Demon's Mark: The Complete Series

by Nora Ash

  The big male grunted at the gesture, but didn't move away. She left her hand in place when she lifted her head again, squeezing gently. Maybe he wasn't a good person in the original sense, but someone who could feel the sort of grief he had been through, and come out with the resolve to not let history repeat itself, could not be purely evil, either.

  “Fuck!”

  The sudden outburst made Selma jolt back in her seat just as Kain slammed the brakes so hard the car screeched to a halt.

  “What…?” The question died on her lips the second she looked out the windshield. Three black cars were parked across the road, and seven men in dark trench coats were standing in front of them, arms folded.

  “Oh no.”

  “Stay calm.” He gritted his teeth and released the steering wheel. “These are not local hire men. I can't fight them all—I will attempt to negotiate.”

  Her stomach dropped. That meant it was Marathín's men. Marathín, who would punish her disobedience the second his hands were on her again.

  “Please, Kain, don't let them take me.” It was a desperate plea, an unreasonable plea, asking him to jeopardize his standing with his kin for her. But he was all she had.

  “It will be okay,” he said, his tone unusually soft. Giving her one last, lingering look he opened the door and slid out of the car, leaving her with her panic.

  She was only alone in the silent cocoon of the car for a moment. She saw the strangers point towards her, and then Kain walked around the car to her side, opening the door for her.

  “Come.”

  Her fingers felt stiff when she fumbled with the seat belt, but it clicked open and allowed her to stumble out.

  Kain's large hand closed around hers, keeping her steady as he led her towards the waiting men, like an anchor in the storm.

  “That's her,” the one closest to them said. “She matches the picture from the file we were given. You made your procurer very worried, young lady.”

  She shuddered at the coldness in his eyes, despite the calm tone when he addressed her.

  “The girl is under my care.” Kain squared his shoulders ever so subtly, pushing her closer to his side. “Why does the Agency have interest in a runaway Breeder? I am in the process of taking her back so she can go to the auctions—your services are not needed.”

  The leader's eyes narrowed. “The Agency's business is confidential, Lord Kain. And you are outside of your jurisdiction, transporting a missing Breeder. Hand her over—she needs to be returned to her procurer for further preparations.”

  “No.” Her fingers clutched harder at Kain's hand. “I can't go back to him—you can't make me go back there, please!”

  “Look, she's frightened of him. I would imagine that's not particularly helpful for having her settle in,” Kain said, giving her fingers a calming squeeze. “She is comfortable with me—let me take her to the auctions. Or even prepare her, if she needs it.”

  The stranger frowned and glanced at her, a moment's hesitation flickering over his face before stern resolution hardened his features. “No, she needs to learn that running away will not benefit her. It's for her own good. And why have you taken such an interest in her? She's not a Pure Breeder—this is of no concern for a Lord.”

  They were not going to let her go. Selma felt the situation spiral out of control, felt her freedom being pulled away yet again. And, worst of all, knew that these men would bring her back to Marathín, who would hurt her parents in order to punish her and keep her locked away until her mind finally gave in.

  “But I am!” The words shrilled from her throat before she could stop herself. “I am a Pure Breeder!”

  She would have continued; would have begged them to let Kain take her—told them that Marathín would hurt her, in the hopes that their loyalty was with their kind over the doctor, but she never got the chance.

  As if they were one and the same, all seven Agents lifted their right arms and pointed them at Kain. Dark energy swirled around their palms.

  “Step away from the girl. Now!” The leader no longer sounded calm—his voice was hoarse with stress, though he didn't take his eyes off the bigger demon.

  Kain's hand had frozen around hers, and when one of the other Agents moved closer to pull her away from him, he didn't move to stop it. Simply stood as if carved from marble.

  “Kain!” Selma fought against the man who had a firm grip on her, but his strength far surpassed hers. “Help me!”

  “Shh, it'll be okay,” the Agent murmured, obviously trying—and failing—to soothe her. “No one is going to hurt you.”

  “Is it true?” the leader rasped out, still not looking away from the Lord, as if they expected him to suddenly morph into a feral bear. “Are you a Pure Breeder, girl?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was a whimper. She didn't understand what had just happened, didn't understand why Kain was suddenly staring at her as if she'd betrayed him, or why the Agents acted as if he might harm her.

  “No hint of deception,” the Agent who held her said.

  “Did you force a Mating bond with her?” This time the leader snapped his question out, genuine anger simmering under the surface.

  Kain responded with a low, threatening growl. “No. I had no idea she was more than a normal, runaway Breeder. And neither did you, it would seem. Perhaps you might care to wonder why her procurer didn't mention this when he sent you after her like a pack of obedient dogs.”

  “Careful.”

  “Sir, he's right,” someone whispered from behind her.

  “I'm aware.” The leader nodded shortly at Kain. “Fine. We will bring her to the Governor instead of to Marathín, on the condition that you do not try to stop us from leaving with her. If you wish to see her again, you will be invited to her auction, as tradition dictates.”

  Black eyes burned into hers, the anger in them knocking the breath from her lungs.

  “Take her. I will not get in your way.”

  * * *

  Claimed

  Claimed

  The scent of jasmine and rose filled Selma’s nostrils, mixing with the musky smell of her multiple releases.

  She lay still on the elevated bed, eyes closed. Warm hands rubbed at her tender muscles, kneaded every bit of tension caused by her seizing body until there was nothing left in her but her mind's exhaustion and that constant, throbbing ache between her legs.

  She'd used the toys they provided her until she was crying from exhaustion, but no matter how many times she climaxed, she never could fully satisfy the urge for sex. In her hazy state of consciousness, it was becoming evident to her that once her mark had been touched, nothing but a male demon would break the enchantment.

  Unfortunately, the bastards stayed far away from the room they'd locked her in—she only saw one when they came to re-aggravate her mark, and they never stayed once her body started convulsing with the need to mate.

  Fucking jerks.

  When she was first taken here, she'd been afraid they'd force her.

  That was before she'd realized the true diabolic nature of their plans.

  “Do you want us to pleasure you, mistress?”

  Selma gritted her teeth in frustration. Every time she was awakened from her fitful sleep by the human women tending to her sore muscles they would offer her sexual release. Every time, the offer sounded slightly more tempting, because the longer she stayed in this decadent hell, the weaker her body became. She wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to even orgasm on her own.

  Yet the fire in her blood never lessened— never allowed her rest as she penetrated herself with the obscene dildos and cried for mercy.

  “No. And tell those bastards to stop making you ask.”

  “Yes, mistress.” The woman's flat voice matched her blank gaze. Selma didn't have to look at any of them to know—they had been like that since the first time she saw them. Mind controlled human slaves.

  She would rather lose her own mind from lust-driven insanity than take advantage of so
meone who wasn't capable of saying no.

  But if they didn't bring her to her auction soon, her mind would snap.

  And that was the entire, devious ploy—her imprisonment and the denial of her pleading to be had by a male.

  When they first brought her here, she'd been furious and terrified. But now—now, all she could think about, all she wished for when she was lucid enough for coherent thoughts, was to be taken to a Lord large and ruthless enough to fill out the hollow feeling inside and finally set her body free.

  Kain.

  His face flashed uninvited through her mind, and her pussy spasmed weakly in response.

  There were muted feelings of betrayal and sadness somewhere behind the impenetrable fog of lust, but mainly his memory brought desire so strong it pained her cramping muscles.

  His delicious scent, his voice so rumbling and deep it went straight to her clit, his big hands and the way they'd touched her body … made her feel nothing but pleasure.

  “Get out.” Even past the heavy pulse now drumming in her ears, as it always did when she thought about the Lord Protector who'd given her up, she could hear how raspy her voice sounded. Needy.

  The women had seen her masturbate before, when they came to tend to her after a demon had recently touched her mark, but as long as she had even a grain of self-control left she'd rather be spared the humiliation.

  “Yes mistress.” The weights making the mattress dip down on all sides around her lifted, followed by soft footfall over the plush carpet as they obeyed her command.

  Mindlessly, she grabbed for the nearest dildo on the silk sheets next to her, and sighed when her fingers closed around the thick, ridged shaft of the only toy that could even get her off anymore.

  It was the closest to feeling like Marathín had, and while it had hurt a little in the beginning, her body no longer resisted the protruding bumps or brutal girth.

  The dildo split her nether lips as she pressed it in, catching for one, delicious moment until her channel opened enough that she could shove the massive tool inside.

  Selma groaned, like she always did when she was opened this wide, and forced her shaking arm muscles to thrust.

  She was so swollen from the prolonged abuse that she could feel every irregularity on the surface of the toy, despite her core's soaked state. It only added to the delicious thrill rocking her body as she fucked herself.

  * * *

  Red hot need pierced through her brain from the ever-agitated mark on her forehead and shot tendrils of liquid fire down her body.

  Selma gasped and arched up, despite her aching muscles’ protests, her eyes opening wide as she was ripped from the refuge of unconsciousness’ black void.

  “Please!”

  She knew this torture all too well, knew that the demon who had awakened her would leave the minute his finger no longer touched her forehead, but she couldn’t help but beg.

  “Please, I need sex. Please don’t leave!”

  In the beginning she’d been more demanding in her needs, but that was before she’d been kept in desperate sexual frustration for days upon days. Before they’d completely reduced her to an aching, empty vessel.

  The pressure against her mark eased, and she sobbed brokenly.

  “Please.” It was a defeated whisper as she stared up in the canopy of the wide bed. The tears of despair trickling down over her cheeks wetted her ears and hair, but she couldn’t find the energy to wipe them away. “I’ll do anything.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you will, sweetheart.”

  If she hadn’t been so exhausted she would have jumped at the horribly familiar voice. As it was, she twisted her head just enough to catch sight of her most recent tormentor.

  His darkly handsome face and ember eyes made shock course through her pulsing body, momentarily easing the horrid desire enough to let horror take over.

  “Marathín! How …?”

  “How am I here?” He let his fingers dance over her naked stomach, smirking cooly when her body twitched eagerly at the light touch. “In your room—all unsupervised, with free access to your wet little cunt?” The unnaturally warm fingers continued down, brushing through her moist curls.

  Selma shrieked and parted her drenched thighs wide.The need to be fucked was taking over fully again as he toyed with her tender flesh.

  Dr. Hershey chuckled at her reaction and, with no further warning, shoved two fingers into her weakly clenching channel.

  “Hm, well, certainly ‘wet’, but maybe not so little anymore. They tell me you’ve been a good girl and stuffed your snatch with the toys they’ve provided several times a day. Are you that eager to prepare yourself to take on a Lord and his big, fat cock?”

  His taunts fell on deaf ears. All Selma cared about was the shallow intrusion, and how she needed more, needed him to thrust and fill her to the brim.

  “Please, more, please, fuck me! Please, please, please,” she chanted, trying to make her her hips rise in a rhythm that would encourage him to comply with her needs. Sadly, her body was too weak, and she whined with frustration at the lack of satisfying stimulation.

  Marathín twisted his hand, delving a bit deeper to press against her g-spot. She jerked in response and gasped as a hint of the deep pleasure she needed rushed through her system, but he was purposefully keeping the pressure too light to help her build towards climax.

  “See, I would have, if you’d not gone and run off on me, my sweet.” He sighed for emphasis and gently rubbed the spongy area inside of her, teasing her body to release even more liquid. “I would have been fucking you to your heart’s delight, but now … well, you’ve been scheduled for auction, and there’s nothing I can do about that. And as much as I’d love to climb on top of you and remind you exactly how perfectly you fit around my cock, it would only result in my swift and untimely death. See, your precious womb is now destined for a Lord’s offspring, and they don’t take kindly to anyone else testing their wares before they even get a chance to feel your soft flesh stretch over their ridges themselves.”

  “Then why?” she spat, her fear and anger with him rising at his denial to fuck her, despite her body’s continued surrender. “Why are you here?”

  “Ah.” He smiled, though there was no warmth in his eyes. Only lust, undoubtedly caused by her scent, and a cool wall of mock-professionalism. “I am your procurer, and since you’ve not told the governor of my indiscretions, it is my duty and privilege to ensure that you are ready for your auction. You used the biggest of the dildos without having been prompted by the mark first—this usually means you’re ready. I just need to ensure your body is as willing as your mind. ”

  Another of his big fingers pressed into her, causing her to gasp again. This was better, she needed the stretch, though she craved more.

  When he started thrusting gently, she sighed with relief. No matter how scared she was of him when she had the full capacity of her mind, her body knew just how capable he was of satisfying her, and just now, that was all she could process.

  “I am going to fist you again, sweetheart.” Marathín’s voice was calm and controlled, only the barest amount of his own desire shining through. “I’ll open your pelvis wide so we can make sure you’ll be a good little Breeder for whatever oversized monster mounts you. Can’t have you tearing apart underneath your new owner, can we? They get pretty rough when they first claim their prize.”

  Monster. Owner. He was using words he knew would upset her, purposefully taunting her as she lay panting and spread open for him, completely at his mercy. Selma gritted her teeth to muster up a rebuke, wanting to let her frustrations and anger at being treated like a commodity out, but it was no use. Her mind and body were too far gone on the hormones they’d been sparking in her several times a day since she arrived—she couldn’t fight him. He’d won.

  With her eyes firmly shut to avoid seeing his smug triumph, she surrendered yet again to the demon who was responsible for her capture and introduction into this living nightmare.
r />   “Do it! Just please, make this stop.”

  It wasn’t that she was looking forward to getting fisted again—although her prior experience had given her powerful pleasure, it had also been painful and humiliating. However, anything was better than this constant, aching need, and if she had to take his huge fist to make it stop, she was willing.

  More than willing. Her pussy shuddered with want around his fingers at the thought of how deliciously wide he’d forced her last time. Yes, that was exactly what she needed. Rough, deep and wide.

  “I thought you might be more accommodating this time.” There was smugness in his voice. He was undoubtedly enjoying subjecting her to his special brand of punishment after the way she had tricked him. “Don’t you worry, my sweet. I’m going to make you scream good and loud, just like you will when your new Master shoves his cock into you. You think what we did was rough? Just wait until you experience a Demon Lord in full rut. I’ve yet to see a Breeder who didn’t beg for it to stop once mounted after the auction, despite having her mark touched.”

  Selma whimpered in response. He was painting quite a different picture than what he had when he was trying to sell her on a life as a Breeder, but despite the terror working its way up her spine, her pussy clenched wetly in response to the images he conjured. Something in her—something primal and connected to the blasted mark—relished in the thought of being brutally ravaged until she was begging for an end.

  “You do look beautiful like this,” he said, wistful yearning making its way through his calm facade. “Eager to take everything I can give. I would have given you everything.”

  A stretching sensation from between her legs made it clear he’d inserted a fourth finger. It was coming—she knew it, even welcomed it, but apart from the raw anticipation of finally being brought to completion by a demon whose scent and strength would satisfy her insatiable body, she also knew it would be difficult. The man’s hands were wider than most, and he was clearly in no mood to be as careful and slow with her as he had the first time.