by Kresley Cole
When he put down the ax and glanced back, she was biting her bottom lip. From the way he gazed at her eyes, she guessed her irises were sparkling with her interest.
In return, she saw pride in his blue eyes—but she also sensed his underlying disquiet. From the extravagance?
Steam rose from the surface of the pool, reclaiming her attention. She tested it with her fingertips, finding it an ideal bathing temperature. "Thank you, Malkom. But now I need some privacy." She shooed him away again. "You can come back for your turn."
In answer, he crossed his arms and gave a grunt.
"Not going anywhere, huh? Fine." Carrow wasn't shy. A confirmed eighty thousand people had seen her naked. And that YouTube vid was still going strong!
With a shrug, she sat on the rock wall by the water, emptying her toiletries from the PX. As expected, she'd needed them more than a frigging flashlight. Silly little mortals, step aside, and let the enchantress do like she do.
As the water deepened, she plucked out her toothbrush and toothpaste. Frowning at the tube, she said, "This was full when I left. Demon, did you eat some of my toothpaste?" At his studiously blank look, she sighed. "You ate my toothpaste? Well, at least you left half." She loaded the bristles and began brushing while he watched in fascination.
He looked so curious that once she'd finished up, she mimicked brushing his teeth. "Brusha, brusha, brusha?" Surprisingly, he seemed ... interested.
So she signaled for him to sit beside her. When he shook his head, she clasped her hands to her chest. Please.
In a grousing tone, he muttered in Demonish, but he did hesitantly sit on the very edge of the pool.
"Here, bare your teeth." To illustrate, she drew her lips back, smiling broadly. "Come on, demon. Baring your fangs? Shouldn't be so strange for you."
Once he did, she carefully ran the brush over his front teeth, letting him get used to the feeling. Since he hadn't bitten anything or growled, she grew more aggressive, going dental hygienist on him.
He had nice even teeth, surprisingly white. In a way, even his fangs were sexy. Because his second bite aroused you. Shut up, inner Carrow!
"There, demon. All done—"
Gulp.
"You swallowed it? Gross!" He scowled at her tone. "No more big-kids' Crest for you until you learn to spit." She clucked her tongue. "Well, now your teeth are clean, but the rest of you is caked in dust. Hair hanging all in your face. I wonder if you'd let me cut it? Maybe even shave you? Or would you growl and snap?"
She gingerly lifted a lock of his dirt-coated hair and made a scissors motion. "Can I cut it?" She figured he would put up resistance, thought his kind probably favored having their hair long as per some warrior demon code. But after a hesitation, he gave a nod. So if there was no reason not to cut it, why hadn't he?
Because he's a guy? With no women around, any male she knew would be kicked back in a beer-stained Barcalounger parked in front of a TV, wearing stale track shorts and absently scratching himself.
Now this male was actually going to let her do an extreme makeover, demon edition. Not bothering to hide her excitement, she said, "I'll be right back," then hurried to the soldiers' packs. She grabbed some T-shirts to use as cloths, a comb, a disposable razor, and man soap. She found small shears on the all-purpose knife.
When she returned, he'd already moved off the wall, a wary look in his eyes.
She sat once more, lining up her gear, then patted the stone for him to come sit.
He hesitated before rejoining her.
"Okay, demon. Step one: hair. Commencing." By the time she'd finished unbraiding the ravels, he was nearly quaking. Sensing this was a very delicate time, she moved gingerly. The nervous cast to his eyes made her believe he was allowing her more than he ever had another.
Carrow felt like she was plucking a thorn from a lion's paw.
Though she had to be hurting him as she attempted to work a comb through his gritty tangles, the demon never winced, never made a sound. In fact, he was growing aroused.
His eyes kept returning to her breasts, and he was getting that heavy-lidded look that said he was imagining right then what he'd like to be doing with them. Apparently, the demon was a breast man.
"Eyes forward, demon," she said.
A halfhearted growl in response.
Conceding defeat against the knots, she began to cut some of the worst ones away. Then she shortened his hair in the back to just above where his collar would be—if he wore one.
But when she sheared around his horns, he clenched the rock beneath him. Carrow knew how sensitive a demon's horns were, and this one's were growing, lengthening. His neck went red, and he'd begun to sweat.
When she accidentally brushed one of the hard appendages, the rock beneath his hands crumbled. She glanced at the destruction—and his erection—nervously. "Malkom?"
He gave a nod. 'Sokay.
She cautiously began again. Once she finished trimming around his face, she drew back for a better look. "Big improvement." Yes, his face was still filthy, streaked with camo paint, and covered with stubble, but she could see the basics for attractiveness were there.
Her curiosity was killing her. How far would he let her go? "Now for the rest of you." She ripped one of the T-shirts into four cloths, then lathered soap on one. "This is soap. Your new best friend."
When she ran the sudsy material over his forehead, he closed his eyes, as if savoring even this small contact. She scrubbed the thick layer of dust, revealing tan, smooth skin. Who would've thought it? His brows were light brown with a golden cast.
So help her, if Pig-Pen was a blond...
She washed his upper cheeks and his slightly crooked nose, then lathered the rest of his face. She'd never shaved another before—other than for eyebrow pranks—but she figured she couldn't make him look worse than he already did.
So she nervously pulled the razor down his lean cheek. By the fifth drag of the razor, she muttered, "I am a regular 'enry 'iggins." Everything revealed under the disappearing paint and stubble ... was gorgeous.
Once she'd finished and wiped down his face, her lips parted. My gods, he's turned up hot.
The demon had high, broad cheekbones, with shadowed indentations under them. His lips were firm, the bottom one fuller. His jawline was strong, overtly masculine, and his stubborn chin had a cleft in the center. She'd known his bone structure was good, but damn. Even his bruiser nose had a rakish cast when taken with his face as a whole.
"Demon?" He wouldn't look at her, and she thought he was holding his breath.
He wanted her to find him attractive, was anxious about it. Which made him seem so normal, vulnerable even, which in turn made her soften toward him.
Before she could think better of it, she cupped his cheek. With undisguised admiration, she murmured, "I don't know what muster is, but you pass it like crazy, big guy."
Now he glanced up. They gazed at each other for long moments. Was she so superficial that his ultimate reveal made him that much more sympathetic to her?
Well, it didn't hurt.
Yet she was also intrigued by his calmness and his cooperation, the steady clarity of his blue eyes. No longer were they black with bloodlust or rage. This demon was trusting her, and she responded to that.
Just then, a trickle of soapy water ran into his eye. His gaze still locked on her face, he didn't even blink.
"Oh, demon! Here." She pressed a dry cloth to it. "Sorry about that."
She almost didn't notice him reaching a shaking hand toward her breasts until too late, but she swiftly backed away. "Ah-ah, we're only halfway done."
Carrow knew she played a dangerous game. Tonight, she intended to release a little of his steam—to show him what he was getting out of their deal. She was ready to pay the piper but had only budgeted so much from her pocketbook. Could he restrain himself?
If not, she believed she had enough power to do a shocker spell on him. She hoped.
In any event, he needed to be
clean. Since she'd be rooming with him, she'd tidy him up, just as she had his lair. She was determined to wash every inch of his big body, humming "at the car wash" while soaping him up from tires to grille.
With that plan in mind, she unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to her ankles. Wearing only her halter, bra, and thong, she stepped into the now knee-deep water.
Once she faced him again, he looked dumbstruck, running his hand over his mouth.
When she beckoned to him with a grin, he glanced over both shoulders. Then he hiked a thumb at himself with his cleft chin proudly raised.
And Carrow thought, I think I just fell into like with him.
Chapter 16
Malkom was dazed at the sight of the pert, flawless backside she'd just casually revealed to him.
A reward for his patience? Earlier as she'd unplaited his hair, she'd been in high spirits about the prospect of shaving and shearing him. While he couldn't have been more ill at ease.
After all this time, having anyone near him had been strange, much less this female who so effortlessly undermined his control, with her breasts swaying directly before his eyes.
Plus, the water had been mere inches from him.
Yet he'd battled for control of himself, because for some reason, her task had been important to her.
For his troubles, she'd gifted him with that view of her backside.
Now he yearned to touch those pale curves, but she'd removed herself into the water. There, she mimicked that she would wash him, too. He hadn't agreed to this for himself. Yet look how he'd been rewarded for his cooperation so far! With her removing clothing and offering to clean him.
Her hands on him. Water on him.
He would smell like the vampires he'd hated. But shewould like him better. To be close to her, could he enter the pool that continued to deepen?
He'd have to undress. When he removed his cuffs, she would see the bite scars, possibly recognizing the marks of a blood slave. The idea filled him with embarrassment.
Let alone stripping completely. 'Twas one thing for other males to see him naked. But a woman? He figured that in all his years a female or two must have—but he'd never known about it, and he surely hadn't volunteered any glimpses of his body.
This one seemed to like the look of his countenance, gazing at him with unhidden approval, which mystified him. Perhaps she could be attracted to his body.
Would she undress completely? Show him those breasts he wanted to lick? Remove the silk triangle that covered her sex?
He pointed at her top, then made a couple of quick motions with his fingers.
With a breathless smile, she teased it up so slowly, displaying pink silk, wetted and clinging to her curves. The lace revealed more than it concealed.
His lips parted. The gods amused themselves with Malkom, giving him such a fine female.
Or could she be his justly earned reward ... ?
For an extraordinary, fleeting moment, he actually felt like the luckiest male alive.
When Carrow drew off her halter, the demon's gaze was searing on her, as palpable as a touch. Brows drawn as if in pain, he gave a low growl and absently palmed the rigid outline of his shaft.
Snagging the shampoo and soap, she beckoned him again with a curled forefinger. But he began pacing back and forth at the edge of the pool. She could see his expressions even more distinctly now, could see sweat beading his upper lip. Realization struck. He was afraid of getting in the water.
His phobia made sense. When would he ever have learned to swim or grow accustomed to large amounts of water?
"Okay, I guess I'll enjoy this all by myself." With just her undergarments on, she waded to the deeper center, dipping below the surface to soak herself completely. She made a big show of lathering her hair, giving a moan here and there as if her military generic shampoo were as orgasmic as a bottle of Herbal Essences.
More prowling.
Once she'd gotten the tangles out of her own hair, she meandered over to one of the still trickling ceiling streams to rinse the shampoo away. When she raised her face to the water and ran her hands over her belly and thighs, she picked up a riot of different emotions from him. One of which was ... awe.
He gazed at her like he might have looked at his last sunrise.
At last, he trudged to the edge. She eagerly met him there, grasping one of his arms to draw free the laces on his leather cuffs. But that wary cast to his eyes returned. Again she thought, Thorn from a lion's paw. "Trust me, demon."
But he couldn't trust her. Ultimately, she was going to betray him. Don't think about it, just enjoy this time.
After removing the second cuff, she frowned. The skin on his wrists was marred with bite scars. Vampire bites.
For Loreans, scars only formed before immortality was reached in adulthood. And Carrow knew that sick Horde vampires enjoyed the blood of the young, thought it sweeter.
Had Slaine been a blood slave as a child?
She traced her forefinger over the marks. He wouldn't meet her eyes, and she knew. They'd kept him for blood at some time before he'd fully matured. No wonder he was violent.
Was that why he'd negotiated with her, when probably no other male in this entire realm would have? Because he'd known what it felt like to be powerless?
At that moment, she hated the faceless vampire, or vampires, who'd hurt him, and she felt sympathy for the boy he'd been.
He must have noticed the latter in her expression, because without a word, the proud demon turned to leave.
But she didn't want him to. "Malkom, come back. Please."
He slowed and finally turned. With that calculating look in his eyes, he motioned for her bra.
"You won't return until I take it off? Then I'll give you tit for tat." She raised her brows at his pants.
He reached down to the leather ties hanging low on his waist. With a bob of his Adam's apple, he began unlacing them. Like he's nervous? The ruffian, wild-man demon was shy? Finished with the ties, he hesitated.
She recalled the way his hand had shaken as he'd reached for her breasts. Maybe he hadn't been with a lot of women, or it'd been ages since he bedded one. Apparently females were nonexistent in these wastelands—
The demon let his pants drop to the ground. The full length of his erection sprang free, and she gasped. Oh, my gods.
Carrow felt the same way she had the first time she'd seen a penis in the flesh. Giddy. And she knew she'd forever be comparing any others to this one.
Demon males were notoriously hung and customarily pierced down south, and this demon was no different. Aside from being almost uncomfortably large, he had four piercings—a sexy foursome of barbells climbing up his thick shaft. The metal gleamed in the low light, making her want to sigh.
But his size. Avoiding intercourse with him had been wise. "Am thinking your file is too big for my computer to access, big guy," she absently muttered.
That tattoo on his side snaked down his hip, all the way to his inner thigh, the design and placement intimate. Someone had lovingly inked him.
She felt an unexpected flare of jealousy for the women who'd seen his tattoo. Had they traced it with tremulous fingers?
Carrow wanted to follow it with her tongue.
This sinfully gorgeous body and face had been hidden from the world. Malkom Slaine might be a demon non grata, but he was also a diamond in the rough, one that she couldn't wait to feel in her hands. She grew covetous of him, as if she'd just gone speculating in this mine and had hit the mother lode.
When she could tear her gaze upward, she found his eyes were flickering over her face, observing her again, discerning her reaction. He was doing that "listening" thing, likely understanding her better than men who spoke her language.
Once more, he swallowed. How she perceived him was obviously important to Slaine. Was he uncomfortable with his nudity around her? Demon cultures could be such a mix, masters and slaves all driven by sex, yet conservative with it. But she didn't want him uncom
fortable.
She cast him an admiring look. "Malkom ... fortis," she said in a throaty voice. His erection pulsed, and the grim line of his lips eased somewhat.
She played a dangerous game. "No sex?" He'd lose control when they had sex—she knew it. Or rather, if they had sex. And the likelihood of him going demonic, vampiric crazy—while brandishing the biggestD she'd ever seen—made her want to cross her legs tight.
He growled, but eventually he nodded.
Deciding to leave her thong on for any additional bargaining power she might need, she unclasped her bra and tossed it on the retaining wall. "Then come—"
He was already on his way.
Chapter 17
Do not look at the water; keep your eyes on her. Malkom gritted his teeth, refusing to think about the liquid wrapping around his legs, about how unnatural it felt. No, just look at those beautiful breasts.
Gods, they were so pale and full, tipped with dusky pink nipples that were stiffening right before his eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he thought about cupping those breasts, squeezing them....
His cock bobbed painfully as he strode toward her. Once he stood before her, he dragged his gaze up to meet hers. Her sultry eyes were heavy-lidded, the irises like starbursts.
She was desirous. Which meant she would have expectations of him that he doubted he could fulfill.
Seduction. I do not know how to do this. Would she want to be kissed? 'Twas taboo among the Trothan demons.
She probably thought he'd been with hundreds of females, as most demons his age would have been. She likely believed he was skilled at drawing pleasure from females.
I have no skill and nearly as little knowledge about her body. Yet when a large drop of water coursed from her chest down one of her proud breasts, his apprehensions grew dim. Have to touch them...
But as he reached for her, she eased away, shaking her head. No, he wanted to touch—
"Malkom, please."
He hesitated. She wanted something of him now. You have had your turn—now it is hers. At length, he gave a nod, allowing her to lead him beside a fall of water. He even knelt when she did, though that put the water as high as his navel.