Текст книги "Prince of Demons"

Автор книги: Nora Ash

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10

Kesh

There were many ways for demons to feed, few of them pleasant for the human providing the meal.

Kesh went over them all as he drove Georgia through the city to his private residence. He usually wasn’t too particular about how he extracted the human life force he needed to sustain himself, but he couldn’t exactly kill the girl to get his fix—which left out most of the more filling options.

I could terrorize her, he thought sourly as an image flickered for his mind’s eye. One of her tear-stricken face when she’d protected that worthless female. Why she would care about some random human she didn't know, one who clearly didn't care much about herself, he couldn't understand. And to care enough to take a stand… Against him. It irritated him to the bone.

He’d known the girl for a few hours, and twice in the span of that time, she’d sacrificed herself for the benefit of someone else. Disgusting.

I should make her think twice about throwing herself in harm's way for whatever pitiful human she comes across.

But as much as the thought of punishing her for her ridiculous inclination toward martyrdom appealed to him, realism shuddered through his lungs for every breath he took that tasted like the bitter notes of her fear.

The scent of her terror had been pulling at his instincts to soothe and protect since the abandoned building—especially frustrating since he was well aware her horror was about him, and any attempt at soothing it would only be met with more fear. He wouldn’t be able to feed from her terror if every cell in his body was aching to calm her.

When he pulled up in front of his high-rise, he was still no closer to deciding how he would replenish his strength, but his circling thoughts changed course at the sight of the two guards stationed outside the entrance.

Shit.

“Don’t so much as breathe until we’re inside,” he growled quietly over his shoulder before he switched off the ignition and got off the bike, pulling the girl in close against his body in the process. The smell of her fear intensified, but hopefully his own scent would drown out hers. If she’d been awakened, he would have no hope of his men being oblivious to the lush aroma of a Breeder, but until he got her ringed and marked, she would be much more difficult to clock.

Fortunate, since he wasn’t ready to deal with the distraction her presence in his domain would cause, once his underlings knew a mate was in the process of being prepared.

“All is quiet, Your Highness,” one of the guards—Greyer—greeted him. “No callers through the night.”

Kesh nodded. “Good. Make sure no one disturbs me today. I don’t care how big of a contract dispute they have. I don’t even care if the Europeans are on my doorstep knocking, you got it? No disturbances.”

The other guard slanted a look at Georgia, half-hidden in Kesh’s armpit, and gave him a smirk. “Of course. I take it she is why Sefron came by with food a few hours ago? It’s been a while—think feeding her will get her through alive?”

“Don’t worry about her, Leopold,” Kesh growled, the warning in his voice clear enough for his guard’s smirk to whither. “You will tell no one of her presence here.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Greyer said, his voice infinitely more formal than his partner’s. Kesh had a vague thought that he really should make sure Leopold learned better manners too, but Georgia’s increased trembling against him had his focus returning to her before he could make good on the notion.

Probably the word ‘alive’ had been too much for the Breeder’s already frayed nerves.

With a final glare at his underlings, Kesh strode to the door, pulling Georgia with him. Her body was stiff against his, the scent of her fear burning the back of his throat, but he kept her secure in his grip until they were inside the empty, marble-clad lobby and the door closed shut behind them. Only then did he release her shoulders.

Georgia immediately stumbled several steps away from him. “Alive?” she hissed, confirming his assumptions.

“Our deal is that I don’t harm you,” he sighed, flicking two fingers at her in the direction of the elevator.

Despite the disgust on her face, she obeyed his unspoken command. “But the other women you drag home? You kill them when you’re done raping them?”

Kesh arched his eye-ridges at her as he followed her in the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. “I rape them, do I?”

Red splotches appeared on her too-pale cheeks. “I assume the Prince of Demons doesn’t haul girls into his lair to play chess.”

Annoyance burned through his already paper-thin patience, and he leaned in over her, bracing an arm above her head to glare down at her. “The females I bring home see my human disguise, Breeder. They are more than willing.”

His looming nearness did nothing to still her quivering, but she jutted out her chin in defiance. “You are a demon. I know what your kind does to women.”

He wasn’t sure why he bothered arguing. He really shouldn’t give a shit that she thought him a rapist. With a dark glare at her, he pushed off the wall and shifted his focus to the display showing the incline in floors. She could believe what she wanted—he didn’t need her to trust him. Not with the deal they’d made. All he needed was for her to obey his command to pick a mate, once he had prepared her with a blinding mark and selected a list of appropriate males she could choose from.

But first, he needed to fucking eat. Somehow. Why had he caved when she’d begged for him to take her energy instead? He needed more than he could take without harming whatever human he got his fix from, and the Breeder already looked like she was about to keel over.

Oh, right, yes. She’d cried.

When the elevator doors dinged open, Kesh grabbed her by the arm and pulled her through to his front door. She didn’t object, but her tremor at his touch transferred up through his arm and into his chest. He stopped short on the threshold.

Sefron had been busy.

Kesh grimaced as the stench of the multiple bouquets of red roses littering every surface within view of the front door hit his nostrils. Growling a low curse, he ignored the floral assault on his otherwise sparse interior and continued through to the open-plan living space where the rarely used kitchen island was laden with trays upon trays of food. There were platters of fruit—three different kinds of melon, berries in all shades of red and purple, and bananas arranged upright in between them in obvious phallic reference. Oysters dripped with lemon and decorated with caviar, smoked salmon and pots of clotted cheese next to rolls of bread and seeded bagels, slices of beef, dripping butter and arranged on top of green leaves. And, at the end of the display, a three-layer chocolate cake decorated with dark frosting and glossy cherries. Kesh wasn’t all that familiar with how much a human woman needed to sustain herself, but as far as he could tell, it looked… acceptable.

By his side, Georgia’s eyes widened as she took in the offerings. “Are you… Are you going to share me?”

“Share you?” he growled, irritation still fizzing in his veins. “If I can get enough energy from you to make it through the day, it’ll be a fucking miracle. If I shared you, you’d die. Now eat.”

Her mouth opened and closed once, something like relief flickering over her strained features before she looked back at the food, eyebrows rising. “So… no one else is coming? All this food… You had this prepared just for us?”

“For you. I don’t care for human food.” He released her arm and sank onto one of the bar stools by the island so he could rest his elbows on the counter.

“Then what do you—Oh.” Her voice died off before she could finish the question, her skin turning impossibly paler. “Right. You eat us. How could I forget.”

Kesh rolled his eyes at the tremor in her voice, even while his gut tightened with the ridiculous urge to coo at her until it went away. “Just fucking eat, Breeder. You need sustenance before I can take any energy from you. Unless you’ve changed your mind? I can easily go back for my original meal.”

“No. Please. I haven’t changed my mind,” she croaked, quickly stumbling onto the stool next to him.

He watched her with an irritated scowl as she began to pluck first pieces of fruit, then a roll of bread, layering it with a thin slice of fish. She smelled like fear again, and the sweat, blood, and shit from where she’d knelt on the stained bathroom floor to stop him from killing the other woman.

She was terrified of him, and still, she obeyed his command at the threat to this nameless, faceless human who wouldn’t have been missed by another soul. What a pointless self-sacrifice.

Disgusting.

“That’s not enough.” Kesh narrowed his eyes at the bread roll halfway to the Breeder’s mouth. He may not know much about human nutrition, but he did know that a woman about to provide a demon lord with energy needed more sustenance than that wafery piece of smoked salmon could offer.

“What?” She froze, her arm spasming when he reached forward. But he didn’t touch her—only pushed the dish of yellow butter toward her with two fingers.

“You need more…” He flicked his wrist at the spread when the right word came to him, albeit belatedly. “Calories. Nutrients.”

She eyed him dubiously, but even though she looked like she wanted to argue, she held her tongue. Slowly, she put the roll down, picked off the fish and began spreading a thin layer of butter on the bread.

“More,” he demanded.

The Breeder huffed a breath through her nose. This time, her lips parted before she managed to rein in her protests, but a tightening of his eyes made her close them again.

“And more of that, too,” he said, when butter glistened thickly on top of the roll and she placed the fish on top of it again.

She didn’t look at him—just flattened her lips and picked up another slice of salmon.

“One more. And some of the… green stuff.” He pointed at the vegetation scattered around the tray of salmon. Out of all the variations of human food, plants seemed the least appealing to him. There was no blood and no killing involved, which made it even more uninteresting than whatever else her kind used to fill their bellies. However, he had a vague sense that it was necessary for their survival. Something-something crop-failures and starvation.

Georgia shot him a look out the corner of her eyes before she reached for the feathery foliage and a brightly colored slice of citrus. “Is it okay now?”

“It’ll do.”

She gave him another side-glance before carefully biting into the roll. He wasn’t prepared for the suction in his gut when her eyelids fluttered shut and an involuntary moan of pleasure brushed past the mouthful of food.

Stars above. Kesh clutched at the edge of the countertop, his eyes trained on the Breeder’s pink lips as she chewed and swallowed. Energy pulsed at the base of his spine, the urge to lick butter off the corner of her mouth as intense as it was bewildering.

“Again.” The gruffness in his voice wasn’t from anger this time, but Georgia jumped at the sound of it, her muscles twitching before she took another bite. She didn’t moan with pleasure at the taste like before, not that it did anything to stop the throbbing in his cock at the sight of her taking in nourishment. Nourishment he’d provided.

When she finished the roll, he didn’t wait for her to choose her next piece. He picked up three oysters, two slices of beef, and several pieces of cheese and put them on her plate. “Eat.”

She bit her lip, blunt teeth digging into the pillowy flesh for a hesitant second before she picked up one of the caviar-covered shells.

He nearly came when her tongue darted out to lick up the insides and a small hum escaped her at the taste of it.

Kesh didn’t let her finish what was on her plate this time—he chose bits and pieces from the spread and put them in front of her, his own hunger inflaming his desire to keep feeding the Breeder under his care.

But some forty minutes later, when she was halfway through a large slice of chocolate cake, and before she’d even tasted the deep-red cherries atop it, Georgia put down her fork with a groan.

“You stopped,” he said, the note of warning in his voice making the woman flinch.

“I’m full.”

“You’re not done.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You will eat what I have provided.”

Her eyes darted over the still mostly full platters of food in front of them, widening slightly. “You want me to eat all of…?” She barked a sharp sound—a laugh with more than an edge of hysteria. “Feeding me until I rupture was so not the way I thought you’d kill me.”

“I’m not going to harm you,” he growled, as irritated that he had to repeat himself on the matter as he was that it was true. If simply killing her had been an option, it would have been a far simpler solution to the problem her presence presented. “I’m nourishing you. So eat.”

The Breeder hid her face in her hands. She drew in a few shaky breaths and rubbed her fingertips against her forehead. “I’m full. If you force me to eat anymore, I’m going to be sick. Unless you plan on going full Seven, you have to let me stop.”

Kesh bared his teeth, frustration nearly drowning out the single note of worry at that word. Feeding her too much could make her sick? Why was that even a thing? A demon could be sated, sure, but sick from consuming too much nourishment? No. If they were this fragile, how humans had managed to overpopulate the planet was a fucking mystery.

“Fine.” It came out as a snarl he almost regretted when the Breeder jumped in response, and her already fear-heavy scent spiked in his nostrils. “Come.”

Georgia hesitated for several seconds, but when he held out an arm and gave her a pointed look, she seemed to finally remember the consequences of disobedience. She followed him out of the room without a word.

For a demon prince, Kesh didn’t have many indulgences. As the lord of his area, he had his pick of hunting grounds, and the taxes his not-so-loyal subjects paid for his patronage afforded him enough wealth to rival the deep coffers of European nobility. He’d never seen much appeal in hunting for sport, nor in most of the human luxuries his riches could buy. Except for maybe one thing.

His bedroom was large but sparsely decorated, because the focus of the room was the floor-to-ceiling wall of windows offering an undisturbed view of the city’s rooftops and the large expanse of the sky above. And in front of it, a large copper tub stood on a dais cut from white marble.

Sefron had set it up as requested and added several sprinkles of pink rose petals and a circle of candles that had long since burned down.

Kesh smothered an eyeroll and crossed the floor to dip a finger into the tub. Cold. Great. Just another wonderful consequence of being forced to take a several-hours detour to that cursed hospital.

He eyed the Breeder, who seemed too transfixed by his large bed to notice his attention, and weighed his options. She smelled like sweat and fear and hospital—scents he usually didn’t mind in a meal—but on her, it was messing with his stupid instincts to the point that he might start fucking cooing at her again at any moment.

However, his energy was so low, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out without eating, and he still wasn’t entirely sure how he’d go about extracting energy from her without permanently harming her. He’d more or less decided on feeding off her negative emotions—something he knew would barely do as a snack on the best of days—and if he waited for as long as it’d take to refill the large tub and bathe the woman, he wouldn’t be able to guarantee that he’d be able to stop in time.

Fuck. He’d just have to count himself lucky that if he did end up cooing like a moron, none of his underlings were around to witness it.

Kesh drew in a deep breath, steeling his resolve before he turned fully around to face the Breeder, mouth partway open to tell her she’d have to wait until after he fed to get clean. Only no sound managed to escape his suddenly desert-dry throat.

On the crisp linen sheets covering his large bed lay a dirty, crumbled shirt and a plain cotton bra, both of which had been covering the Breeder only moments ago. Now, though, she was bare from the waist up, peachy pink nipples tight in the cool air of his bedroom and creamy skin glowing in the sun shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

What…. the shit?

Before he managed more than a grunt of surprise, Georgia hooked her thumbs in her trousers and pushed, letting the fabric drop to the floor.

There wasn’t a power in the universe great enough to force his gaze from the magnetic pull of that hallowed triangle of dark hair between her tightly clasped thighs.

“Okay.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “I’m… I’m ready.”

11

Kesh

Kesh swallowed thickly, attempting to get his too-thick tongue to shape words—any words—but the distraction of her bared vulva was making it hard to think. The hair there was darker than the silky strands on her head, and lush enough to hide the valley below.

He moved without thought, blind urgency driving him toward her. He wasn’t aware he’d crossed the floor until Georgia’s sharp inhale finally broke the spell.

He flicked his eyes from her pussy to her face, frowning at the look on her pretty features. The blood had drained from her skin, and her eyes widened with the same terror he smelled in her scent—but the set of her jaw was pure, steely resolve.

Drawing in a deep breath, the girl backed up a step until the edge of his bed hit the backs of her knees. She kept her gaze locked on his as she climbed onto the mattress—and spread her legs.

The rushing of blood in his ears drowned out any and all sound for several seconds.

“What are you doing?” It came out like a growl.

“You need… to eat. Right? This is how…?” A deep blush spread from her chest up her neck to her cheeks in scarlet blotches, and she closed her thighs partway. “Oh, God, is this not… is this not what you meant? I’m so sorry, I⁠—”

He gave her a stare laced with enough darkness to silence her mid-sentence.

She thought he intended to take his nourishment from her cunt.

He wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with that approach to energy extraction, though usually when he was so desperate for release he sought out human women for company, he didn’t waste time feeding on them. He wasn’t an incubus—he could get much more satisfying meals with more… bloody methods.

However, over the years, a few women had left his bed weakened from more than multiple orgasms. And, when his hunger had been too great to control, some hadn’t left at all.

But what he’d said to her in the elevator was true: though he’d happily slaughter her entire species if the need arose, taking a female against her will? Never.

The thought of forcing a scared Breeder under his care to spread her thighs hadn’t so much as crossed his mind.

His dick gave an achy throb, urging him to release whatever flimsy morals had made him ignore the most obvious of solutions. She had offered herself in exchange for the worthless, faceless human she’d made him spare, and she’d stripped naked, climbed on his bed and opened her legs for him unprompted. She was hardly unwilling. At least not in the strictest sense of the word.

He let his gaze slide from her pussy up her body, lingering on her breasts for a heartbeat before he finally met her eyes again. “I can feed from you there.”

“Oh.” She looked like she was going to say something else, but only her slightly panting breath escaped her parted lips.

Kesh drew a long, slow inhalation, focusing his lust-hazed mind. She’d offered her cunt willingly, and taking her energy from there was about the only way he wouldn’t hurt her in the process—but he wasn’t oblivious to the heavy throb in his eager cock, nor what would happen if he lost control during this particular meal.

She was a Breeder—every pheromone in her cursed body was crafted to lure him in, and if he surrendered to that pull… She would die. Horrifically. But it was either this or somehow extract her energy while knowingly hurting her. How was he supposed to feed on her terror when his entire body ached to soothe her?

He bared his teeth, frustration making his skin itch, and looked back up at her.

Her blue eyes were wide with fear, yet that willful tilt to her chin remained.

He would never be able to hurt her.

The knowledge lodged itself firmly in his skull, solidifying with his every breath as he stared into her scared eyes. Even now, starving and so hard he barely had enough blood supply left to think, he knew into the marrow of his bone that—with this woman?—he would break himself into atoms to avoid causing her harm. Fuck.

“Close your eyes.” His attempt at softness died on the gravel in his throat.

Georgia darted a startled look at him, pink lips parting in what was likely going to be a ‘why?’ But one glance at his demonic features, and the Breeder seemed to clock on.

“Okay.” Her trembling whisper went straight to his dick, and he gritted his teeth around a deep breath when she closed her eyes and laid her head back on the pillow. Surrendering to him.

She was so… vulnerable. Naked and scared, with lines of exhaustion drawn on her pale features.

He pushed down the rush of possessiveness bubbling up from his gut in response, forcing his mind to clear of the stupid instincts clamoring up from the depths of his primordial makeup. Right now, she was a meal—nothing more.

The weight of his knee on the mattress made her suck in a superficial breath, and when he climbed all the way up and rested a hand on each side of her shoulders, she stopped breathing all together.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he heard himself say. “And when you wake up again, all will be well. Okay?”

A delicate frown marred her forehead, and he didn’t have to breathe in her scent to know that, after seeing how he went about feeding earlier that morning, after knowing exactly what he was, she didn’t believe his reassurances.

She still managed to force out a nearly inaudible, “Okay.”

Kesh kept his gaze firmly on her face as he shifted on the bed, the graze of a peaked nipple against his forearm enough of a reminder that he needed his full focus to get them through this with her life and his dignity still intact. She smelled… too good, and even a featherlight brush of her skin against his sent shockwaves of need through his exhausted body.

Focusing on keeping his breaths slow and even, he knelt back up on the bed and let his hand slide up one of her legs. She stiffened at his touch, but didn’t resist when he grabbed her by the back of her knee and spread her open.

“Blackened stars!” He was only half aware of the snarled outburst, hands clamping onto the Breeder’s thighs in response to her small squeak at the threatening sound.

How? How did she smell like this? His entire being was alight with the scent of her.

Dazed, he slid off the bed and pulled her to the end of it in the same motion, snarling a warning when she tried to resist his hands spreading her thighs wider. She thought to deny him? Sought to cut him off from the source of everything there was? No.

Without preamble, Kesh buried his face in her pussy and inhaled.

Heady musk so intense he could barely take it rolled over his tongue and down his throat. Eyes clenched against the onslaught to his senses, he slipped his hands from her thighs to her soft labia and spread her open, pressed his nose against her warm flesh and breathed her in again. And again. Every mouthful of her scent shot lightning through his veins, almost painful in its blissful addictiveness.

He opened his mouth on instinct, driven by the hard need for more, and pushed his tongue between her soft folds.

Heady, tangy flavor filled his mouth and pulled a groan from deep in his chest. If he’d thought her scent was addictive, the taste of her nearly short-circuited his already flagging brain.

He sought the source of it on instinct alone and teased his tongue around her tight and reluctant entrance. She gave him a few hesitant drops of her essence, but it was far from enough. He wanted to bathe in her—drink her up until she had no more left to give.

Her flesh parted more willingly as he moved up her pussy, seeking the center of her pleasure.

“Shit!” The Breeder’s gasped cry came the second his lips brushed her clit. She jumped and tensed her thighs, but he easily kept her spread open with the bulk of his arms.

What was that?

Frowning, Kesh flicked his tongue over her clit, ignoring Georgia’s mewl of protest. No. Surely it couldn’t be?

He jerked his head back and swallowed a curse. Between her parted folds, a band of gleaming metal encircled her small nub.

“Someone… Someone ringed you?” Anger throbbed through his heated blood, forcing enough of his focus from his desperate need that he managed to pull his gaze from her pussy to her face. Her unmarred face.

A Breeder’s ring, meant to help her future mate secure her willingness until she settled into her new life by his side, was always given to a woman at the same time as her blinding mark. Always. The implication that Georgia had hers while still retaining her ability to see their true forms... Someone had had her in their grasp, had known what she was… and they had inflicted terror upon her. Purposely.

The fog of lust waned, replace by his fury. He pulled further back, darkened gaze sweeping over the Breeder’s prone form. She might be tall for a human woman, but compared to his massive bulk, she was only slight. Delicate.

It would be so very easy to simply… break her.

He’d had human women in his bed before, but they’d been thrumming with lust for him, blind to his true form and eager for pleasure.

Georgia stared at him with nothing but fear in her round eyes.

“I can’t do this.” He moved his hands from the softness between her legs and pushed off the bed, rising to his feet.

“W-what do you mean?” she croaked, scrambling to push up on her elbows.

For a moment, his vision blurred at the edges. Fuck, he needed to feed. He hadn’t been this drained in years.

Kesh flicked a couple of fingers in the direction of her naked body before he turned, intent on the exit. “Deal’s off. Go to sleep. The building is secure, and I will be back soon.”

“Wait.” Her voice rang through the room, surprising him with its strength.

He looked at her over his shoulder, eye-ridges raising with impatience. “What?”

“Don’t go. Please. Please, don’t.” She knelt up on the bed, chin wobbling once before she steeled her jaw.

“I have to eat.” It came out as a snarl. “Now.”

“Take what you need from me,” she begged. “I don’t understand what happened. Please, you promised. Don’t hurt anyone. Feed from me.”

He bared his teeth, fury pounding in his temples. Fury that he wasn’t ignoring her, fury that he wasn’t already out the door in search of a meal. Fucking Breeders and their sorcery.

“I would be hurting you,” he snarled.

“No. No, you wouldn’t.” She forced her lips to quirk up—not quite into a smile, but not a grimace either. “You promised you wouldn’t, and I… I believe you. Please. Take it from me. Not… Not someone innocent.”

He scoffed at the ridiculousness in her statement. “Someone innocent? You think that worthless piece of scum you saved is innocent? As compared to who, you? Tell me, Breeder, who have you hurt to get your next high? Who have you stolen from, beaten up, killed for your own gain?”

She blinked, the idea that every human didn’t possess a base level of goodness clearly new to her. New, and unacceptable. “I… It doesn’t matter, okay? I am… willing. And I will survive. They won’t. Right?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. She took his silence as the confirmation it was.

Swallowing, she held out a trembling hand. “Come back. Please.”

She might as well have jerked on a chain wrapped tight around his throat. He wasn’t fully aware of having crossed the bedroom floor to her, until her soft hand wrapped around his forearm, forcing crackles of sensations along his skin despite the fabric covering it.

“You won’t hurt me,” she said again, more conviction in her voice this time. A blush crept up her throat and heated her cheeks, and she lowered her eyelashes. “And… it felt… nice. What you were doing. It won’t be like when… I was… was ringed. It’s okay. Please. Let me feed you, like you did for me.”

Some faraway part of him knew he should deny her—that he should find the will to resist her spell spoken in pleading tones—but he didn’t have the strength. Perhaps if he’d been at full power, if his vision wasn’t dancing from the need to refuel, and her sweet scent didn’t linger on his tongue, he would have stood a chance.

Hazy images of butter glistening on her lips and her throat bobbing around morsels of food flickered for his mind’s eye. He reached for her without thought, wrapping one hand around her jaw and cheek in blind search of the feel of her.

Her breath stuttered in her throat, but she didn’t flinch away. Simply looked up at him with blue eyes more full of wariness than outright fear now. He didn’t have the brainpower left to ponder the change, not this time. He needed her energy. Now.

Her body yielded for his, allowing him to guide her to her back. There was no resistance in her thighs when he pushed them apart this time, only a tremble in her muscles as he slid to the floor at the end of the bed and used his thumbs to expose her ringed clit once more.

Her scent enveloped him as fully as before, sweeping away whatever lingering hesitance might have remained in his swiftly fogging mind.

Fuck, she smelled like… Woman, and sex, and life.

He groaned and leaned in, sucking her clit between his lips on instinct alone.

Georgia hissed at the contact, her thighs clamping around his head in instinctive protest.

Too sensitive. He eased off, kissing the soft skin around the center of her nerves instead, until her thighs slowly relaxed again. The hood of her clit had been pushed back with the fastening of the ring, leaving her pearl permanently exposed. He’d never given much thought to how a Breeding ring affected a woman when it wasn’t activated, but the sound of Georgia’s shallow breaths and the tremble in her muscles at his proximity to her unprotected nub made a thread of regret worm through his chest. Even without twisting the wicked device and inflicting its dark magic on her, her pleasure would always be forced to some degree.