Defy Me: A Paranormal Demon Romance (The Demonology Series Book 2)

by Felicity Brandon

  “Nothing.” I could hear the glee in his voice. “There is no offense, but I know how much you want to be spanked, little mortal. You forget, it is not only your thoughts I can read but your dirty secrets as well.”

  I flushed at his words, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I struggled back to all fours. “Master, I—”

  “There is no point in denying it, Tara.”

  Of course, he was correct. There was no point, but even after everything, this seemed a step too far. To have to admit to those dark fantasies, I’d held within for so long, to say the words out loud—it was impossible—yet I already knew that was fabricated.

  It wasn’t impossible.

  Solomon was going to make me say them. He was going to make me admit each and every one. Kneeling there naked, I knew there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it, I would cede. However crazy it made me, however much I blushed, and however much I complained, I was going to fucking love it.

  “Is there, Tara?” His tone was even lower, more demanding.

  “N-no, Master.”

  “Tell me then.” His body cocooned me again, the warmth of his flesh encasing my previously exposed body. “Tell me what you want. Tell me how it makes you feel.”

  My head fell forward, my eyes closing.

  “Tell me what you dreamed about all this time when there was no man worthy to deliver those desires.”

  “To be spanked.” I pushed the words out, though they were only just audible.

  “What was that?” He fired the question into my right ear, the heat of his breath stirring me. “What did you say, naughty little mortal?”

  I bit my lip at the way he made that sound, and as his words resounded in my head, I realized he was right. I was wicked for wanting those things. I was bad for even thinking them. Especially now that he’d just enacted my greatest aspiration—the need for vengeance against Gavin. Those concessions made the admission all the more startling to my ears.

  “To be spanked, Master.”

  His face appeared in my peripheral vision, his grin wide as his hard length grazed against my wet lips.

  “That’s right,” he murmured happily. “I have witnessed those alluring hot fantasies you wish to deny, Tara. I know all about them.”

  Oh God. My eyes fluttered at the realization, widening as I acknowledged my reaction.

  Solomon chuckled. “I do not think he will help you, little mortal,” he whispered. “Your God cares nothing for your pleasure. He is the ultimate sadist.”

  Without warning, he plunged back inside my pussy, sinking deep within my confines until I called out at the intensity.

  “He creates you, and he gives you this body. A body that feels, a body alive with sensation, but what does he say?”

  My lips parted, but it wasn’t Solomon’s question which evoked the deed. It was the sweet pressure at my sex, the feeling of fullness as he buried himself inside me, the utopian sense of belonging, of being his as he claimed me. It was impossible to think of anything else but his possession of me and our scintillating union.

  “Tara.” He withdrew, enabling me to finally take a breath. “I asked you a question.”

  His tone was light, but I turned my head toward his face, needing to check he wasn’t angry with my hesitation.

  “I-I don’t know, Master.”

  He grinned. “Let me tell you.”

  Exhaling, he slammed back into me, satiating me in a way I’d never known before. I was replete, speared by the gigantic cock of this demon, and I was lost to it.

  “He gives you this body, this incredible body, complete with its sensory responses and tells you to deny it.”

  I gasped as he lunged, filling me once more before slowly withdrawing.

  “He is an old son of a bitch, and I swear folks just love him for the paradox. You can look, but you cannot touch. Her skin is soft and alluring, but you cannot caress it.”

  He thrust into me again, leaving me reeling.

  “Master!”

  “Her cunt is pink and juicy, but do not dare taste it!”

  “Oh, fuck.” I hissed the words as he pounded me, my head lowering as I attempted to bear the glorious onslaught.

  “It is nothing but spiteful,” he continued, evidently enjoying himself. “The way he teases you all with his unmerciful temptation. He is nothing like my master.”

  I groaned into the bedding as he collapsed on top of me, my knees splaying wide, and my hips arching to keep him inside me as his relentless rhythm went on.

  “My master does not toy with mortals,” he breathed. “He does not promise what he cannot deliver, and neither do I, Tara.”

  Glancing behind me as best I could, I caught the dark light of his eyes. “Master.”

  I sounded like one of those old-fashioned wind-up toys, stuck on repeat, yet it was all I could say. He was my master now, and not just in name. After claiming me, he had stretched and filled me beyond anything else I’d experienced.

  Solomon had truly mastered me.

  “We reward loyalty, little mortal.” His tone was hushed, even though his hips drove our pleasure on like a battery-operated figure. “And we reward it with a litany of wonderful prizes.” His lips lowered to my ears, his lips nibbling my lobe. “Pleasure being one of them.”

  “Please.” I had no idea what I was begging for as the word escaped. “Please. Please, Master.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want more,” I pleaded. “More of you, more of this.”

  “And you shall have it, Tara,” he told me, smirking. “You will be fucked every which way, whenever one of us so desires, and I shall help you live out all those sordid fantasies.”

  Catching my lip between my teeth, I smiled.

  “That sounds wonderful, Master,” I barely managed, and as his mouth pressed at my nape, there was no denying it.

  It was wonderful.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Solomon

  I had intended to rip at least one more orgasm from Tara’s body, but almost as soon as I fucked her, she curled up into a ball and fell into a deep slumber. In the past, I would have been upset by the turn of events, disappointed she thwarted my plans, but it was the most curious thing—with Tara, it did not matter.

  Of course, I would rather have spent the entire night playing with her, feeling her arousal grow as I tethered and teased her nubile body, but there would always be another night. My time with her would never end, given that my fire could never be extinguished, and her flame now belonged to me.

  So, I let her rest, rather envious as I witnessed her peaceful sleep.

  My kind never slept. Perhaps, it was one of the punishments God had seen fit to hand down to his fallen angels. Who knew? He had certainly never clarified, but it was always one mortal activity that fascinated me. That was why, in the past, I spent so much time interacting with them in their dreams. I liked to infest them, to sour those precious moments of solace with my dread and my horror, but as I delved into Tara’s mind, I found only peace—a calm serenity I had rarely known.

  She was thinking of me—the warmth of my body and the way she felt as I held her. I paused at that notion, retracting the hand which wanted to rouse her as the idea reverberated. It was not the astounding fucking filling her dreams nor thoughts of more carnality to come, but the simple touches we had shared—the sweeping caress of my hand on hers, the way my lips lingered at her nape.

  “Mmmm.” She stirred, rolling from her back toward me, and all at once, her dream began to morph into something hotter and more powerful.

  In her mind, there was a swat, the sound of flesh on flesh as a palm or something harder struck her skin, then the raspy little moans as she acknowledged the sweet sting and the longing for something more—something harder.

  My lips curled.

  Tara was dreaming about being spanked, or more precisely, she was dreaming I was spanking her…

  Sprawling beside her, I permitted myself to drift into her subconscious until th
e actions she played out in her dream were actually the ones I controlled.

  “Tara.”

  Her name rolled from my tongue like a melody, and right on cue, she panted, twisting her body over my lap.

  “Naughty little Tara…”

  “Master.”

  That hot, breathy pant met my assertion, the one that washed over me when we fucked earlier. The one I suspected would haunt me for the rest of eternity.

  “What do you need, my naughty mortal?”

  “More, Master.”

  “More… what?” I ran my palm over the curve of her delicious backside. It was bared like the rest of her, draped as she was over my thighs. “What do you want?”

  “More spanks, please?”

  She was embarrassed—I could feel the heat radiating from her crimson cheeks—yet there was more than that. There was the thrumming need of her arousal, arousal she had kept buried for too long, but there was even more. Beneath the surface, I could sense something more, and as my fingers trailed a line down her inner thigh, I suddenly realized what it was—joy. Tara was elated, excited, and nervous, but exponentially gleeful at the prospect of what was to come.

  She wanted this spanking in a very tangible way.

  “You need your master to spank you?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Lifting my hand, I brought it crashing down against her creamy skin. The sound of the impact filled the air around us, and I smiled. There wasn’t a peep out of her—not a wince or a yelp—nothing but smiling stoicism, which roused me more than even the touch of her soft skin.

  “Like this?”

  “Yes!” Her reply was emphatic. “Yes, please, Master!”

  I spanked her harder, alternating the smacks against each tantalizing cheek, watching the way each spank reverberated before moving to the next.

  “How long have you wanted this, Tara Levinson?”

  The question echoed around us between the sound of each impact.

  “How long have you dreamed about this?”

  “Master.” She sounded desperate, her knees splaying as she ground her sex against me.

  “Tell me.” I swatted her harder, finally eliciting a gasp from her lips. “Tell me how long this need has plagued your dreams.”

  “I don’t know,” she blurted the words out as I rained the strikes down against her. Her flesh was coloring, turning a pretty pink beneath my palm. “Always.”

  “And you still dream about it?” My hand halted, resting against the heated flesh of her ass. “Even today, even now, as you sleep, Tara, this is what fills your dreams?”

  She panted, once again twisting to try to catch my eyes. Her brow furrowed, her thoughts confirming her bewilderment.

  “Oh, yes,” I assured her in a knowing tone. “This is a dream, little mortal. Nothing more than a sweet façade created by your mind to lull you.”

  “Oh.” Tara slumped over me, her tone despondent. “I didn’t…”

  “You thought it was real?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “It could be, Tara.” I grinned, skimming my hand down her leg again. “Just say the word, and this could be our reality.”

  Her muscles tensed across me. “I’d like that.”

  “Up you get then.” I shifted, helping her body to rise to an upright position until she straddled me. Her face flamed as she regarded me. “That is better.”

  “You’d actually spank me, Master?” Her gaze lowered briefly as if the enormity of the things she said had just resonated. “For fun, I mean?”

  I wanted to chuckle at her performance.

  “Of course, I’d spank you,” I clarified. “Hell, I love that shit.” I laughed, unable to hold in the rising emotion. “Remember where all your most scrumptious desires originate, Tara. We are the genesis of those fantasies. The pleasure belongs to us.”

  Her lips parted. “And if I upset you?” Her voice had dropped to scarcely a whisper now. “Would you spank me then—in anger?”

  “I would not hurt you.” I leaned toward her, guiding my hands beneath her ass, and lifting her, so she pressed against my body. “You belong to me.”

  “Oh.” That frantic, breathy tone was back—the one that called to my cock.

  “Oh?” My hand lifted to her face, lifting her chin, which stubbornly dropped, ensuring she met my gaze. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing.” Her eyes widened as I forced her attention back to me. “Nothing, Master. I’m just…” She paused, looking for the right words. “I’m just trying to understand.”

  “Let me get this straight,” I chuckled as my fingers slid into her hair. “You want me to hurt you?”

  “No,” her tone was imploring. “No, Master. That’s not it, it’s just, sometimes, I look for the pain. I wonder if I don’t need it.”

  My lips curled into a smirk. Naturally, I was aware of all her dirty depravities, having seen them in her mind, but hearing those things from her lips was tantamount to glorious.

  “If you need it, I’ll give it to you, Tara, but not in anger.” I shook my head with a smile. “You have no idea how powerful my wrath can be. I never want you at the brunt of that.”

  The power of that quandary burned within me, replacing what might have been my heart, had I actually had one. How could a creature like me be capable of such cruelty with one stroke of his claw, yet so tender with another? I had wanted to tear Gavin apart, but now I chose to soothe Tara. It was more than perplexing. It was disconcerting.

  “Yes, Master. I don’t ever want to see that side of you, either.”

  Our gazes locked, mine conveying the sincerity in my words. “I mean it,” I murmured. “I can be the very definition of monstrous when I want to be. I can cut you into pieces, but that is not what I want, little mortal.”

  Oh crap. Her thoughts came in loud and clear, though her expression remained impressively impassive. Oh God. What have I got myself into?

  It is okay. I sent the reassuring instruction back to her. You are safe, Tara. You are mine now.

  Her eyes were doleful, but I saw the shift in them, the moment when she relaxed, and tension eased from her shoulders.

  “You represent something different—something good. You did right from the start, and that is what I want. I will not lose sight of that.”

  “Yes, Master.” She hesitated, and I could see the query in her eyes even before it reached her mouth. “But you’ll still spank me, though?”

  Laughing, I slipped one hand from under her ass and struck it playfully.

  “Spank you?” I arched an eyebrow at her. “I’ll make sure you can’t sit down for days.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tara

  I opened my eyes, expecting to be back in the bed with Solomon, but a charred brown-and-red landscape met my eyes. Shocked, I leapt from where I was sprawled, realizing too late I’d been perched on the edge of what looked like a high ravine. Throwing my hands forward, I clawed for the edge of the rock, but my weight was already unbalanced. Heart hammering, I acknowledged the awful truth.

  I was going to fall.

  I was going to fall into God only knew what, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  “Where are you going?”

  Solomon’s words floated from behind me, but a moment later, his firm grasp caught the back of my arms and steadied me.

  Gasping, my head fell forward, my gaze momentarily taking in the dark abyss below before I was yanked backward into his embrace.

  “Master!”

  A well of nausea rose in my chest, and I spun quickly, flinging myself at him. Wrapping my arms around his middle, I squeezed so hard, I worried about cutting off his air supply before I remembered that wouldn’t be a problem for Solomon.

  “Where are we?” I panted into his bare chest. “I thought I was going to wake up.”

  “You will.” His voice was soft, intentionally lulling. “And in a way, you have. I just wanted to show you something about the place I come from. I though
t it could be a place to punish you since that’s what you so desperately seek.”

  I lifted my head to find that tantalizing eyebrow cocked at his own question, and despite my racing heart, arousal pooled between my legs. Fuck it, I almost plummeted to my death, and now, he was turning me on? This was crazy! How was I ever going to keep up?

  “You are not,” he assured me with a smile. “And you were not going to die, Tara. I would not have let that happen.”

  Grasping his muscular bicep, I exhaled, allowing the gesture to center me. He was right. Of course, Solomon was right. If he’d wanted to kill me, he could have done it a thousand times over already. Why would he have gone to all this trouble just to terminate my life? Why would he have dealt with Gavin, then taken me to bed? Why would he have brought me here?

  I glanced around quickly, peering into the burned background. What was this place? Was this hell?

  “So many questions, little mortal.” Solomon laughed lightly. “So much always going on in that beautiful head of yours.”

  “I’m sorry.” I pressed my forehead against him as I spoke, my word sincere. I had always overthought everything. It was one of my many failings.

  “Do not be.” His voice was firmer. “I am not judging you, just observing. Every place I have taken you so far has just been another version of our reality.”

  I blinked at him, my brow furrowing. “Master, I don’t understand.”

  His face lit up into a handsome grin.

  “It’s simple. This place, the room we share, they are all dimensions of reality I have carved out just for you. Neither of them is real in the sense of the world you know, but both exist.”

  My head hurt, trying to wrap itself around his explanation.

  “So, this isn’t hell?”

  He laughed again. “It’s one version of hell, but not the fiery idea of perdition you mean, no.” Lifting one palm, he cradled the back of my head. “Hell can mean many things to many people.”

  “I had no idea,” I admitted. “I just assumed it was one place.”

  “Mortals always do.” Solomon shook his head. “There are too many assumptions in your world.”