He reached out to push her glass to her lips. “Yeah, I know. The big fucker, fierce looking warlord with the war braids. The word is that he forced you into marrying him.” He shrugged, took a sip.
“Well, not exactly, he-”
“I believe it. The guy is a ferocious brute. Listen,” he crept in close to her and whispered in her ear, “what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, huh? We can still be…friends,” his gaze slid down the top of her blouse as he set a hand around her waist.
Sveti tried to jerk from his hand with an exclamation of protest, “No, listen, please, I told you, I am married, I can’t, here please take this wine, I need to go!” She was appalled that this man would ignore the fact that she was married, and disregard her objections.
“Aw sugar,” he nuzzled his lips in her hair, near her ear, “come on, he won’t know, you said he was at a meeting, let’s have a little fun,” he squeezed her waist pulling her against him.
Sveti was getting mad, how dare he ignore her wishes, but she didn’t want to cause a scene. She said through clenched teeth, “Charlie, let go of me right this minute and take this wine-”
Moving his head seeking her lips, Charlie cajoled, “Oh come on, honey, he’ll never know, let’s-”
“You heard my wife, get your motherfucking hands off her or you will lose them.”
His voice such a low chilling growl, Sveti felt ice flow over her. Beside her, Charlie stiffened, he dropped his arm, his body instantly shaking.
Dev snatched up her hand, held it in front of Charlie and fingered her wedding band. The voice of a dragon he snarled, “You see this you fucking asshole? She’s taken. Claimed. Married. To me.” He leaned into poor Charlie’s stark white face, clutched his shirt in his tough fist and pulled him up on his toes.
The enraged warlord’s eyes as blinding as a blizzard, his voice deep and harsh with his wrath, “You get the fuck out of here before I rip your head off and shove it up your ass. I ever see you near, talking to, touching my wife again, I will ignore her compassionate pleas and fucking kill you where you stand. You understand me?”
He released Charlie with a shove, the man staggered backwards, just barely stopped himself from falling down.
Charlie’s body shook like a leaf in a storm. Gawking at the flames that sparked up around Devilos, he stammered, “Y- y- y-” at the incensed warrior.
“Fucking move it before I disregard my wife’s desire that I don’t remove your head from your body.” Before he finished his sentence, Charlie was a blur. Dev turned his furious, piercing white gaze to Sveti. It fell to the drink in her hand.
“Um, Devilos, I-”
“A married woman does not accept drinks from men in bars.” He snatched it out of her hands and slammed it on the bar uncaring half the contents spilled.
“But, I didn’t, I- I tried to say no, he shoved it right in my hands, Devilos-”
A voice from behind them said, “Prințesă Ritrova?”
The couple looked to the person joining them.
Dev’s voice as a deadly rattler about to strike, he thundered, “She is Prințesă Dravidian. What the fuck,” he turned to Sveti snarling, “do I have to tattoo it on your forehead?”
The beast was wavering around his body, the horns thickened as his ears grew sharper, his height increased, the broad bulk of his chest and shoulders was growing bigger about to split the long-sleeved dark blue shirt. His lids drew down so low the penetrating white was a mere streak of lightning.
The anger rolled off him so hot Sveti felt singed by it, she cringed at the sparks of fire that burst in crackling snaps of flames around them.
The man interrupting them turned as white as Dev’s eyes. “I- uh, I’m s- sorry, sir, I apologize, I saw her alone then with another man and now you, uh,” he slid a knuckle under his collar and tugged to get the stammer out. “I, that is, I thought she was alone, and if she turned you two guys down I might have a chance-”
“Sir,” Sveti warned, “you should leave, now, quickly,” her eyes slew to her livid husband.
Dev was fighting to keep the beast down but it looked like vapor was steaming out of his head with the effort, his face setting hard and coarse like dark cement in his fury.
Near the door she caught sight of one of his lieutenant guards, Dev must have sent him to search for her earlier when he realized she’d left the suite. Undoubtedly he had been there most of the time she was inside playing.
“Uh, yes, I see that,” the man shook his words out, blanching further at the warlord clearly struggling to keep from lashing out at him. “I- I work in transmissions, they were trying to get ahold of you, Prințesă, there’s a message for you-”
“You have one second to get the fuck out of here,” Dev growled so base he sounded like a rabid animal.
“Wait,” Sveti put her hand on Dev’s arm. She said to the man, “What message? From who?”
The man’s eyes darted from Sveti to Dev.
The outline of the beast hovered around him growing larger and more solid by the second.
The man sputtered quickly, “Uh, there’s a- a Ryen, uh, Rembrandt, Ryen Rembrandt, a message, you have no wrist-cell for Transmissions to contact you. You have to call them to-”
Dev grabbed up Sveti’s arm and ushered her away from the frightened man who was about to piss his pants, led her across the room, people moved out of his way like he was a typhoon roaring through, and out the door.
He was moving down the corridor so fast in his blistering rage Sveti had to hurry to keep up or he’d be dragging her.
“Devilos, please, slow down, I can’t keep up with you.” She tugged at her arm but he held her like a vice. “Please, I haven’t done anything wrong and I resent you treating me like this!”
He stabbed the button on the elevator, swung furious eyes at her. “You did, you trotted around like a fucking whore, accepting drinks from strange men in bars, and now, now,” he took a deep gritty breath, his fingers tightened around her arm.
“Your fucking boyfriend is calling you. That’s a bunch of shit, Svetiessa, a fucking bunch of shit. I won’t fucking stand for it. You are my wife.”
The door pinged and opened, he practically shoved her inside. She stumbled into the car, he reflexively grabbed her arm to hold her steady.
Inside, a riled Sveti snatched her arm from his grasp. “No,” she said with heat, her eyes narrowed irately at him, “I won’t stand for it. I will not be treated this way. Your jealousy is out of control, I will not be cursed at like that or treated like-”
“A whore?” He pushed her up against the wall of the elevator, crowded her with his hard body.
Furious, Sveti swung and slapped him across the face. Then blinked rapidly when he didn’t even twitch at the strike. It had hurt her a lot more than him. Holding her stinging hand, she demanded, “Do not call me that again. Ever.”
He leaned into her without touching her, his face in hers, eyes spasmodic white-black-white, his mouth ticked up in sarcasm. “Or what, little girl? What will you do? Put me over your knee?” Towering over her in breadth and strength accentuated the ludicrous suggestion.
“Just,” her brows in a scowl, she kept her head lowered, “get out of my face. Leave me alone.”
Dev slammed his palm on the emergency stop button and grabbed her arms pinning her against the wall. The elevator came to a complete halt.
Sveti’s eyes flew to the door that wasn’t going to open, trapping her in a cage with her enraged husband that was half-man, half-beast.
She raised her apprehensive eyes up to him.
Hard angry fingers wound around her arms, his dangerous face flushed dark with daunting wrath, he ground out, “Leave you alone? Don’t you tell me to back off, Wife. I give the orders here, and I do what I want.” Flames sparked, licking and crackling around the encasement without touching anything to burn.
His voice still low grew louder with threat, “You have men hanging all over you, your fucking boyfriend is calling, have y
ou forgotten who your husband is?”
“Devilos, stop acting like a jealous-”
“Fool?” His black brows arched as his eyes turned vilely white, his horns swelled, the flames billowed. “Now you’re calling me a fool? I will remind you who your husband is, Prințesă Svetiessa Dravidian.”
He smoothed the ire from his face making it an implacable mask and yanked a cloth out of his pocket, reached high to tuck it over the video cam.
Turning back to Sveti who had nowhere to flee, her back against the wall doing her best not to cower from the raging demon she had married.
Dev curled one hard hand around the front of her neck, the other reached down to the bottom of her skirt and pushed it up.
“Devilos-”
The beast wavered, rising and spreading around him. “Me, Prințesă, I am your husband. I am the only man you will ever be with,” he moved his hands to shove her blouse up and harshly gripped her breasts.
“The only man who touches these,” groping them roughly, he let go and jerked at his belt unbuckling it, tugged his pants open.
“Devilos, stop this! We’re in a public place, stop!” Sveti hit at his chest.
He kept her immobile with his arm as he unleashed his pulse pounding hard-on, rigid with fury and lust. Then he lifted her to force her legs around his hips, braced her back flat against the wall, one arm under her butt to hold her up.
His face mere inches from hers he snarled, “Your husband, Prințesă, only me,” stuck his hand under the bunched skirt, fisted her panties and ferociously ripped them off.
Stuffing them in his pocket, his face was so close to hers he could smell her fear, her femininity. “See, Svetiessa, if I was a real bastard I’d strip you naked, but I’m not, that will wait until we are in our suite. Aye, and then I’ll tie you down, naked, you won’t be going anywhere.” If he wasn’t so frighteningly furious his mouth would have been raised in a grim smile.
Her palms flat against his chest, she pushed, he was such an iron tank it made no difference. “Please, Devilos, don’t treat me like this,” her plea a whisper, hoping to calm him.
“Like what? Like my wife? You need a lesson, honey, on who owns you. You’re going to get it right now.” He gripped his shaft and pushed it at her opening.
About to brutally ram his steel beam of man’s flesh into her without care or making her ready, glaring infuriated into her pale face, seeing her baby blues wavering with burgeoning tears, he paused.
Sveti laid the side of her face on his shoulder, his shirt roughly soft on her cheek. Her hands clutching his huge rocky biceps, her voice tight with emotion, as fearful, and angry as she was, he still lit a fire in her. Between her legs she burned for him, but not like this.
She spoke in hushed stillness, “Husband, please don’t take me like this, in anger, in violence.”
His rigid manhood in his fist strained against her core, Dev didn’t move a muscle. Then he gently let her slide down to her feet.
Without looking at her, he tucked his stiff penis in and did up his pants, then grasped Sveti’s blouse and silently tugged it down then fixed her skirt. Hearing her sniff back tears, he raised his head, the corners around his eyes crimped deep with his remorse.
He cupped her chin, murmured, “Baby, Svetiessa,” a deep breath filled his chest down to his throbbing erection. “I…ah, I’m sorry. I,” he lifted her head so their eyes connected, his were drifting back to black, hers were blue blurs from the unshed tears.
“Shit, Svetiessa, I’ve never cared about a woman like I do you, I’ve never felt jealousy before, it just takes me over. I’m,” he kissed the tip of her nose, another deep, slow calming breath exhaled.
He said slightly embarrassed, “I’m terrified, huh,” a sad chuckle with a shake of his head, “terrified of losing you.” He brushed a thumb over her cheek still red with anger and fear. “I can’t say I won’t behave this way again. I most likely will any time some other asshole is sniffing around you. It’s not in my genes to not protect and fight for what’s mine.”
Her smile a weak squiggly line she informed him, “Devilos, I am not a possession.”
The corner of his mouth tweaked up, his hand slid to embrace her face. “You can say that all day long, my sweet, but you are mine. Your feminism aside, I can’t change who I am and how I feel. But,” he sighed ruefully, “I will try to keep a tighter lid on my temper. Okay?”
When she smiled, he bent and cupping her face with both hands gave her a soft, on the edge of steamy kiss. Lifting his head, he smiled at her, the darkness in his face and eyes lightened, the beast was gone. “Let’s go before the gendarmes come to check out why the elevator car has stopped.”
He took the cloth off the camera and stuck it in his pocket, then pushed the button and the elevator progressed to their floor.
When the door opened and he nudged her out, she hesitated, said embarrassed, “But, Devilos, I’m not, you know,” she whispered, “not wearing any panties. You took them.”
His horns swelled. “Aye, I’ve been struggling to not think about it.” He gave her a devilish leer, and patted her butt, then caressed it. “We’ll take care of that when we get back to the room.”
As soon as they were in their suite, Dev turned to her and pushed both hands up under her skirt to grab her bare bottom, his mouth went right to hers to covet and forage while he squeezed and kneaded, crushing her hips to his, his fingers creeping into the crease between her round cheeks.
“Wait,” she pushed from him. “I need to find out why Ryen called. He wouldn’t I’m sure if it wasn’t an emergency.”
Dev’s skin darkened into a scowl. “Fuck, Svetiessa,” he reached for her, “I need you, now.” His erection bulged in his pants, his eyes were flickering black and white.
She danced from his hands. “No, I have to find out if something’s wrong.”
Ignoring his growl and fisted hands, she hurried to the wall com and dialed the Transmissions.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Hello, Ryen? Hey, it’s Sveti. Why-” She moved away from Dev who was hovering over her. Her mouth dropped open. “What? He did what?”
“What? Who? What’s he saying?” Devilos followed her.
She held a hand up to ward him off, her head shaking back and forth with disbelief, her eyes scrunched in worry. “I can’t believe he would,” she claimed, then blinked hard lifting her head, “yes, of course he would. Listen, Ryen, of course,” she nodded as he spoke.
The cell was tight against her ear blocking any sound from seeping out so Dev couldn’t hear Ryen.
“What? What Svetiessa? Answer me?” Dev bellowed as he followed her around the room.
She turned her back to him, said into the phone, “Of course, Ryen, I will do all I can, I will come-”
“Oh fuck no.” Dev grabbed the phone out of her hand, barked into it, “Rembrandt? What the hell, my wife is not leaving this station! Hello?”
He listened, heard nothing, repeated, “Hello? Rembrandt, you there?” When the phone clicked silent, he slammed it onto the holder on the wall and swung around to her angry face.
“I don’t give a fuck if you’re mad, Svetiessa. What does he want you to do?” His dark brows lowered at the guilty look on her face.
When she didn’t answer he gripped her arms, gave her a little shake demanding, “Answer me, what did he want?”
She said calmly, “Let go of me and I will tell you.” She ignored his scowl and held her ground.
He let her go, then ordered gruffly, “Tell me.”
A guilty rose colored her cheeks, she looked down. “Well, apparently Krystian has, um, taken him prisoner, and wants to trade his life, for,” her eyes flitted up at Dev then quickly away.
His voice dark, growling, he asked silkily dangerous, “For what, Svetiessa?”
She hesitated, swallowed hard, then said quietly, “Me.”
“What!” he exploded. Scrubbing his fingers down his face in lieu of bashing his fist through a wall
he shouted, “Nay! No fucking way, don’t even think about it!” Seeing the set of her face he barked, “What? You are not considering it, Svetiessa, no!”
“Devilos, he is my dear friend, he wouldn’t be in danger if it weren’t for me, I have to do what I can to help him.”
The hammering vein in his temple looked about to rupture, he yelled, “I don’t care if he’s the King of the galaxy, I said nay, no, you are not going anywhere! How you could even think about doing such a stupid thing? You know what your bráthair will do to you, he wants you in his bed, Svetiessa.”
His voice dropped, “And he will hurt you in revenge for your helping Miles, and for leaving him, for marrying me, you have to know that.”
Sveti knew that. She corrected him with a mumbled, “Half-brother.” Even though she was no longer a virgin, Ryen told her Krystian craved her, wanted her still. But Ryen was pretty sure he planned on punishing her for marrying Devilos.
A shiver rifled through her, Krystian was a vicious, sadistic man. With her own eyes she has seen him discipline, punish people for even looking at him funny, many did not survive.
But, her lips firmed, he had Ryen, he would certainly mutilate if not outright kill him, she had to do what she could to save her friend.
Seeing the wheels spinning in her head and the determined set to her small pointed jaw, Dev grabbed her arms again, held her taut.
With a quiver of fear in his voice, he demanded, “Stop it, Svetiessa, stop. You are not going there. I sent our mixed DNA per your virgin’s agreement to your séantóir bráthair, sorry,” he held a hand up, “your perverted leasbratháir, half-brother.
“He will see the langistine from my horns is there, it won’t make him immortal like you, but with the spell he will be more powerful and dangerous than he was before. He got what he wanted, he wasn’t cheated. Baby, please,” he could hear the fear in his own voice, “you are not leaving this station.”
He shook her, the flaming curls flurried down her back. “I will restrain you, Svetiessa, I swear to Zues, I will chain you here until my ship is fixed, and my team and I will go to save your Ryen. Without you.”
Devil's Prince (Satan's Brood Book 1) Page 23