by Kresley Cole
Pounding betwixt her legs, driven by her lush heat, he gripped her nape, yanking her up. "I cannot give you up. Never will I release you."
Cleave to me!
"Demon ..." Her anguished expression transformed to one of ecstasy, her eyes glimmering like stars. "Oh, you're making me—" She threw back her head and screamed, "Malkom! Yes, yes!"
He felt her squeezing as she began to come, clenching round his shaft as he'd imagined so many times.
But 'twas all so much better than his fantasies. Her scent, her cries, the way her body writhed wildly beneath his. Plunging into the wetness of her orgasm...
"Gods, Carrow!" he bellowed. He was about to explode, the seal soon to be broken, his semen climbing. For four hundred years he'd waited to ejaculate, to offer his seed to another.
When he'd grown so large he could barely thrust inside her, when he was about to come harder than he ever had in his life, his mind whispered, Nothing but need.
Chapter 40
"Wh-what?" Carrow didn't understand. "What did you do?"
Malkom had pulled out?
He'd finished on her belly, heaving over her as he'd yelled her name. And it felt like a slap in the face. He hadn't even broken his demon seal, hadn't ejaculated with his release.
Now he collapsed atop her, his heart like a drum, his hips still languidly rocking.
Be glad, Carrow. You don't need a baby. So why did she feel like crying? "Okay, you can get up now."
He raised his head as if with difficulty, the corners of his lips curling. "I do not know if I can move, ara."
That half grin was almost her undoing. He looked so boyish, his face relaxed, his eyes now that steadfast blue.
"At least not until I take you next." He began hardening atop her.
"Get off me."
He frowned at her tone, levering himself up on his elbows. "I have hurt you?"
He had, just not in the way he thought. She scrambled back, out from under him.
" Channa, what? Did I do ... wrong?"
"Just give me a second, Malkom." She couldn't even process this. The best sex in her entire life, the strongest emotional connection she'd ever felt, and he'd gypped her. Why would he do that? How could he do that?
He'd seemed utterly lost right before he'd come.
But then, he didn't trust her. And deep down he could even hate her. Probably both.
All she knew was that he'd defied his demon instinct, denied himself that kind of pleasure, to make sure she didn't get pregnant with his baby.
Though he'd vowed never to release her, never to give her up, he might hate every minute of having her.
"Why will you not look at me?" he asked when she began dressing. "Are you angry about how I ended? Is that wrong to your kind?"
"I just didn't expect you to do that."
"I know. 'Twas nigh too good to pull away."
She muttered, "Second slap of the night," then added, "Yet somehow you found a way to."
"You are upset about this? I did not know you wanted a child."
Once dressed, she faced him. "I didn't. I don't!" She brushed her damp hair from her forehead. "I don't necessarily want a kid, but I thought you needed to break the seal and obey your instincts and all that. Since I'm your mate."
"Those drives were ... pressing," he said, sounding as if he'd just uttered the understatement of the century. "I am very stunned I could deny them."
"If those drives were pressing, then your motives for pulling out must be as well. Look, I understand why you did it. If you got me pregnant, then I could blaze and you'd never know where your all-important heir went to."
He frowned at some of her words, then seemed to take in her meaning. "An heir to what, Carrow?" he snapped. "I left any wealth I had behind, for you!" Clearly reining in his temper, he said, "I am speaking of how my child would be treated."
"What?" Third slap of the night. "You think I would mistreat my own baby?"
"Just as you said, some things you cannot risk. I must be there to protect my offspring."
"From whom?"
"From anyone or anything," he said. "Ruby has no parents and is dependent on fate—dependent now on my goodwill."
"Your goodwill?" She wanted away from him. Unfortunately, in this case at least, she wasn't stupid. There'd be no flouncing away, not when she had Ruby with her. Malkom was right—they'd have to stay with the big gun for as long as he'd let them.
No matter that he'd just made her feel dirty and lacking. I want my powers back!
"You know 'tis true. And I would not have my own so vulnerable."
"You forget—Ruby has me."
"Do you think I could ever forget that, witch?"
Carrow had heard of loves that could trump all obstacles. But then she'd also heard that there were things couples couldn't come back from.
She was beginning to fear that she and Malkom might not get past this.
He stabbed his legs into his pants once again. "You are angry with me and have no right to be."
"And you're treating me like some evil bitch who'll abscond with your kid. I'm not like that. I'm actually not that bad a person." She knew he'd had a tormented life, knew he'd experienced hardships she couldn't even imagine. Carrow could understand his mistrust. But I don't know what to do about it. "Will you ever see past what I was forced to do? Or will you always think I'm a liar?"
"What would you do then, if my seed took?"
"I wouldn't keep your child from you." As if she even could. It struck her that Malkom was in their lives now. For better or worse, he was on this plane and would never willingly be parted from her.
Maybe he was right to keep an emotional distance. Their relationship was likely doomed.
So why had she felt that unwavering certainty about him? Husband, her heart seemed to cry even now.
"You said you'd wanted me to claim you in Oblivion," he grated. "You could have gotten pregnant then. Did you give no thought to that?"
"I did."
"And?"
"And I thought that my life was already changing radically because of Ruby. And that little girl fills me with contentment like I've never known. So why wouldn't another child do the same?"
"So 'tis all about your happiness. You would have raised my child while I was imprisoned in that place?"
"I know you don't believe me, but I vowed to my goddess Hekate that I would come back for you. I swore that I wouldn't stop until you were freed. I don't know what to do to convince you of that."
He looked like he wanted to believe her so badly. Then his expression grew closed-off once more.
"I asked you a question before, and I want the answer," she said. "Yes or no. Will you ever see past what I was forced to do? Because I'm beginning to suspect you will always hate me, will always think I'm deceiving you."
"And what would you do if that were the case? Nothing will change by my answering either way."
Still he'd evaded the question. She pinched her forehead. "Then what do we do now?"
"We did things your way; now we will do them mine," he said, his tone as cold as frost. "I am going to protect you. I will even protect your adopted one. Expect nothing more."
Her lips parted. When he was done with her, Carrow's heart would be as broken as his was. Maybe worse. She asked softly, "Will that be enough for you?"
"It must be for me, as well as for you. I usually kill those who betray me. Count yourself lucky."
Chapter 41
I 've been taking my knocks, Carrow mused, staring at the peeling ceiling above her bed. While Ruby snored from the other bed, she thought back over the last three days on the island.
Malkom had been so kind to the girl, but he'd been icy to Carrow, barely speaking to her, barely looking at her. He refused to sleep inside, preferring to camp out between the neck of the sandy peninsula and the cabin. She liked to think he did this solely to protect them, instead of to distance himself from Carrow.
With Ruby, he was all patience and kindn
ess. And the girl was fascinated with her "stepdemon." Apparently, she'd explained the term to him—and he hadn't denied the title.
Ruby had fun with him, following him everywhere, and he didn't seem to mind. Several times a day, Carrow saw the big demon on his way to some task with a tiny witch huffing after his long-legged strides. He'd taught the girl how to tie special knots, and together they brought back fish and berries.
Carrow could tell he even enjoyed it when Ruby sang "Particle Man." But it made sense. He'd been alone so long, the sound of a child singing must be pleasing, no matter the tune.
Last night, Ruby had asked for Malkom to hold her hand at bedtime. Carrow had stood at the doorway, watching as he'd patiently waited for Ruby to fall asleep. He'd gruffly told her, "Dream well, deela." Demonish for doll.
With each second he'd remained at that bedside, Carrow had become even more convinced that Malkom was the one....
Sometimes Ruby would report in on things they'd done.
"I'm teaching him to read," she'd said yesterday, her tone filled with importance. "Because I read waaaaay better than him."
"You didn't tell him that, did you?"
"Only twice."
Ruby continually pressured Carrow to leave, reminding her several times a day, "You promised me you'd take me home."
"I know, baby, but it's complicated."
"I miss my friends. I miss Elianna."
Elianna, Carrow's mentor and substitute mother, was a half immortal who aged but never died. The old witch always wore an apron with pockets full of mysterious spellcasting powders, and every time Carrow hugged her, those scents wafted up. To this day, Carrow associated the smells with warm hugs and unconditional love. "I miss Elianna, too. And Mariketa. But we'll see them soon."
In turn, Carrow was pressuring Malkom to help them escape this place, but he kept blowing her off. She thought he feared that she'd leave him once they'd returned home. When in truth, if he treated her half as well as he had in the mine, then she'd be stuck to him like epoxy.
She didn't see that forthcoming. After they'd made love the first time, Carrow had awakened with her body well pleasured, even as her heart had still hurt. She'd been so stung that she hadn't sought him out for any more of his attentions.
But last night as she'd lain awake during a storm, he'd appeared in the doorway, limned by the flashing lightning. "Come."
She'd missed him like an ache, finding it impossible to deny him. Filled with excitement, she'd followed him out. As the rain fell, he'd taken her against a tree, then from behind, then with her writhing in his lap. She'd lost count after that, but each time he'd taken pains never to come inside her—or to bite her.
This morning, Carrow had been cross-eyed with exhaustion and pleasantly surprised when he'd come to the cabin early, getting Ruby fed and taking her out—as if he'd wanted to let Carrow sleep late.
Such a thoughtful gesture, a husbandly gesture. But later, when she'd thanked him, he'd coldly denied that he'd done it for her.
Yes, she'd been taking her knocks, singing "Tub—thumping" to herself as she'd held her tongue and plastered on smiles. I get knocked down, but I get up again....
She'd first started falling for him because she'd felt cherished. Now this disdain was killing her. It constantly reminded her of her childhood.
When she was young, she'd thought if she was good and made her parents proud, they would thaw toward her and give her love. Now she'd begun to accept that they never would.
Would Malkom?
Yet his behavior had made her realize something. She'd done wrong by him, and if his treating her like this for a time would help them get past her betrayal, then she could endure it.
However, there was no reason for her to endure it from her parents. She'd gazed at her emerald ring, the one tie she had with them. What if she just admitted defeat? Relinquished all hope?
Then she'd wondered, What if Malkom never gets past my betrayal?
That would be a problem, she thought as she rose to go find him.
Since Carrow had already fallen in love with Malkom Slaine.
Two witches were making Malkom rethink everything he'd known. For a demon of his age, this was an uncomfortable process.
They'd settled into a routine of sorts. During the day he fished and checked the perimeter traps with Ruby tagging along. Once done, the girl would teach him to write a few words in the sand. At night, he dreamed.
Memories from Carrow had begun suppressing his own nightmares from his past. And not all of her memories were filled with loneliness, carousing, or wars.
He'd witnessed much more from her life—visions of cars, great bridges, and boats as big as mountains. He'd seen her home, a manor called Andoain, the place she'd spoken to her parents about. It was filled with other witches and surrounded by unusual creatures.
But Malkom had also begun to suffer a recurring nightmare about journeying with her to her lands. As soon as he got there, she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Malkom." Or, in another version, she didn't apologize; she laughed at him just as those demonesses had when he'd been starving as a boy.
Carrow had admitted that she'd been well on her way to wanting a future with him, even before they'd journeyed through that portal. You were well on your way, witch, but I was there. He'd cared about her when he'd blindly followed her. And he hurt all the worse for it—
He heard Carrow approaching.
"Why don't you ever stay inside with us?" she asked from behind him.
He shrugged.
"Do you mind if I sit?"
Sit. Talk to me. Say the one thing that will ease my mistrust. Malkom didn't want to feel like this, but four hundred years of misery couldn't be cured by a few days with her. Old fears died hard.
Sensing she was about to leave, he grated, "Sit."
She settled next to him on the sand. "I need to know when you're going into the interior to search."
He wouldn't be. Because Malkom would not be returning her to her old home. If he did go off to "search," he'd just return with word that there was no way to escape.
This place was paradise. For the first time ever, he was utterly satisfied with all that belonged to him.
Though he'd had no choice about coming to this island, he would choose to stay, seizing another territory to guard, one with ample room to run, water, and food.
Food from the sea. Fishing for his mate and their young one was satisfying.
More importantly, 'twas a place without the screeching sounds and blinding lights of her home. Without the wars.
"Why are you so eager to return?" he asked her. "Is it so bad here?"
"I have to get home. That's where my life is."
"You are my female. Your life is with me."
"Then let's spend our lives together. In New Orleans," she said brightly. "Malkom, you would be happy there with us. But you'll have to trust me."
Just accept what she offers, a part of him commanded. If she betrayed him again, he would survive. Yet then he pictured how she'd looked today, smiling down at Ruby as they'd collected shells.
No. No, I would not.
If he let himself love Carrow and she forsook him again, he would not go on. So to trust her in this would be to trust her with his very life.
Now the situation was even more complicated. He was growing to care for the witch's adopted one, too. If Carrow forsook him, she'd take the child with her.
Which was unacceptable. He'd already decided that if Carrow could adopt Ruby, then he could as well. If the girl needed a mother to love her, then she also needed a father to protect her.
Father. A new purpose for him, a new name. Something to take the place of bastard, slave, murderer. A whore's get...
When he didn't respond, she asked, "And what about Ruby? Her friends and school are back home."
"The girl will adjust. Just as I've had to do again and again."
"I want more for her. I thought you would, too."
"Tell me how I can trust this
next world you want me to go to. The last time I trusted you to take me to a new place, I did not fare well."
"But you're better off now, aren't you?"
"If I am, I've certainly earned my good fortune," he said, recalling his capture and Chase's torture. Reminded of that man's disgust, Malkom said, "In your world, would your people accept what I am?"
She gazed away. "Your kind isn't ... well, there are those who'll want to make you an enemy just because of what you are. But we won't know if they can be made to see differently, not until we try it."
"Your home cannot possibly be better than this." The blinding lights, the sounds, her behavior...
"Maybe not better, but different. We belong to a coven there, and Ruby needs to learn from them. Malkom, she could grow up to be dangerous. The Sorceri showed a disturbing interest in her," she said. "And I have a bad feeling about this place. A sense of something coming. More mortals will return here. And the dangers on this island are greater than there could ever be at home."
"Ah, you have a sense, then?"
"So you're not going to believe that either?" Her cheeks flushed with anger. "If you think I'd lie about a potential danger, then I'm beginning to wonder if we truly can come back from this."
" 'Tis convenient. Your sense."
"La Dorada could still be out here. Remember her? That ghastly woman who crept through the ward, wreaking havoc?"
"She did not bother me. Aided me, in fact. She is not a concern."
Carrow narrowed her eyes. "You seem utterly convinced that this island is better than my home. Have you dreamed my memories?"
"Yes," he answered shamelessly.
Her lips parted, but she quickly collected herself. "What have you seen?"
You, dancing upon tables. "Glimpses of your world. Cars and gadgets. Enough to know I'd prefer it here."
"What have you seen of my life?"
Why not tell her? "I saw your wars. Saw you fighting recklessly."
"There aren't that many wars, Malkom."
"I saw you disrobing for strangers."
She didn't even have the grace to flush. "Have you seen me with another man?"