by Kresley Cole
She drew in once more, licking the seam of his lips. As they eagerly parted, her tongue darted inside to meet his. He groaned in surprise.
Though hesitant at first, he caught on swiftly. Soon his tongue twined against hers, her moans mixed with his stunned growls as his fingers played.
He cautiously pressed one to her opening. As soon as he'd breached her entrance, she gasped from the delicious fullness inside. But he jerked his hand away, breaking from the kiss.
"What? Why'd you stop?"
He was studying her expression. Fearing he'd hurt her?
"Oh, you didn't hurt me." She took his hand, kissing his palm, then easing it back between her legs. "That's it, Malkom. I should have told you it felt so nice."
When he returned his finger to her core, he slipped it farther within. Her sheath clamped down on it, and his eyes widened with astonishment. She could perceive that feeling of wonder emanating from him.
And she knew. He'd never felt a woman like this. In a hazy part of her brain, she recognized that he was a virgin, at least with women.
"Ah, Carrow." The deeper he pushed in his finger, the more the heel of his palm pressed against her clitoris.
She began to rock against his hand. "Feels so good, demon." Getting closer ... so close. "Just a few seconds more."
But he withdrew his finger, leaning forward to rasp in her ear, "Sex." His erection pressed high on her belly, insistent. He gripped it in his fist, as if to position it.
"Malkom, no!"
"Yes! Need."
"No!" Don't ruin this, please, don't ruin it. "Demon, please."
Just when she was about to retreat, he said, "Kiss," as he cupped her breast.
She exhaled a shaky breath. "Only k-kiss?"
In answer, he rubbed her nipple and licked his lips.
Carrow gazed at his mouth and had to bite back a moan.
Malkom had always thought that females had more control over their bodies, could master their urges. Males were the more animalistic ones.
Gods almighty. My woman is shaking from her need to come.
Of course he'd attempted to claim her!
She was wet, and that meant she needed him inside her. When his member hardened to take her, her sex would grow damp to better receive it.
He and his ara were both there.
Yet Malkom had agreed to Carrow's terms, so he would respect her wishes in this. Still, his demon instinct screamed within him to satisfy her. He intended to with his mouth, kissing her body.
He'd start with her soft breasts. On his way down to them, he ran his lips along her neck, nuzzling her collar to kiss the bite mark there. Just as his fangs sharpened, he noticed her sudden tension. She fears another bite.
So he hastened down to one of her breasts, his tongue flicking at the moisture still dripping on them from the ceiling above. With a groan, he took one sweet nipple between his lips to suck, eyes sliding shut as it puckered to the tip of his swirling tongue.
When she moaned low and cupped her breast to his mouth, he commanded himself, Last, Slaine, last! Do not come ...
Oh, yes, his woman loved this as much as he. Malkom would be at her breasts any chance he got. She cupped her other one for him to repeat his attentions.
Yet as he suckled, he scented her arousal deepening. Drawn to that part of her, he kissed lower toward her small patch of silky black curls. Her flat belly dipped as he grazed his lips over it.
Before when he'd felt her inside, she'd been wet like water but slippery like cream. Needing to taste her, he knelt between her legs. She let him hook her knee over his shoulder, unabashed. When he saw her sex, he knew why—she was perfect.
For long moments, he stared, awestruck by her pink flesh, by her glistening folds. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, again felt frustration that he couldn't.
When he caressed her there, she quivered against his fingers. He gazed up at her. "Kiss?"
Chapter 19
Oh, yes, kiss!
The demon knelt in the water before her, like some wicked god of virility. His horns had straightened and grown duskier as they flared back from his head. His thick hair was drying to a dark blond threaded with golden strands, as if it'd been lightened by the sun. His body seemed to have grown even larger, his muscles bulging everywhere.
Her brawny demon protector was pierced, tattooed, and sinful.
And he was gazing between her legs with a transfixed expression, until she was squirming. "Malkom, kiss."
He licked his lips in such a feral display of lust, she shivered. Though she was convinced he'd never taken a woman with his mouth, he was heading that way now, leaning in. She felt his breath against her, his firm lips following.
When he gave a testing lick, she held her breath. He'd definitely never done this. Would he like—
"Carrow!" he ground out, rocking his hips, thrusting into the water. Then he set upon her, hungrily licking her up and down, groaning against her.
"Yes, Malkom! More ..." She knew demon males loved when females guided them by their horns, but when she grasped his, he wrenched his head back with a violent shake, loosing her hands. He cast her a warning look so ominous that she swallowed. "S-sorry, demon."
Still he glowered. Biting her bottom lip, she began petting her breasts for him. Ah, Hekate, she could tell that pleased him.
Mollified, he settled back in. When his tongue snaked over her throbbing clitoris, she cried out and he stilled.
"No, more, more. Keep going!"
Her back arched when he made a second foray there. Another firm flick came, then another. "Oh, yes!" she cried, surrendering completely, wantonly rolling her hips up to the demon's mouth.
When he began thrusting his forefinger as he licked, she mindlessly murmured, "You clever demon. It's so good, it's so ..." Her head fell back. The tension built and built, the coil tightening.
The feel of his thick finger exploring, his wonder, his strong tongue.
"Alton, ara," he grated against her. Come, female. But this time the phrase had a completely different meaning. It was a command uttered by a dangerous male who expected her to obey him.
Malkom had planned to feast on her luscious sex until he tasted her coming against his mouth.
She was about to, was undulating to ride his finger and tongue, stealing any control he'd thought he possessed.
Last, Slaine! He feared he'd embarrass himself with her again.
The bud at her apex was sensitive—working his tongue over it made her squeeze her breasts more urgently, made her moans louder. So he circled her there over and over, gazing up at her face.
With glittering eyes, she met his gaze, panting as he plunged his finger inside her channel.
Between licks, he said, "Alton, Carrow!"
To see a female coming, my female ... to taste it.
Suddenly, she bucked, her body spasming as she rocked to his tongue. She screamed, "Malkom!"
He gave a desperate groan when he felt her little sheath gripping his finger again and again, as if sucking it deeper. Once he tasted her orgasm, he licked in ecstasy, growling with pride and pleasure.
"Ah, demon, yes!"
I wrought this from her. She was so beautiful like this, her body amazing him. She was made for me alone.
Eventually she pushed his head away though he still laved. Against his will, he surrendered his prize.
When he stood, trapping her body against the wall, his shaft strained between them. He'd never known it could pain him like this. "Sex, ara!" The water running over his heated skin was somehow arousing him even more.
"N-no, Malkom," she said between breaths.
Why can I not mate her? He'd pleasured her hard. He wanted to seize her breasts from behind, holding her steady as he planted his cock into her, deep where he'd licked her softness—
She pressed her mouth to his chest, her tongue darting against his pierced nipple.
His eyes widened. Would she reciprocate? When she brushed her lips lower, his hear
t thundered so loud he knew she could hear it.
At last! To know what this felt like....
He turned to lean back against the wall. With her collar in his hand, he guided her to kneel between his legs. "Kiss," he commanded in Anglish. She dutifully nuzzled the hair just below his navel, pressing her lips all around.
In Demonish he told her, "Give me this." He fisted his shaft to her mouth. "Take it betwixt your sweet lips."
Peering up at him to gauge his reaction, she daubed her tongue against the crown.
He bucked uncontrollably, nigh coming. Once he'd stilled his hips, inhaling for control, her tongue flicked out again.
His cock pulsed and a bead arose. He bit back a groan when she lapped up that hint of the seed. Voice gone hoarse, he told her, "I will want this from you, Carrow, every day, every night." He stared down into her bewitching green eyes.
Strange beautiful female. She was a gift, a treasure.
"You belong to me." Never will I be separated from this creature.
When he threaded his fingers into her hair, she cupped her hand round his shaft, drawing him to her lips. He gave a shout when she suckled the head into her hot little mouth.
Gods, he wanted to savor this, but she'd begun masturbating him as she circled her tongue around the tip.
With the water running over his body, her tongue swirling and fist pumping, his eyes rolled back in his head.
Cannot withstand this ... for much longer...
The demon had been so proud at how he'd pleasured her—she could perceive his masculine satisfaction. His pride had emanated as strongly as his wonder.
But on the heels of that, she could sense his agony. Her poor demon was about to explode, his engorged penis throbbing against her tongue.
Still, she couldn't deny the urge to tease him to a feverpitch, to make sure he would never forget his first time. His reactions told her this was yet another pleasure he'd never received.
So she eased back to drip water over his length, dotting droplets over each of his smooth piercings. His expression anguished, he rested one hand on her head, the other tightly covering her nape, guiding her head back. He grated in English, "More. Be ... good, ara." Telling her not to tease him?
"I'll be good, Malkom," she promised, returning her fist to stroke. But he surged forward, grinding into it. He's going to come in my hand, he's going to...
When she covered the head with her mouth, his legs quaked. His brows drew together as if with pain. Bested by her mouth and hand, the demon warrior gave a helpless groan as he began to come.
The spasms seized him. His massive body jerked. "Carrow, more!" he bellowed to the ceiling, his muscles contracting in a breathtaking display.
The demon wanted more? She was merciless. Pumping ... licking ... sucking...
He yelled out until his voice was ragged. Finally, he collapsed back against the wall, tugging her off him. Satisfaction soared through him, and she drank it in.
He was euphoric long after he'd come, possessively cupping her head to his thigh, holding her there as she continued to trace his shaft in fascination.
But then he lowered both of his hands to cradle her face, and she detected another emotion. A pure, raw ferocity.
He gazed down at her not with the expression of a man who was happy with his fate, but with the expression of a man who'd slaughter anyone who tried to change that fate....
Chapter 20
Late in the night, as he held her sleeping in his arms, Malkom again vowed that he would never, never be separated from this creature. Not while I have a breath left in my body.
Had he actually wondered what she'd be good for? Only bringing him the most intense pleasure he'd ever imagined! She had wrung so many releases from him, he'd thought he would fall unconscious.
And, in return, he'd made her climax so hard, she'd thrown back her head and screamed.
He had to believe she was as astonished by the pleasure as he was. If she was even half as grateful for it...
Though he remained erect for her, she'd pleaded for rest. After going without sleep the night before and his skirmishes during this day, he probably needed to join her.
But Malkom knew he would be plagued with nightmares. And he feared she'd disappear before he woke.
So for now, he relished what had just happened between them—the way she'd trembled against him, her breaths on his damp skin, her bold tongue and plump lips.
He craved kissing her mouth again—and her female flesh. Gods, that part of her. If he'd been fixated on her breasts before, now his obsession was divided. Her channel had hungrily gripped his finger. In five days, it'd squeeze his shaft thus....
At the thought, his enthusiasm waned. Five days. Much could happen in a handful of days.
Making plans again, Slaine? He'd foolishly been dreaming of a new future. Would these dreams be destroyed like all the others?
Instead of enjoying his fortune, Malkom was nearly sick, his stomach knotted with apprehension as he gazed down at her face. Her full lips were parted, her lashes a dark sweep above pinkened cheeks. So beautiful it pained him.
'Tis too good with her.
He didn't even know what she was, much less why she had come to Oblivion. He'd figured that she was an exile sentenced to this plane. So why was she so certain that she could simply return through the portal?
He was torn. Part of him was suspicious of her arrival. Perhaps she was here by design.
Or perhaps his destined female had been delivered by the hand of fate itself.
Yes, fate. Because another part of him believed she was a reward for all his hardships. Give and take.
He was due some contentment. And he would work to keep it. Tonight his female had fallen asleep in his arms, trustingly, because he'd proven himself.
And more, he'd decided to sacrifice his revenge for her. He'd vowed never to be separated from this woman. Which meant he had to pick one or the other.
Malkom had chosen Carrow, knowing deep in his heart that he would always choose her....
During this night, he'd figured out several things about her. Among them? She was no virgin. She was too confident, too bold. Granted, his experience was limited, but he'd never heard of a virgin who'd guided her would-be lover's finger deep inside her sex.
When she'd come around it ... He bit back a groan at the memory, wanting to be inside her. Which brought his mind back to her conditions.
He wouldn't judge her because she wasn't a virgin—who was he to ever judge another?—but why could he not have her when others had? Why hadn't she done everything in her power to please him, to ensure his protection?
Maybe she sensed how unclean his blood was, or she still feared he'd hurt her. Or was it more? Perhaps she wanted to be wed before he claimed her, or needed permission from an elder or leader to take a male. How else could she have denied them in the water?
Another thing he'd determined? Those rumored heavenly planes—where the air was sweet and the lands gave up food—they had to exist. His soft woman clearly came from a world of plenty.
His thoughts grew dark. What if he followed her to her world, and she forsook him upon hearing about his past? In time, he would remember or relearn Anglish, and then he would have to tell her.
How would he explain what had befallen him? Malkom had been a blood slave, and he'd murdered a royal. He'd been dishonored by his most reviled enemy, outcast by his own people.
Even if she accepted him, her people mightn't give her the approval she awaited, especially since he would be entering her society with no wealth. This mountain was his only territory; if he left it, he would possess no lands to share with her, lands on which to raise their offspring.
Offspring. He'd never had to think about that before. Even if he could have taken a female in the past, he wouldn't have been able to produce seed for her, not until his mate had broken the seal.
Now he might impregnate her. He felt confident that he could protect her and a family far better than hi
s own parents had him.
But what kind of children would I give Carrow? The young of an abomination.
He began to stroke her silken hair, which soothed his thoughts somewhat. Her long mane was cleaned of sand and had dried into glossy waves. He loved the jet-black color, loved seeing those locks spilling over her pale shoulder or streaming through his fingers.
Eventually, his lids grew heavy. But fearing she'd escape him while he slumbered, he reached for her collar. With the band clutched tight in his fist, Malkom finally slipped into a restless sleep.
Dreams of his past surfaced. For so long, Malkom had kept those nightmares at bay. Now they bombarded him.
The memory of the day his mother had sold him to the vampire master arose, as though he were reliving it. He'd been so excited, believing that he was to be adopted into another family. He'd thought he would enjoy endless food, water, and warmth at night.
Malkom would never forget his sinking realization that he hadn't been brought to a new family. The dawning horror as he'd heard screams. He'd seen other boys his age humiliated and abused, his young mind comprehending, They are going to do that to me....
On the heels of those scenes came dreams of the Viceroy, who'd tortured Malkom to hold sacred the Thirst. But whenever the vampire had offered demon slaves for him to drink, Malkom had been sickened, fangs gone dull and receding, no matter how badly he'd needed their blood.
I will not feed on my own kind. I am not a vampire!
Each night, Malkom had endured a host of torments. His skin had been flayed from his body with barbed metal whips—or pierced through by his own fractured bones. He'd watched searing pokers slide between his ribs.
His fury over Kallen's death had kept him strong. Never did Malkom let himself forget that he'd been forced to kill his only friend.
And then the time had come when the Viceroy had presented Malkom a slave to drink—one unlike all the others he'd offered, one more valuable than the rest. The vampire had thought Malkom too weak to pose a threat, too numbed to react. He'd been wrong on both counts.