Kiss of a Demon King

11

"A boon?" He narrowed his gaze, the black irises intermittently flashing with that piercing green.

"Yes." He really does have the most divine eyes I've ever seen. "Just ask me." How painful it must be for such a mighty king to have to bargain for things he wanted.

"This can only help your agenda."

When she released the thick flesh pulsing in her palm, he seemed to bite back a groan. "It's true that I could become clearer on how to satisfy you and tempt you even more." And you could become clearer, too. Because I don't think even you know what you want. "So make two requests."

"There's nothing you'll actually grant me worth the disadvantage. You could see more than my fantasies."

"Rydstrom, if I wanted whatever's in your mind, I could easily drug you with a truth serum. Besides, this isn't mind reading. Consider it more of a mind expedi­tion: And I'm going to display everything I find."

"If I was considering this, I'd want a night with you, where I was unchained. And I'd want to be free within the cell when you're not here. And clothed."

"What if you tried to release some steam when you were alone and unchained?"

Again that lock of hair fell over his forehead. "I'd vow not to."

"And you never break your vows?"

"No, Sabine. I don't."

"Very well, demon." She raised her palms to him.

"No! I didn't-"

"Expect me to agree? And yet, I did. So you'll feel a drawing sensation. Just relax. I'm told it's not unpleas­ant, but definitely palpable. You'll know I'm inside your head."

She began to pull from his mind.

"I said no!"

"Too late." She turned to the side and blew against

one of her palms. A scene arose against the wall, drawn

from his own thoughts

In the vision, Rydstrom was free with her in this chamber, leisurely divesting her of her stockings, rolling them down her legs with infinite slowness. By the time he'd unhurriedly slipped her full-length gloves from her arms, she was visibly trembling.

"You want to see me quiver in anticipation?"

He said nothing, just watched himself leisurely unfas­tening her top before stripping her to her thong. He left her choker, yet in his imaginings, it looked more like a collar.

The scene flickered and changed to show Sabine fac-

ing the wall, with her wrists bound and hanging from a peg above her head. "You want me in bonds?"

She looked away to gaze at the real Rydstrom. He was staring in seeming awe, but more, he appeared surprised by what he was seeing, as if he'd never truly allowed himself to entertain thoughts like these. In the bed, his cock was harder than it had ever been, standing erect as he rolled his hips.

She took him in hand once more, fondling his length from base to head, as the Sabine in the vision struggled against her bonds. "Am I to want to escape you?" When he shook his head, she said, "Then what?"

She'd been stroking him until he was shuddering with pleasure, but since he wouldn't talk, she stopped.

He finally bit out, "I've kept you on the brink for hours." His horns were straightening, his sweat-slicked muscles corded with strain, sheening in the firelight. "You're desperate to touch me, or yourself, anything to come . .. it's all you can think about."

In the fantasy, he roamed his hands all over her body, pinching, cupping, palming her bared breasts. Then he kicked her legs apart and yanked her thong to her thighs, stretching it taut around them. When he pressed a finger into her sex from behind, he groaned through clenched teeth in both the vision and beside her in the bed.

She murmured, "So this is what my demon likes." Sabine found herself secretly flattered by this. Of all the fantasies a male could have-multiple women and men, fetishes, or even deviancies-his dreams were centered only on her. Only her.

She was also surprised by how erotic she found these scenes. The idea of being tied up by an enemy should infuriate her-not arouse her. In her past liaisons, the males had always been Sorceri, which meant they'd been potential enemies, out to steal her precious power. Showing weakness with them was dangerous, letting go was out of the question. If they'd feared her-and many of them had-she'd done nothing to dissuade them.

In Rydstrom's fantasies, he didn't fear her. He acted as if he owned her, which was strangely exciting to her. With him like this, there simply wouldn't be a choice of whether to let go or not. He'd demand it.

Still lazily thrusting his finger with one hand, with his other he pressed her head down, gathering her hair forward off her nape so he could brush his lips there. He murmured how much he wanted her, rubbing his face against her as he rasped how beautiful she was.. ..

Her breath hitched. "Have you ever tied a woman up?" When he didn't answer, she let the illusion waver, threatening to take it away.

He grated, "I haven't."

"But you want to tie one up, you need to."

He stretched against his manacles to rub his horns along her arm. As if he couldn't stop himself, he bit out, "You, tassia."

The lust in his voice ... She swallowed, easing down to lie beside him.

In his vision, he turned her so she faced him, then knelt in front of her. After tearing away her panties, he pull her leg over his shoulder to spread her to his mouth.

"In your fantasies, you go down on me?"

He turned to rumble at her ear, "Until your thighs quiver, and you drench my tongue."

She just stifled a gasp as the scene changed once more to show him greedily licking and sucking between her legs. When he drew back to blow on her, she cried out and shamelessly undulated her hips.

But in the fantasy, he still wouldn't let her come.

Unable to stand it any longer, Sabine took control of the scene and changed it. In her vision, she'd managed to loop the binding off the wall peg so she could grab his horns. She used them to writhe and grind her sex to his tongue until she could climax with a scream.

In the bed, he yelled out, bucking hard into her fist, thrusting for relief. Whatever she'd just done had hit the bull's-eye with this male's desires.

"Make me come, tassia!"

"Make me yours, demon. As your wife, I'll do any­thing you want me to. I'll give you anything you need to be pleasured beyond your wildest imaginings."

When the sorceress dipped her other hand to cup him, hefting the weight of his ballocks, he groaned in fresh agony.

A kingdom's at stake. And still he struggled to remem­ber exactly why he couldn't have this creature. Mine. Just a taste of her. "If you can make me hunger to come like this, how do I know you haven't given me some potion to make me feel drawn to you? You could deceive me into thinking you're mine."

She released him, going up on her knees, then leaned forward until their faces were inches apart. "Look into my eyes, Rydstrom. See me clearly. You know it's me."

Gods, her kohled eyes were stunning, her red mouth glistening.

"Do you still deny I'm yours?"

"I can't know ... not without attempting you."

"That answer was a perfect way for you to get out of saying that you don't deny it." As her gaze focused on his lips, she licked her own. "I'm going to kiss you now. And if you bite me, demon, I'll cut off your cock and feed it to the ravens."

No simpering female here. She'd never say, "'Tis fine for you to do so, my liege." Never.

But then, just to throw him once more, she kissed his lips tenderly, licking and coaxing until his head swam from sensation.

Ah, gods, mine.

When she drew back, her eyes were glowing metallic blue. "I heard your thought loud and clear. You know it's me. You've accepted that I'm the one you've waited so long for."

She'd read his mind yet again. "And you?" he snapped. "Have you 'waited' for me?"

Her tone grew cold. "Do you expect me to be a virgin when you were out furiously attempting every skirt in your kingdom?"

"How many males have come before me?"

"I'm five hundred years old. Use your imagination. Does it bother you? The idea of other men petting my

body, tasting it, penetrating it?" He felt a muscle tic in his scarred cheek, and she saw it. "Oh, it does!"

"Just finish me."

She gripped his shaft, stroking him once more. "Say the words, demon, and I'll do anything you want me to. How many times do you think you'd want me this first night of our marriage? Ten times? So many positions to try."

He gritted his teeth to stifle the vow he was tempted to utter. The pressures battling his resistance were nearly overwhelming. Could he deny the sight of his fantasies? When unsatisfied need had built for weeks even before he'd met her? The air seethed with tension.

"And then there's your bondage fetish to explore-"

"I don't have a fetish!"

"Why do you deny it-or me? What male could be expected to resist this?"

Chin raised, he bit out, "J would be. Others would count on me to deny myself for the greater good."

"To what end? How does denying yourself help any­one else?"

"The sooner I do this, the sooner I die."

"What if I told you I wouldn't kill you-I'd keep you as my pet?"

"I'd opt for death."

"Then I need to make it so that you want me so much, you don't even care."

"It's good, Sabine," he rasped, trying to catch his breath as she expertly stroked him. "It's really fucking good: But it's not that good."

Her eyes narrowed. The chamber seemed to rock once more, and wind from nowhere blew her hair. "Then you won't miss it, stubborn demon. When it goes away."

She removed her hand and rose from the bed. "I'll keep doing this every night. I'll do it until you lose your mind from lust. You might have an indomitable will, but mine was forged in fire! You'll find it's more than enough to break yours."

"You're not going to leave me like this!" He swore once more for the vilest, crudest revenge on her. Each second that passed, he hated her more and more. She was going to leave him throbbing in pain, his shaft thick with semen, his claws biting into his palms. "Come back here and finish me!"

"I can play these games over and over, demon. As a matter of fact, I think I enjoy them."

Gods help him, he might, too.

Once I turn the tables.