guy to back off, I have him by the collar, "Foster Rosario, that is who the fuck I think I am."

With only a shrug of his shoulders, he makes the fateful mistake to continue, "I don't give a fuck who Foster Rosario is. Now go along and play with your own woman."

While I rip my hands from his shirt, tearing it right open, my hand reaches for the grip of my gun that is firmly chucked into the back of my pants. Without even one hesitation, I let the coldness of the steel rest against my palm and raise it in absolute slow motion against the fucking asshole's head.

The crowd around us starts to scatter, girls screaming in each direction.

With the barrel pressed against his temple, I lean in towards him and whisper, "This is my woman."

I watch as Zoe stands completely motionless, with nothing but fear in her eyes.

But the fear in this asshole's face is what sends that adrenaline through my veins, and once again, I lean forward, "Take your shit and leave. Next time I see you, I will blow your fucking brains out."

With that, I toss him on the floor and walk away.

The next thing I have Zoe behind me, her voice is slightly trembling, and she only but stutters as she tries to scream at me, "What the fuck was that?"

Spinning around on my heels, I face her with a wicked smile, "Showing the fucking asshole what is mine."

"You do not own me, Foster." Well, I do not know if she is trying to convince herself or me, but the words do not even hit home.

"Zoe," I move towards her, but she steps one step back. "Zoe?" The confusion sets into my eyes. I do not understand why she is pushing me away when all I was doing was trying to protect her.

And with each step that I step closer, she keeps moving back. Then finally, as I manage to close the gap, she snaps right at me, "You know what? Leave me alone, Foster. You do not own me."

I still continue to move closer, then she finally erupts, "Get away from me!"

I drop my head, somewhat defeated; she has knocked me hard, and god, it fucking hurts. She just rejected me; quite frankly, I do not care if it is in front of my crew and a bunch of assholes that I do not know. What hits me is that she rejected me, and the worst damn thing of this all, I totally deserve it.

So yes, I am defeated and rejected and not near close enough to giving up. But as I see her going back to the very same dance floor again, the last of my restraint snaps.

Fuck this.

I take my bottle of whiskey and make my way to the office, where I will still be able to see the floor. Even though every part of my body screams that I should just stay away, I cannot find myself doing so.

As she starts to sway her body to the rhythm of the music again, the raging anger that is suffocating every corner of my body lets loose like a beast. As far as my feet take me into the room, every single object that finds itself in my path shatters in pure brute force against the wall. The chair finds its way through the room as glass is shattering into fragments of nothing. I ram my fist with a hatred so raw in the mirror, hundreds of pieces cutting at the skin of my hand.

I lay complete destruction to everything that is and was a part of her until I can say that for now, for this minute, I shall be rid of any thought of her. And when she returns into the passages of my memories, I shall do it again and again until every trace of her has been taken from my life. I am angry; I am furious. She takes herself away from me.

But this thought only exists for a few moments, and she finds her way back into the very place I do not want her to be, she is in my head, and I want her out.

Looking at the chaos that I have created, I sit down and pour myself a whiskey, but then something catches my eye.

Now let me think about this. If I go down there again, then she is truly going to be pissed off, but if I leave it, well, the man might try to take advantage of her. But this is testing my patience as she is laughing with some rather questionable man.

"Well, over my dead body."

In less time it takes to breathe, I am right in front of them; the very moment he sees me descend down on him, he dashes off the dance floor, leaving me with a very pissed-off Zoe. And oh, how I love when she pouts those pink lips when she is mad at me.

"Foster, are you going to be a problem tonight?"

I cannot help but chuckle at myself, "Well, that took you long enough to figure out. Now please stop this and come sit with me."

"No, I am dancing. And I told you to leave me alone."

Ya, that stings, that damn well hurts. But I deserve every word that is thrown in my way. There is no way that she will forgive me any time soon. And with one rather dirty glance over her shoulder, she once again leaves me standing and staring at the back of her.

Why did I have to be so fucking stupid?

So next, I find myself walking out the door of the club and finding the much-needed breath that I need. It has become suffocating in there; I feel I cannot breathe as the hurt takes control of my heart. Is this how you feel when your heart gets broken?

Then only moments later, I see her come walking out of the club. She immediately looks in my direction, but before words can form around her lips, I am in front of her, "Please just hear me out. I was a fucking asshole. You did not deserve it; you deserve better. I know no matter what I am going to say is going to make you feel less hurt or even forgive my stupid ass."

But before I can say anything further, there is a hand that grips me by the shoulders and pulls me back with such force that I tumble backward. And as I gain my ground and turn to face the person that finds himself behind me, I am ripped into total shock.