A fireplace that looked nearly as large as the one in the great hall took up much of the far wall. Before it stood a tub similar to the one in the tower. Steam rose from the water that filled it.
It was tempting. She was chilled to the bone from her sodden clothing, aching with fatigue and the tension of shock and fear.
She glanced at the demon lord, Nuri. “You will leave me here to bathe?”
“No. I will watch you.”
Colette felt her jaw sag in stunned disbelief. “But ….”
He tilted his head, studying her curiously, but his expression was hard and uncompromising. “You may fight me if you like. The end will be the same.”
She didn’t doubt it for one moment. The question was, would she prefer to take her clothes off and bathe while he watched? Or have him tear them from her and bathe her himself?
As unnerving as it was to consider the first, the latter held no appeal at all. Lifting her chin, she moved toward the hearth and began to disrobe with her back to him. He said nothing, which surprised her almost as much as his demand that she perform for him.
But perhaps she had misinterpreted? Perhaps he had only intended to see to it that she remain strong and healthy and he did not trust her alone?
She glanced around for him as she climbed into the tub and saw that he had moved to stand before the hearth while she had undressed. Unnerved, she settled into the tub with a hard splash that sent a wave over the rim, racing toward the hearth. The water sizzled as it met the fire. Tiny puffs of smoke arose from the embers snuffed by the wave.
A sponge and a cake of soap plopped into the water.
Without glanced up at him, she bathed, washing the chill from her body as she washed the mud away. A trembling of a different sort commenced in her belly, however, as she felt his unblinking gaze upon her, one that made her heart beat uncomfortably fast.
She thought it unlikely that she would ever have crawled out again if she had been left to her own devises, but such was not the case. Once she’d bathed and washed her hair, she looked up to discover the demon stood over her, a large bathing sheet in his hands. He did not release it as she stood and reached for it. Instead, he wrapped it around her snugly, lifting her from the tub. Setting her on her feet on the warm stones of the hearth, he pried the edges of the towel from her fingers and rubbed the cloth along her skin and hair until the towel and the heat of the fire had dried her and tension had coiled far more tightly inside of her than at any point before.
Tugging the cloth from her grasp, he walked around her, surveying her from head to toe. “You are puny even for a mortal,” he pronounced finally.
Emotions Colette couldn’t quite decipher, or perhaps didn’t want to identify, collided inside her. Perhaps the shock of her captivity had turned her mind. It was absurd to feel hurt and angry that her captor found her as unappealing as most men appeared to. She lifted her chin. She might be no great beauty, but she was not weak and sickly. “I most certainly am not! Brigit is the puny one. I am as healthy as a horse! You may ask anyone.”
His lips curled up at one corner. Something flickered in his eyes. He tilted his head to one side curiously. “Then I should compare you to a spirited mare? One that must be broken to hand?”
Colette reddened to the roots of her hair. “I would not be much use as a virgin sacrifice, then, would I?”
He chuckled. The sound was surprisingly pleasant. It made her belly clench, though not with fear. “No, but I might find it more entertaining for myself. One sacrifice could win me the approval of my overlord.”
Colette swallowed with an effort, trying to prod her disordered mind into the cleverness she had always prided herself upon. The most important thing, she realized, was to remove her mother and sister from danger if at all possible. If they were safe, then she need only worry for herself and she would stand a chance of outsmarting the demon and fleeing.
She did not think that she could bring herself to leave her mother and sister and save only herself.
She had no confidence that she could seduce the demon and convince him in that way to free them. If she had been Brigit, perhaps, but he did not seem particularly taken with her charms.
“Then, I will make a better sacrifice,” she said, her voice a little hoarse with fear. “Allow my mother to take Brigit and go.”
He moved to a high backed chair and settled in it, studying her speculatively. “Why are you more concerned with them than yourself?” he asked finally, sounding genuinely curious.
Colette stared at him blankly for several moments wondering if he’d figured out what she was trying to do. It occurred to her finally that he simply did not understand why they mattered to her. “I love them.”
He frowned, seeming more puzzled instead of less so. “This is a human sentiment that puzzles me. Is your instinct for your own survival lessened by this emotion? Or are you too brave to fear your mortality? Or too stupid?”
The insult prodded another flicker of anger. “Of course I am afraid! It is only that my desire to protect is stronger. They are weak. I am--much stronger. I can face this. Please let them go! I’ll do anything you want--I swear I will give you no trouble at all if you’ll only let them go!”
He seemed to consider that with interest for several moments. Finally, he crooked a finger at her, beckoning her closer.
Colette swallowed against a knot of fear that swelled in her throat. She didn’t really want to move any nearer. Her first instinct was to flee in the other direction, but she saw something in his eyes that gave her pause.
He was testing her.
She had just sworn she would do whatever he asked if he would free her mother and sister. If she defied him, he would know she couldn’t be trusted to keep her word and less likely to consider a bargain.
Very likely he would make no bargain with her anyway, but what had she to lose from trying?
Nothing that she could see.
Swallowing against the knot of fear, she forced her feet to move. When she had stopped before him, he allowed his gaze to move over her almost caressingly. Finally, he reached for her. Dragging her onto his lap, he held her with one arm around her waist, her back pressed to his massive chest.
Her heart was galloping like a runaway horse by the time he pulled her onto his lap. She struggled to regulate her breathing, but her lungs ached with the effort to pull enough air in and the even more difficult struggle to keep him from noticing her panting breaths.
He pushed her legs to either side of his own. Colette flinched, but before she could struggle to pull her legs together, he spread his own thighs, forcing hers far apart and trapping them between his knees and the arms of the chair.
Cool air caressed the sensitive flesh of her nether lips.
Embarrassed, feeling a strange tension enter her that she couldn’t quite decipher, she stared down at herself in horror and then glanced quickly at the demon. His gaze was on her body, specifically the apex of her thighs. Swallowing with an effort, unable to refrain from watching, she turned to look as he lifted his free hand and settled it on her full breasts, massaging each in turn, plucking at her nipples with his fingers as they responded to his touch, hardening, standing erect in tight little buds that absorbed the pleasure his fingers gave her, channeling it downward through her body until her belly began to clench and unclench rhythmically and heated moisture gathered inside of her. She sensed the movement of his head, felt his heated breath and then his mouth closed over her ear, his tongue teasing, sending waves of dizzying sensation through her as he explored the swirls. His fingers curled in the thatch of hair on her mound, stinging as he tugged slightly at the sensitive flesh the hair was embedded in.
“Maidens cringe,” he whispered softly against her ear. The heat of his breath sent a fresh tingling along her flesh, lifting the fine down along her neck, her arm, the entire side of her body. Before his words could sink in, she felt his fingers parting the soft nether lips between her thighs, felt his finger delve her cleft.
She tensed all over then, trying to pull away. His arm around her waist tightened like a vise. In a leisurely manner, he probed her. Finding her body’s opening, he pushed his finger inside of her. Colette gasped, struggling harder, fighting uselessly as he pressed deeper and deeper until he encountered her maidenhead. She sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing her eyes tightly closed as he pressed against it until pain took the upper hand, driving pleasure back.
“You are full of surprises,” he murmured. “Still, I am tempted to breech this tiny barrier and mount my spirited little mare.”
Fear and anger filled her abruptly and Colette began to fight him in earnest. To her surprise, he released her almost at once. She sprawled in the floor at the foot of his chair, glaring up at him. “You tried to trick me!” she said accusingly.
His eyes were heavy lidded as he gazed down at her, tumultuous with desire. “I am the demon Nuri. I am not bound by the beliefs or behavior of mortals. I do as I please.”
As he placed his palms against the chair arms to rise, Colette scrambled to her feet and fled. He caught her. Lifting her effortlessly, he tossed her onto the bed, following her down and pinning her to the mattress with his weight before she could recover and try to scramble away. She shoved at his shoulders, wiggled, bucked, trying to crawl out from under him. He caught her wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of her head and levering himself over her until her breasts were flattened against his chest.
“You said you wanted a sacrifice,” she gasped a little desperately.
“I have one,” he growled, his voice deep, rumbling from his chest. “I would rather ride my little mare.”
“I don’t want to be ridden!” Colette snarled at him.
“Liar. I saw your desire for me in your eyes, smelled it, felt your creamy juices of need as I explored your body.”
Shameful as it was, she had felt desire, but she could hardly be faulted that her body had betrayed her. Denying it was useless, however, when he obviously knew better.
“I could not want a man determined to take the lives of my mother and sister,” she spat at him.
“I am not a man.”
She glared at him. “That only makes it less likely, not more so.”
“Another lie--one that I could prove,” he murmured after studying her for a long moment.
“You can not make me want you,” Colette whispered angrily, turning her face away.
He leaned his head closely to hers, nibbling and teasing her ear as before. The results were the same despite all that she could do to try to focus her thoughts elsewhere. Liquid pleasure poured through her, making her flesh prickle with awareness of every brush of his skin against hers, the hard muscles of his chest and belly, his hard thigh lying across hers. “What makes you think that that is of any importance to me?” he murmured against the side of her neck as he made his way downward.
It took Colette several moments to collect her wits even to understand his question, and many more to delve her disordered thoughts to find an answer. “Because everyone wants to be desired by the one they desire,” she whispered shakily.
She saw anger in his eyes and in his taut expression when he lifted his head to look at her. “I am a demon,” he reminded her.
Her gaze flickered over his face. “You are still a man.”
Something flickered in his eyes. Abruptly, he rolled off of her and strode to hearth where he had discarded the toweling. Bending, he snatched it up. He tossed it at her as she sat up. Catching it, Colette stared at him in confusion and dread and finally wrapped it around herself.
One of the imps scurried through the door and prostrated itself at his feet. “Take her back to her beloved mother and sister,” Nuri growled without glancing in her direction, his gaze focused on the dancing flames in the fireplace.
Lady Beauchamp and Brigit were huddled together in the narrow cot when Colette was pushed roughly into the room and the door closed and bolted behind her.
Both sat up, staring at Colette in horror.
“It is only I,” she said tiredly.
“You’re--naked!” Brigit exclaimed, making it apparent that her dismay had had nothing to do with her fear that the demon had returned.
“What have done?” Lady Beauchamp demanded sharply.
Stunned, feeling guilt and shame well inside of her when she resented feeling either, Colette’s anger surfaced. “I have done nothing, mother!”
“Then where are your clothes? That vile, despicable creature violated you, didn’t he?”
There was no place to sit Colette discovered after she’d glanced hopefully around the room, unless she piled on the narrow cot with her mother and sister, and she didn’t particularly want to at the moment, not when both of them were looking at her so accusingly. Tiredly, she moved to the wall and sat down with her back against it, wrapping the cloth around herself protectively. “He did not.”
That was not strictly true, of course--not in the sense that her mother meant anyway. He had not taken her maidenhead, but he had done things she had never even imagined before.
And she had enjoyed it.
She thought that was probably the worst of it.
She had always thought that she was different from everyone else, but she had not doubted that she had strong morals and principles. She felt no shame for trying to bargain with the demon for their lives. No one else would have thought that was acceptable, she knew, but she would not have been conscience stricken over it. She would have thought that it was worth it.
She had envisioned it more in the nature of martyrdom, however.
There had to be something seriously wrong with her to find the beast attractive, fascinating, to find pleasure in his touch--to feel anything at all for him beyond fear, contempt, and revulsion.
It occurred to her after a bit to wonder if he had used his powers against her. Briefly, she felt a surge of relief at that thought. It did not last. For as she carefully resurrected the memories and examined them, she not only could not recall anything that she could positively identify as possession of her will, but the same thrill of excitement flushed her once more, as if he were touching her at that moment.
Finally, she crossed her arms on her knees, dropped her forehead to rest on her arms and fell asleep.
She dreamed. In her dream she felt the presence of the beast as he knelt before her, felt his brooding gaze upon her. He scooped an arm beneath her knees and one behind her back, lifting her up and holding her against his chest.
An awareness of movement roused her, but she could not manage to open her eyes. She could not seem to throw off the binding threads of slumber completely, for it trapped her mind in a peaceful haze still. She had only the vague sense of being carried, imagined she could feel the silkiness of some fine fabric against her cheek, warmth from the flesh beneath it and hear the comforting tattoo of a heartbeat against her ear.
The next thing she was aware of was firmness beneath her that was yielding like a fine mattress. Coolness washed over her as the warm flesh moved away. She stretched, enjoying the relief from cramped muscles from having slept so long with her arms and legs drawn up closely to her body.
More movement. This time the surface beneath her dipped as something heavy settled beside her. A touch. A rough palm settled on one breast, massaging it gently. Warmed invaded her senses, curling tentatively in her belly. She felt her nipples tighten almost painfully as blood engorged them.
Something hot and moist settled over the tender tip of her other breast. As it closed tightly around the sensitive bud, drawing upon it, sensation sharpened and instead of a gentle invasion of warmth, heat scoured her. Still, she lay passively beneath that caress, curious, enthralled with the feelings it evoked within her.
It did not cease or subside. The sensations built, steadily growing stronger with each tug on her nipple until she could no longer hold still, could no longer contain the pleasure. She moaned, uncertain of whether she wanted to escape the sensations or fee
l more, absorb all of the heat into herself.
“You want me. You find pleasure in my touch.”
The voice was soft, but husky with some emotion that pulled at her as surely as the teasing mouth, making the warmth flow like hot wax through her woman’s place.
She needed to resist that lure, she knew, and turned her face away, biting her lower lip to keep him from knowing she found pleasure in his caresses. For a time, she succeeded, but he would not have it. Moving his hand to the breast he had teased with his mouth and tongue, he massaged it, opening his mouth over her other nipple, sucking it hard and dragging a sharp gasp from her.
A restlessness invaded her. She began to feel almost feverish with some need, dismayed that he did not hold her tightly enough to prevent her from moving.
“Say that you want me and I will give you what you hunger for,” he whispered near her ear.
“I don’t,” she lied, knowing she had to or she would be lost.
Chapter Four
Colette was aware of dread before full consciousness lifted her into awareness. She could not entirely grasp the anxiety or the discomfort, but she could not shake the sensations either.
Finally, she groaned and forced her eyelids open.
Daylight streamed through the narrow windows that lined the wall on either side of the bed. Her dread deepening, Colette pushed herself upright and looked around.
She had not a stitch of clothing on and she was lying in a great four posted bed.
Confusion filled her when she recognized the room. It was the demon, Nuri’s, bed chamber.
He had sent her back to the tower room, hadn’t he?
She found her mind was still too clouded and sluggish to remember anything very clearly. After glancing around and discovering that there was nothing nearby to cover herself with except the bed linens, Colette struggled to drag the sheet loose. Freeing it after a determined battle, she scooted to the edge of the bed and got out, wrapping herself in the sheet.
A washstand stood along one wall. She moved to the pitcher, lifted it and filled the basin. The water was warm, she discovered with a touch of surprise, realizing that someone had left it only a short time ago. Perhaps it was that that had wakened her?
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