Текст книги "Prince of Demons"

Автор книги: Nora Ash

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

23

Kesh

Fury pounded in his temples as he waded out of the tub and carried the Breeder by her arms to the bed. She screamed when he tossed her on it, and scrambled backward when he knelt on the foot end, towering over her. She didn’t get far. He grabbed her by the ankles and yanked, sending her onto her back. She kicked to free herself, but her strength was no match for his. One vicious rip of fabric, and her body was bared to him, long, creamy legs leading up to the tuft of hair covering the apex he yearned to devour. He inhaled deeply on instinct, desperate for the tang of her—but along with warm pussy, what filled his lungs was acrid terror and despair.

A bright memory filled his mind on the heels of that uniquely devastating scent, and his breath caught in his lungs as anguish flooded his body: His mother. Curled up on her marital bed. Weeping.

His father’s semen seeping from her.

Her hiss at him to stay away when he, with childish panic, tried to comfort her, tried to glue back together the center of his universe.

Don’t touch me! You’re all the same.

He’d been five when he’d learned that entire being was nothing but darkness and destruction.

“…Kesh?” The gentlest whisper, followed by a soft touch to his arm. He jerked at the contact, his focus zeroing in on the Breeder before him. Concern mixed with her fear, her stupid, kind heart drawing her to him despite how all he wanted was to ruin her. Like his mother had been ruined.

“Stay away from me!” he snarled, recoiling from her.

Her innocent, blue eyes widened, but instead of obeying his command, she shifted up on her knees so she could lean further toward him.

“You’re crying.” It was a simple statement, the wonderment in her voice penetrating deep into his chest. She reached for him again, her delicate fingers trying to encircle his wrist like weighted shackles on his soul. As much as he wanted to put distance between them before his darkness consumed her, he found himself unable to move.

Before he could break through the stupor of her declaration, Georgia reached for his face with her free hand, smoothing away the tears from his cheek with a soft brush of her thumb. “What’s wrong?”

Every fiber of his being wanted to snarl at her, to tell her he wasn’t fucking crying—that the Prince of Demons didn’t cry. To make her pay for this weakness her presence forced out of him.

But her touch on his skin flooded his body with longing. And deep, dark, soul-crushing despair.

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. He could only feel.

Deep, ugly sobs tore through his body, forced up from so deep, horror and bile singed his taste buds. There was no stopping it, no willing it away. Pain flooded out of him, visceral and raw, and there was nothing he could do to hide it from the woman who’d unwittingly ripped him open by her mere existence.

Slim arms wrapped around his body, embracing him in softness and warmth. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

She was hugging him. The sensation was so absurd, so violatingly intimate, it should have made him push her away on instinct. Instead, his arms wound around her body of their own accord, pulling her tighter to his chest as he buried his face in her dark hair.

Stars. Oh, fucking stars. He inhaled shakily, his sobs quieting as her scent filled his nostrils. The horrible ache in his chest eased with every breath, comfort vibrating through his nerve endings as she gently stroked his back and… hummed.

Another flash of his mother made him shudder in Georgia’s embrace. She’d hugged him, too. Twice. When he was very little. But she’d been the one to cry, then, and there had been no soothing touches and no soft humming, either. And when he’d tried to hug her back, she’d pushed him away.

He clutched harder at the small Breeder in his arms, desperation born from weakness making him ensure she couldn’t push him away, too.

Georgia only hugged him tighter in response.

It took a long while for his roiling emotions to ebb enough for him to soften his grip on her, finally remembering how fragile she was. If he’d bruised her with his need…

She pulled her head back from him as he released her, blue eyes searching his. “Are you okay?”

He nodded once, too emotionally drained to feel the embarrassment and horror he knew should fill him after this pathetic display of vulnerability. The Prince of Demons—crying. In the arms of a Breeder under his care, no less. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” She reached up and brushed her fingers over his brow ridge, achingly gently. He didn’t have the strength to pull away. “Tell me what happened just now.”

“I can’t.” His voice came out like a broken whisper—so far from his usual gruffness he barely recognized it.

“You can,” she insisted. Permission, not a demand. “Whatever this is… I’ll listen. You shouldn’t carry something so painful alone.”

Kesh stared into her eyes. There was nothing but gentleness and empathy there. He was the monster who kept her from her family and loved ones, who’d killed in front of her. Had threatened her. And still… this fragile little human offered him only kindness, when she could so easily take his weakness and use it. Stars knew she had every right to.

“You remind me of my mother.” The words left his throat before he could stop them.

“What happened to her?”

His face twisted with pain, but before he could pull back, could protect the most vulnerable parts of himself, she cupped his cheek and the warmth of her spread through his nervous system like the morning sun.

“She killed herself.” He fixed her with his gaze; only her blue eyes locked with his made the words possible to say. “She was… She never took to my father, or her role as a Breeder. She had a human family before she was taken. A husband and an infant daughter. But she was captured. Put to auction. My father, who wanted offspring, purchased her. She hated him. Hated the violations and how the ring made her beg for it.” He paused, his voice softening. “And she hated me and my brother, when we came along.

“My father… I think he tried his best. But his best still had her caged in a life she didn’t want, and she longed for her real family, begged for them… And eventually, she grew desperate enough to threaten.”

“What did she threaten?” Georgia asked softly when he trailed off.

The memory still ached, even if it’d since been buried by pain far more all-encompassing. He exhaled, pushing on. “To kill me and Kain. She told him if he didn’t let her go back to her real family, she would kill his sons. His. Not theirs. Not hers. I hadn’t realized until then that she didn’t see us as her children.”

Georgia blinked. “She… she said that in front of you? How old were you?”

“Five.” He sighed softly. “By that point she’d been my father’s prisoner for ten years. There wasn’t much of her spirit left. I think she tried to love my brother and me. When we were very little. But though we looked human to her, thanks to her blinding mark… there was no hiding the fact that we were my father’s spawn.”

“What happened then? After she threatened your life?”

Her question was as gentle as her touch, but it still cut through his chest like a molten knife. But there was no putting the genie back in the bottle, not now.

“My father did what he had to—a threat to his heirs was the one thing he couldn’t let slide. He twisted her ring. Forced her to submit to ease the torment. Took her until the ring was sated, and she sobbed for mercy. And then he did it again. And again. And again. Until her mind snapped, and she finally became docile.” His voice was devoid of emotion, numbness spreading through his veins to allow him to recall the events that had ruined his family.

The horror he couldn’t feel reflected back at him from Georgia’s blue eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

“She slit her wrists the second she was left alone,” he continued, a grimace that looked like a smile but wasn’t pulling at his lips. “My dad thought he’d finally tamed her. He thought he’d made her into the mate and mother she was always meant to be. All he did was break the final shreds of her spirit.”

The Breeder stared up at him in silence for several long moments, glistening tears shining from her lashes. Finally, she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him tight, like she had while he’d cried. Her cheek pressed into his chest, warm and wet against his scales. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, sorrow choking her words.

“You have such a tender heart,” he murmured, staring down at the little female clutching him as if she wanted to absorb the pain from his body into her own. For once, there was no venom in the words, only mild bewilderment. “How… how can you feel anything but revulsion?”

“Humans are complicated that way,” she said, her voice muffled by his chest. “I can be revolted at what your father did, and still ache for the trauma you went through. Demon or not, that’s… No child should see what you did.”

“I am my father’s son. What horrors he has committed, I am more than capable of inflicting as well. You had no misgivings about my nature moments ago.” He didn’t understand the clenching in his gut as he spoke, nor why he bothered. Her embrace felt so good—like a balm, like a beacon of light in the darkness. He didn’t want her to let go, not now, not ever. He needed this, needed her. But if she realized what he truly was, what he was capable of, she wouldn’t hold him like this. She couldn’t.

“You’re a demon; a monster,” she said, and it shouldn’t have hurt—it was a truth that had never concerned him before—but in this vulnerable moment, in Georgia’s soft voice, it stung like a dagger wound. His muscles stiffened, but before he could put distance between them, she continued, “But that doesn’t mean you’re evil, does it?” She peered up at him, searching his eyes for the answer. “You are capable of love and loyalty to your family. You hurt for the loss of your mother. And… you can’t bring yourself to violate me, no matter how often you threaten it. You could never do that to a woman—not with what happened to your mother. Not with how deep that wound still is.”

“I’ve killed plenty of women,” he said, the admission a warning growl, anger at how desperately he wanted her to not think him evil, despite what he knew to be true rumbling through his chest. “Some have died when I lost control of my base desires and fucked them, despite knowing what my magic would do to them. My mother’s death does not make me noble, Georgia.”

“No,” she said, still looking into his eyes, still holding him. “It doesn’t. But… it has given you empathy, I think. And whatever else you are, so long as you have the ability to feel for someone else… you can’t be truly evil.”

He chuffed through his nose, the sound meant to be derisive, but it came out soft. “What does it matter to you if I am evil or not? You still despise my very nature—and you will still be made to surrender to a lifetime subjugated to my kind.”

She smiled. It was barely more than a weak twitch of her lips, but it still lit up her face and penetrated through his ribcage. “Perhaps. But subjugation to a demon who won’t violate and abuse me is infinitely less terrifying than the alternative.”

“I won’t be the one to mate you, Georgia. It will be one of my men.” He had known this from the moment she was brought into his throne room, trembling and weak. There was no reason for lead to sink heavily into his gut as he reminded them both of this indisputable fact.

“No, it won’t be you. But you won’t give me to someone who will hurt me, either. And who knows? Maybe he will even be capable of love.” She looked at him with that soft smile, the expression in her pretty eyes suggesting her future mate’s potential to love her should somehow be a comfort to them both.

It wasn’t.

24

Georgia

Georgia had always tried to stay as far away from the demons she saw as she could. Regardless, she’d been painfully aware of their dark nature and tendency toward violence and degradation. Her P.E. teacher, with the horns and the tendency toward sadistic, public humiliation, was a mild example of what she knew them capable of.

To now be faced with the reality that they could feel remorse? Empathy? It was… startling.

She looked up at the big monster on the bed with her, his demonic features softened with remnants of grief. Once upon a time, he’d been a little kid who loved his mom. And he’d lost her in the worst way imaginable. She’d never thought she could feel sorrow for a demon’s misfortune, but her gut still clenched from the raw pain he’d been unable to hide from her.

And still… it wasn’t just empathy for his loss that filled her. It was staggering relief, too. She had sold herself to the monsters to save Larry, and she’d expected the price for her brother’s life to be a lifetime of misery. But if they were capable of love… Of tears… Then there was a chance, however small, that her future might not be as grim as she’d dreaded since signing Lewin’s contract.

Even if she would still need to do some things she’d rather not.

“We should continue.” She held out a hand, her fingers wrapping around Kesh’s clawed digits when he reached for her on autopilot.

“Continue?” he repeated, eye ridges rising in question at her sudden change of topic.

“You look exhausted. Let me… Let me nourish you. Our bargain…” She trailed off, feeling guilty for reiterating how she was offering him comfort purely to fulfill her end of their arrangement.

Kesh shook his head, a humorless smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “No.” He drew a deep breath, releasing her hand as he climbed off the bed. “You’ve given enough. Our bargain is fulfilled, little Breeder. Get some rest. I’ll have to mark you tomorrow, but for now… Just rest.”

“Wait.”

They both froze at the sound of her soft plea. She stared up at him, her pulse picking up. Was she really going to offer…? But one look up into his black eyes, still softer than she’d ever known they could be, and the nervous energy fizzing along her spine dispersed to a tolerable prickle.

“Wait,” she repeated, a little more strength to her voice this time. “You need… Please. Let me take care of you.”

He frowned, the expression severe on his harrowing features, but for the first time it didn’t cause unease to clench at her esophagus. For a long moment, silence stretched between them. Then he exhaled a shaky breath and knelt back down on the bed.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded, teeth digging into her lower lip as she fought the shyness threatening to rise. He’d had his face between her thighs three times already. With a beast like the demon prince, there was no room for bashfulness.

Which was perhaps the one good thing about him; the second she nodded her consent, there was no awkwardness nor hesitation—nothing but hunger in his eyes as he moved forward and captured her mouth in his.

“Mm-h.” He swallowed her surprised moan as scorching heat traveled from his kiss all the way down her chest and stomach to center right in her clit with a throb of excitement. Large, clawed hands cupped the back of her head and her lower back as he eased her down on the bed without ever breaking the kiss.

Her legs parted for balance, and he settled down between them as if he belonged there, forcing a stretch along her inner thighs as she spread to embrace his wide body. Heat bloomed everywhere his scaled skin grated roughly against hers, but that was nothing compared to the hard press on the full length of her abdomen as he put his weight on her and his absurd cock pressed down.

A glimmer of fear tried to worm its way to her brain, but before her adrenaline could respond, Kesh’s tongue plunged into her mouth, and anxiety was replaced with another rush of heat.

Gods, why did it feel so good? The demon’s kiss was edged with gasoline and lit matches—danger distilled into scent. But every cell in her body bloomed awake, heat curling in her abdomen for every stroke of his tongue over hers.

She’d never been kissed like this; like nothing else mattered to this male than the taste of her. He groaned into her mouth, filling her airways with his demonic scent and her head with the pounding of her own blood. Every part of her lit up, as if her very biology was tuned to his need on a primal level.

Of their own accord, Georgia’s arms wrapped around his wide torso as she let herself melt into him.

“Blackened stars,” he groaned, pulling back from her lips to place scorching kisses along her jaw, down the column of her throat. The heat in her blood turned to champagne fizz with every press of his lips against her skin, inching lower and lower. When he kissed his way down her breastbone, she didn’t think; moaning with need she hadn’t known she possessed before the first night in his bed, she speared her fingers through his hair and pulled him to one achingly tight nipple.

Kesh obeyed her unspoken demand. Warm, wet heat closed around the needy little bud, the flick of a tongue following. When he sucked, her groan of pleasure mixed with his.

“More!” The demand rasped out of her throat, pulled by the aching throb in her clit for every suck on her nipples. Shit, he made her feel so fucking needy. Like every nerve in her body was strung too tight, and the only way to relief was through him. “Please, Kesh, I need—oooh!”

Her desperate cry cut off on a moan when he pushed one large hand between them, thumb landing on her ringed clit as he turned his mouth to her other breast. Deep, rhythmic suckles echoed down the length of her body and back up her spine with every strum over her center of nerves, until there was nothing left but wet, clenching need. Without thought, she grasped onto his horns and pushed, trying to guide his mouth downward.

“I love how desperate you are for me,” he rasped against her, scorching lips nipping at the skin covering her belly as he let her steer his head down. When he finally reached her pussy, his breath hitched, and a growl rumbled out of his throat. “Fuck, you smell so fucking good. Do you want to come? Is that why that needy little pussy is soaking for me, hmm? You want me to feast on your helpless little clit?”

Georgia nodded frantically, giving his horns a hard tug to try and guide him down to her throbbing clit. “Yes, yes, please, that! I need that!”

Snarling, he roughly parted her labia and, without further warning, buried his mouth in her pussy.

“Ah!” Her cry as shocks of sensations rocked through her pelvis and down her thighs was overlaid by his rich growl.

“Fuck!”

Feast, he’d said. It was exactly what he did. His hungry mouth moved against her spread pussy, lips sliding over wet flesh and encircling her throbbing clit. When he began to suck, she saw stars.

“Fuck, goddamn, yes! Don’t stop, don’t stop!” Her frantic cries were breathy and desperate as she clung to his horns and rode his face with wild abandon. All sense of modesty and fear wiped away by the all-consuming need to come for him. It took only moments before the fire ate through her last resistance, and her climax thundered through her.

“Kesh!” His name spilled from her lips, her hands yanking his face deeper into her pussy by her grip on his horns as her thighs clamped shut around his neck. “Mmmhyes!”

He groaned in response, lips easing off her spent clit as he kissed his way down her seam to her entrance. Greedy, wet sounds followed as he licked up the liquid proof of her orgasm.

Georgia lay in a haze of fading pleasure, fingers softening on his horns. Relaxation flooded her muscles in a lazy wave, allowing him to easily lap up her energy as he drank her. It was a curious sensation, feeling the trickle of life essence leave her body. Calming. Pleasurable, even. She eased her thigh’s grip on his neck, but he wrapped his arms around them before they could slip off his shoulders and anchored his hands on her ass, keeping her legs wrapped around him.

He was such a juxtaposition. Georgia looked down at him through hooded lids—at the creature of nightmares who called her ‘Breeder’; a ruler among demons who was in the process of drinking her very life force… and felt only pleasurable calm, and a startling thread of affection. Every inch of him was monstrous—from the horns and scales, to his foul temper and murderous tendencies. But he’d let her see his vulnerable parts—and she would never be able to look at him like nothing but a monster again. Whatever else he was, he would always be the man who’d cried in her arms over the loss of his mother.

The creature who gave her pleasure beyond anything she’d known to be possible.

As if drawn by her thoughts, Kesh broke his mouth’s connection to her core, easing off with a reluctant groan, followed by several kisses to her pussy.

“You don’t need anymore energy? I think I have more to give—I’m not anywhere near as tired as last time.” Also, she wasn’t ready for the pleasure to end, or for his walls to come back up.

The prince gave a soft groan of reluctance, but raised back up with a final kiss to her swollen pussy. “Don’t tempt me, little one. I could feast on you for days.”

“That doesn’t sound like the worst way to spend time with a demon,” she quipped, earning her a throaty chuckle from the big male.

“I like you like this. Unafraid.” His voice was unexpectedly soft, and the way he looked at her then—black eyes full of adoration; worship… Her stomach tightened with a flutter, but her chest warmed and eased. No one had ever looked at her like that. Like she was the center of the universe.

“I like me like this, too,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off his. Unwilling to.

Kesh made a soft sound at the back of his throat and leaned in, as if pulled by a string. His lips crashed against hers, still fiery with need, but when his hands swept up to cup her face, it was with aching gentleness.

“I think… it’s your turn,” she gasped between his scalding kisses.

“My turn?” he rumbled, tongue flicking in between her lips to stroke against hers.

“To come.” She pulled away from his kiss and, drawing in a breath to find her courage, reached for the intimidating column of flesh she’d tried her best to ignore up until then.