Demon Spelled

by Gracen Miller

They’d inserted the butt plug because the device could expand and shift forms with a touch to his armlet. If Lyx enlarged it a fraction each day, she’d be able to endure his bulkier dick by the end of the week. Eager to compare the feel of her ass to the equisite tightness of her cunt, he’d had the sex toy specially crafted for her.

  Lyx leaned toward her and pressed his lips against her ear. She stilled as his lips moved against her ear, “You’re drawing attention to yourself with all the wriggling.”

  Her gaze jerked upward to land on their guests. Jamin and his two wives, neither of which had given him an heir during the course of their forty-years of combined marriage. Jamin’s interest was evident in the way he gawked at Sanja. Lyx thought their guest adjusted his cock more than once, but with the table’s shelter, it was uncertain.

  Sanja stilled, looked quickly away from the other demon, and went back to picking at her food.

  Not that Lyx could fault the fucker for staring at her or getting a hard on. Jamin’s wives were dull in comparison to his lively Sanja. She was soft and rounded where they were hard and reedy thin. Their green and purple hair drab next to her ginger locks.

  Bored out of his fucking mind, he suspected his sex-pet suffered the same malady. At least he hid his boredom better than she did. Except for the grip he had on his thigh, which had turned his fingertips a light purple. Half an hour ago he’d wondered if this fucker would ever shut up and this dinner would end.

  He didn’t give two-shits about politics or if the law on aneya-tribes was shifting. That was Troz’s specialty, as was evident in his steady stream of banter with Jamin. Aside from fucking Sanja, Lyx would prefer cutting throats to finagling others into granting his requests. Messier, yes, but it conserved time. Jamin made up part of Jakira’s entourage, which was all the more reason to indulge the other demon’s presence.

  Of course Jakira would understand if he kicked the fucker out of his home. They had a new concubine that required constant fucking. He estimated she’d probably encourage his inclinations. Lyx gave a mental snort. Utter bullshit. Jakira would be confused why he restrained himself from fucking her in the presence of the other demon and his wives. That was how shit was done in Baal. He rejected his inclincation to have her straddle his lap and ride him because he knew his sex-pet would balk.

  Spoiled already. Got no one but myself to blame when she continues to rebel.

  Sighing, he glanced at the half-eaten spread on the table. He’d identified at least three fruits that spawned deviant sexual fantasies. He’d shove them up her wet cunt and dig them out with his tongue. Because of those daydreams, his exorbitantly priced mawl-skin pants attempted to strangle his erection.

  In an abstract manner, Lyx ran his fingers along her arm. “Are you finished eating?”

  Sanja peeked at him and murmured, “Yes.”

  He patted his thighs. “Sit on my lap.”

  She shot a nervous glance at their guests. Even though she normally projected her thoughts, he required no need of his empathic abilities when her expression said enough. In her world the request may seem odd, but in Baal, it was a tame as fuck request.

  He tapped his armlet. He knew the moment the vibrators came on because a shocked breath sizzled out of her lungs. Her response jerked a sharp glance from Troz. Lyx placed his wrist on the table, and his spouse inclined his head in understanding.

  Once more, Lyx put his lips to Sanja’s ear. He spoke softly so no one else could hear them. “Sit on my lap, or I’ll leave them running until you’re coming for the others to watch.”

  Expression blank, only the slight tension in her jaw physically verified her agitation. Her mind was altogether a different matter, but rolled in a wave of chaos thanks to his invitation. After a hesitation long enough he fancied she might be bold enough to decline his request, she caved to his demands and eased out of her seat. She plopped onto his lap, grinding her hip purposely into his erection as she squirmed to find her seat.

  Catching her by the hips, he chuckled as he halted her murderous intent on his cock. A subtle retaliation, if not for her projected thoughts. He adjusted her on his lap, turning her sideways to face Troz, and out of the direct line of sight of Jamin and his spouses.

  Their backs were to the wall, easier to guard that way, and it meant none of the servants would approach without being seen. The table hid them from the chest down. Troz slid into the chair she’d vacated and grasped her ankle nearest him, perching the dainty appendage on his thigh. Fuck how he loved when his partner understood his intentions. Troz made quick work of sliding his hand up her leg, inching the garment to one side in the process.

  Guessing by her stiff spine, he surmised she expected them to push her further than she wished in front of their guests. Her thoughts were a riot of hysteria. At the top fearing the connotation it would send to Jamin if she openly rejected their touch. And the style of chastisement she’d receive for the gesture. That last thought was the only thing that held her tongue.

  Troz’s punishment this morning sent a powerful message.

  Lyx put his thumb against her lower spine and created lazy circles. Mid-thigh Troz halted the direction of his palm and slid his touch back down her leg to her ankle, to repeat the movement upward and downward over and over again.

  “Relax. Trust us,” Lyx whispered against her ear.

  Troz’s caresses kept her from relaxing.

  Stubborn witch.

  Lyx suspected they’d never fuck the stubbornness out of her, but he liked the challenge she presented.

  On the fourth swipe of Troz’s hand, she relaxed a fraction against Lyx’s chest. During the lull of conversation, he peered across the table at Jamin. He gawked, while his wives conversed in soft undertones, and sent shifty peeks in their direction. Lyx had no need to hear their conversation when he could read their minds. They were envious of his sex-pet, wishing they held many of her attributes.

  “I hear your concubine is part angel.” Jamin’s wives went silent, as surprised as Lyx by the other male’s bold comment. “You know the offense for harboring an angel.”

  Smart girl that she was, Sanja somehow recognized the other demon’s threat even though it was spoken in Baalian, and she melted against Lyx’s chest seeking his protection. Troz’s slow glide along Sanja’s leg halted, and he felt his mate’s tautness immediately. The atmosphere went from friendly to deadly.

  He suspected the only thing that kept Troz from putting the other demon in cuffs was Sanja clasping his hand resting on her knee. His spouse glanced at Sanja, took a deep breath, and some of his visible tension evaporated.

  Lyx was stunned by her effect. With one act she’d diffused a hostile situation.

  Surely Jamin realized Jakira knew everything of importance about Sanja. Even so, he struggled to contain his talons. Making the proclamation was as good as a threat against his sex-pet. Lyx glared at the demon as he focused on the soft flesh of his woman’s skin beneath his touch. “Our concubine is no concern of yours.”

  Troz utilized a more political, tactful approach, as his fingers laced with Sanja’s. “I’ve recently discovered you purchased a hydra.”

  A punishable by death purchase, as well as all ancestral assets and ranks stripped from the remainder of the family.

  “An illegal acquisition,” Lyx sneered loud enough someone three time zones away could’ve heard him.

  Jamin blanched. “Rumors,” he said stiffly. The wife closest to him squeezed his arm, her yellow claws visible, but obviously filed down as was current fashion. “I’m sure the angel allegations are rumors, as well.”

  They neither denied nor confirmed his declaration. To show weakness now would send a wrong message, so he fixated his focus on the other male as he allowed his talons free and coiled the free strand of Sanja’s hair around a finger. A subtle threat to his guests. One that was received by the gape of Jamin’s wives and the panic of their thoughts.

  “In future…” Troz’s talons were out, as well, a rarity for his husband bec
ause he’d learned ages ago how to control his emotions. At the present, he used the sharp tips to create random designs on the table, an indirect threat only a fool would disregard. Jamin was no fool. The fingers of Troz’s other hand rubbed back and forth over Sanja’s as if no threat had been made against her. “You’ll guard your tongue. Seed rumors in any way regarding my concubine, and you’ll become Horace’s neighbor.”

  Jamin gulped. “Understood, The Thirteen.” It was as close to an apology as they would receive from a fellow demon, because demons performed regret poorly.

  One of his wives twittered like a fool, and the other fanned her cheeks dramatically. In the presence of a killer, the least amount of emotion displayed benefited the target. At the moment, they were very much the targets. A spouse’s behavior served as a direct reflection upon the other partner. Their noticeable nervous behavior damaged Jamin’s reputation. He should’ve controlled them better. Lyx decided Jamin a lucky fucker for his lack of offspring with these idiot companions.

  It wasn’t long before the evening wrapped up and they were left alone with Sanja.

  “I should have him killed.” Lyx remained in their language sure their sex-pet would endure guilt if she knew his suggestion.

  “Not yet. I’ll put someone on him.” Troz tugged Sanja off Lyx’s lap, and onto his. With her balance offset, she crashed into him, her breasts flattening against his chest, with her knees between his legs. Troz gazed at her as he spoke to Lyx in Baalian. “We’ll reassess the situation in a couple of days.”

  “A lot of damage can happen in a couple of days.” Antsy by the danger Jamin presented toward their woman—either intentionally or not mattered none—Lyx rose to his feet. And if Jamin were speculating about their woman, so were other demons.

  Using his forearm, he swiped the dishes aside, intending to fuck away his edginess. A few dishes crashed to the floor, splintering as they shattered, while the others were simply relocated further away on the table.

  Sanja flinched and would’ve looked around, but Troz buried his fingers in her hair and quickly uncoiled her hair from the fancy bun Fairy had crafted. “A unit is waiting for him at his home. I notified Jakira with my armlet. We will ferret out the rumor-makers. I’m certain our Queen will make it her top priority. Enough conversation, lover.” Using her hair, Troz tilted her head back hard enough a sharp gasp exited her mouth. In English, Troz said, “We have a woman to fuck and tame.”

  He slammed his mouth over hers for a wet kiss that went on and on.

  ERICA COULD SENSE their agitation, and she suspected it had to do with their dinner guest so she gave into Troz’s kiss, giving herself permission to enjoy the wet glide of his tongue. With the majority of their conversation spoken in Baalian, she’d understood little. After she sensed the sudden escalation of Lyx and Troz’s tempers she worried blood would spill, especially when the talons emerged. When the guests left, she breathed a sigh of relief until Troz snatched her against his chest. Now she worried about losing herself to them once more and neglecting her focus to escaping.

  As Troz pushed her to her feet, Lyx untied the strings to her top and it fell away, hitting the floor with a soft plop.

  Troz snagged a bottle of liquor off the table. The liquid glowed like blue neon and sputtered fire when it sloshed inside the glass. “Lie flat on your back on the table. Arms over your head.”

  She stared at Troz, considering her alternatives. Never failing, Lyx gleaned her thoughts and said in a strict tone, “Don’t even think about disobeying.”

  “My demon’s near the surface.” Eyeing her, Troz tilted the liquor bottle to his lips. “You disobey, I won’t be accountable for my actions.”

  Fear clogged her throat, but she inched onto the table as best as she could in the straightline dress. “This isn’t sanitary.”

  “Things are about to get a lot less sanitary, angel.”

  Goosebumps chilled her body as she reclined against the hard surface, lifting her arms over her head.

  Lyx’s inverted face came into view. He kissed her forehead as he settled his oversized hands on her upper arms and added pressure. Her belly roiled with the thoughts of what Troz planned to do to her since Lyx felt compelled to anchor her into position.

  “Rest easy, my sex-pet.” Lyx slid his lips down along her nose and kissed the tip, before giving her an upside down kiss on the mouth. “We only seek your total submission tonight.”

  Troz roughly jerked her skirt off, leaving her naked, while they remained clothed. “Keep your eyes on the ceiling or Lyx. Never look at me.” He positioned one of her feet on the table, leaving the other dangling over the edge, while pushing her thighs wide. “Disobey and”—he smacked her exposed pussy lightly and she jolted, surprised the slight stinging aroused her more than frightened her—“I’ll spank you there until you’re hoarse from screaming for me to stop. Understood?”

  She nodded.

  He slapped her harder and she yelped. “Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t move. Not even your hips when you’re close to coming.” His finger skimmed her pussy lips. “Ask permission before you come.”

  “I under—”

  Liquor dribbled over her pussy.

  “—stand!”

  The icy-sting of the alcohol surprised her since it’d sparked with movement in the container. It felt like the liquid froze into place. The heat of Troz’s tongue cleaned it away. He repeated the process over and over and over again, until she whimpered and begged for them to let her come. Each request was denied.

  “Beg harder.” Lyx continued with the upside down kisses, some wet and long, some nibbles against her lips.

  “Please,” she whispered against his mouth, and Lyx shook his head, jaw firm. The slight creases at the corners of Lyx’s eyes, suggesting he enjoyed her struggle.

  She tried to count the red whiskers on Lyx’s jaw, but Troz’s tongue circling her clit as he removed the liquor distracted her from her concentration.

  “Troz!” A whimper added an additional plea. “Please let me come.” Belly clenching painfully, she panted, doing everything she could think of to stave off her release until they granted permission.

  Her eyes went wide when he jabbed an alcohol-coated finger into her cunt, and his tongue tunneled into her to scrub it away. Lyx’s features went out of focus, and she screamed, “Please, Troz!”

  “Look at me.” She lifted her head and met Troz’s black eyes. His mouth was wet from his oral pleasure. “How close are you?”

  “Can’t hold off long.”

  “Yeah?” He seemed fascinated by that. As she watched, the streamers from his fingers buried into her bent leg. He rubbed his chin along her knee. “Permission to come declined.”

  She groaned. Holding his gaze, she lowered her head to rest on the table once more, pondering different ways to convince him to consent to her request.

  His fingers found her clit and rubbed. Hard. Their gazes were locked tight. She didn’t dare look away. Pitiful whimpers of distress tore from her.

  “Can’t…hold…off…”

  Troz elevated his black eyebrows. His steamers were inside her, so he knew she was too close to the edge. Her hips bucked of their own accord. He removed his touch from her cunt and gave her a sharp, open-palmed smack directly over her clit.

  It wasn’t as hard as when Lyx smacked her ass yesterday, but the mixture of pain and pleasure was all she needed to go over the edge, regardless of lack of permission. Erica climaxed, the bliss washing over her in slow waves of peace.

  When she finally came to, she was being carried down the hall and into their bedroom.

  Why wasn’t he punishing her? “Where are we going?”

  “To dole out punishment.” The sudden burn of tears blurred her vision. He’d forced her climax, the unfairness of her predicament making her pleasure bittersweet. “I pushed you to come on purpose. Don’t worry,” Troz said as Lyx opened a door in their bedroom that led to another room she didn’t ev
en know existed. Could this be the kinky room Lyx had offhandly mentioned? “You’ll enjoy this punishment.”

  The lights flickered on and as she gaped around the room, her eyes widened at all the sexual implements. It was a BDSM Dom’s wet dream. Most of it she had no clue what it was or how it was used.

  Yep, definitely the room Lyx told her about.

  Troz carried her straight to a padded bench that reminded her of a wooden horse. A little bump in the padded area rose from the bench and he placed her crotch in that position. He pressed her face down over the apparatus. Afraid they’d spank her until she couldn’t tolerate the pain, had her shaking and tears falling.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, hating herself for apologizing when she’d been forced to disobey him.

  Troz knelt down before her head and met her gaze. His hand clamped on the back of her neck. “I’m not displeased with you, Sanja. This is a form of punishment, but a reward too.”

  Confused, she frowned at him. He remained on face-level with her and she felt Lyx’s hands touch her hips, and adjust her position slightly until the bump on the bench was snug with her clit.

  “Lyx is going to tie you down.”

  “Please no!” Panic snarled through her and she fought against Troz’s hold.

  “Cease.” Lyx’s command halted her attempts at getting free. He positioned her on the bench once more and elevated the device until her legs dangled without her feet touching the floor. “We’ll get to that bad memory later, but for now, you’ll relax.”

  Troz pulled up a sofa chair to sit in it facing her. He brushed her hair aside so he could see her face clearly. “No tying down. Not yet. You’re commanded to not move.”

  A command was something she couldn’t gainsay no matter how hard she tried thanks to the slave band.

  “Start low, Lyx.”

  A soft click and the bump on the bench that rested against her clit vibrated. Her eyes widened and Troz smiled at her, running a fingertip along her eyebrow. He grasped her hand, lacing their fingers together and kissed her knuckles. As she watched, those streamers entered her flesh as Lyx inserted something into her channel. Coupled with the vibration against her clit, she whimpered. Whatever the device was, it began to rhythmically pump into her slowly.