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

by Felicity Brandon

  I had believed him.

  “You are correct on both counts, yet once more, you worry for no reason. Leave these concerns to me, Tara. You shall accompany me, and you shall be very much alive. I will be with you to ensure both elements are maintained.”

  My gaze lowered, despite the fist still lodged in my hair. He didn’t want to kill me then. I was yet to live.

  “As you wish.”

  “Indeed,” he agreed, shaking his head as though he couldn’t believe my thoughts. “And it is imperative we leave right away. My master wishes to meet you before he departs.”

  Whatever panic I’d experienced at the thought of my untimely death was dwarfed by the swell of dread in my chest.

  “He wants to meet me?” I could scarcely get the words out. “B-but why? I am nothing. I am no one.”

  Once more, Solomon’s hand shifted, releasing the tension in my hair, and skimming my skin until he cupped my chin.

  “No one?” His brow knitted. “How can you say such a thing? You are the mortal who captured me. Through all the ages of man I have roamed, I have squandered and indulged, and never once have I thought to keep one of you. Mortals were always such disposable pleasures to me, but not now, Tara. Your need for revenge has altered that. You have changed it.”

  The ache in my head morphed, threatening to turn into a migraine if I wasn’t careful.

  “I-I don’t know what to say,” I stammered. “Please understand, I can’t meet your master. What could someone like me have to say to such a powerful demon?” My voice quivered at the thought alone.

  “Is that all that concerns you?” he asked with a taunting laugh. “What you will say to him?” He leaned down, pressing his lips against my mouth. “If I were you, little mortal, I would say nothing. Nothing unless I was required to answer. I would do nothing except demonstrate obedience.”

  I closed my eyes as he kissed me, permitting my senses to cede to the brute’s sensuality. If things came to pass as he’d warned, I would need these fleeting moments of intimacy to cling to. Once I was standing in the dark abyss of perdition, once the sunlight was banished altogether, I would long for it.

  “You can do that, can you not?” His question vibrated past my ears as he drew away. “You can be my obedient, little mortal, and do as I say?”

  I looked up into his unblinking eyes, and one thing was certain. If Solomon was taking me to hell, I would do everything he said, anything he instructed. He was my ticket out once this visit was over.

  “Yes, Master.”

  His lips curled, and the muscles of my sex clenched in response.

  “Yes, I’ll be good.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Solomon

  Her mind was racing, full of the anxieties and insecurities mortals always seemed to carry, yet I heard the words as they escaped her sweet lips. She was prepared to be my obedient little mortal—she would be good—and for now, that was enough.

  I could curtail her with fear if I had to, but I did not desire it. Fear was a physiological response to the presence of danger, and usually, my presence alone would inspire it, but it had rarely been that way with Tara. Sure, I had known her heart to hammer so fast, I thought she would lose consciousness, but her pulse also quickened at my touch, her heart pounding out of control when I took her into my arms. There was always more than fear with Tara. There was yearning as well, a reminder of how this unholy union had come to be. It was she who had summoned me from the dusty pages of those old books, she who’d coveted my help and protection.

  Everything I had done had been for her.

  This was no regular demonic possession.

  For that reason alone, I believed her when she pledged to be well-behaved, and she would need to be. While I always considered myself an ancient cynic, Tara would find Satan much more difficult to impress with the bat of her eyelids and the salacious need in her gaze.

  Of all my kind, he was the true Master.

  “We should leave,” I whispered, already sensing the tension my words evoked in her body.

  “Already?” She fluttered those tantalizing eyes at me. “I thought there would be more time, Master. Time for us before we had to go.”

  My gaze narrowed at her flirtatious tone. Even at this moment of departure, when she literally stood at the brink of hell, lust clouded her mind.

  “Yes,” I said firmly. “And remind me to keep you away from Master Asmodeus. He is going to love you.”

  Puzzlement was written all over her face. “Wasn’t he the one you gave Gavin to, Master?”

  “He was,” I replied with encouragement, pleased she recalled something of the inner workings of the pit I called home. “Remember, there is an order to hell, and Asmodeus, like my Master, is one of the seven princes who govern there.”

  “And he likes lust?” Her voice was small, like a child trying to figure out a riddle.

  “Yes, he does,” I praised. “More than most. Asmodeus is the overlord of lust. Each prince has jurisdiction over one sin.”

  She nodded, though the color had drained from her face. “And yours is anger, Master?”

  “My Master is the overload of wrath, yes.” I was tired of explaining but knew a mortal as bright as Tara would need the comprehension. I was plucking her from the only world she had ever known and delivering her into Hell. I supposed it was the least she deserved. “It was your simmering anger that drew me to you that first time.”

  “I think I understand.” She bit her lip, the gesture hardening my cock on reflex. “Yes, please keep me away from him, Master.”

  “Asmodeus?” I clarified with a chortle. The trepidation etched into her expression was priceless.

  “Yes,” she replied with a squeal. “I should not wish to bump into him… or Gavin.”

  “Tara.” Her name was a sigh. “What have I told you about worrying?”

  “Not to be troubled,” she answered in a heartbeat. She wrung her hands, a small blush blooming at her cheeks. “I’m sorry, but all of this makes me uneasy. How can I help it?”

  Pressing back against her, my arms snaked around her waist.

  “It sounds as if I shall need to give you something else to worry about, little mortal.”

  Her gaze widened, her tempting mouth parting before she thought better of answering back, and she closed her lips once more.

  “What do you say to that?” I arched my eyebrow at her, knowing already how well she responded to the deed, reveling in the way she squirmed under my gaze. Shifting her weight one foot to the other, her face began to color an even deeper hue.

  “Just that I have promised to be good, and I will try to be.”

  My excitement burgeoned at her plaintive tone. Tara was such a hot proposition, Master Asmodeus would likely have been very happy to claim her, but that was too bad. It was me she called to that first day and me who responded to her plea. I seduced her, had offered her spiritual vengeance, dealing with her odious stepfather, and I was the one taking her down to Hell with me at Satan’s request. Whatever Asmodeus’ inclinations, he could not have Tara.

  She was mine.

  “That is pleasing to know.” I smiled down at her, grasping the delicious orbs of her ass with one palm. “It is time we readied you for our journey.”

  Her breath caught, the tension returning to her body in one fell swoop.

  “What must I do, Master? Is there something I should wear?”

  “You will wear whatever I command. I had thought, once my master departs, that should be as little as possible, so you are available for my every lustful whim, but perhaps we should plan otherwise for your meeting with Satan.”

  She panted, nodding while I squeezed her behind.

  “Satan?” She gulped. “Y-yes. I think that’s a good idea.”

  My lips twitched at her response to the name of my master—a name all mortals feared intuitively.

  “Something provocative,” I decided with a smile. “Something that shows off your gorgeous body.”


  I took a step back, appraising her. In so many ways, it was a shame to have to alter her appearance. I would have been more than happy to keep her tempting form naked, but it was not right for what lay ahead. I wanted Satan to approve of my choice, but not change his mind about taking what belonged to me. He was my master—as close to a father figure as a demon could muster—and the beast had always been there for me. He supported me and offered guidance when I faltered. His opinion mattered to me, and there was no point in denying it.

  I wanted him to look favorably upon my choice.

  “Close your eyes.” My voice was louder, and as I raised my hand, I could sense the dark power encircling us.

  Tara complied with a small sigh, squeezing her eyes closed at the same moment my magic mushroomed.

  “M-master?” She sounded concerned, afraid even.

  “Wait.”

  The order was curter than I’d intended, but it did the trick, ensuring she stayed where I wanted her as I willed her new outfit into existence. Slowly, as though the outfit was putting on a show for me, I watched as the catsuit emerged, wrapping Tara’s body in a skin-tight layer of leather. The neck plunged south to reveal a glimpse of her pert breasts, despite the band which wrapped at her neck like a collar. Completing a satisfied circuit of her body, I devoured the look of the low backline, which also managed to reveal just a tantalizing view of her ass before stretching down over her long legs. Of course, it would be a headache to fuck her while she wore it, but I could conjure away the bodice and crotch with one flick of my wrist, leaving her exposed and helpless. For the time being, it was perfect.

  “Look at you!” I grinned as I took in the view of her from the front again. “My master is going to adore you like this.”

  She glanced down at herself warily. “I-I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “Ah, but you have never met the Prince of Hell before, have you, little mortal?”

  “No, Master,” she agreed in a husky tone reminiscent of the one she gasped during sex. She lifted her chin, catching her lip between her teeth. “No, I haven’t.”

  I laughed at her response.

  Ready or not, it was time for Tara to meet my master.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tara

  It all happened so fast. It took time for my brain to fully register Solomon’s intent, the fact he was intending to drag me down to hell with him—to meet Satan, no less—but as the idea resounded, things unraveled in an instant. Transformed into the hot-red leather ensemble, which he produced from thin air before commanding it to envelop my body, he whisked me away from the room I’d spent so many happy hours.

  It wasn’t the first time my devilish lover had snatched me through time and space. He had transported me this way on more than one occasion, from the time he brought me to the place Gavin was set to be tormented to the first time I’d arrived in the room which had become my world. The experience itself wasn’t new, but this time, it seemed different as the black energy swirled around us.

  Reaching for him, I clasped his arm as the dark breeze picked up its pace, whipping around us until everything was a blur of black light. Anxiety tightened in my belly, and I closed my eyes, trying to block out the eerie view, but it was still in my head—the exact same scene my eyelids had just extinguished—and now, that view was shifting. Out of the darkness, I saw gray faces, their eyes black and unblinking, alongside hands which reached toward me with urgent, grasping fingers. Then there was the noise—the horrendous sound of their whimpering yells and strangled screams as they grappled in the darkness.

  “Solomon.”

  Whatever this was, whatever these tortured images were, they were not normal. They were not human.

  “Open your eyes.” His voice was like honey, smooth and comforting, a stark contrast to the dread threatening to consume me. “You are safe, little mortal. You are with me. Open your eyes.”

  It took every ounce of my courage to force my lids open, knowing the reality of what they’d survey would be identical to the cruel, terrifying images in my mind, but this time, I wouldn’t be able to fool my mind into thinking it was all a dream.

  This time, it would be real.

  My throat dried as my eyes opened, the whirling, rushing sensation, making me lightheaded until I locked gazes with him. Then, even though I knew the force continued around me—even though I could still hear the anguished screams of the tormented souls who grabbed for me, desperate for help, for revenge, for salvation—a sudden quiet stillness filled me, and my racing heart began to settle.

  You are okay.

  He didn’t say the words aloud, but I heard them, his dulcet tone dampening out all the terrible cries which permeated the air until all there was in the world was his voice and a thick, velvety silence.

  Pay them no heed. I do not even see them anymore.

  “Who are they?”

  I don’t know why I asked because, in my heart, I already knew. They were the souls of those vanquished to Hell—they had to be—and that terrible noise was the chorus of the collective misery, the melody of hell.

  “Your instincts are right.” He pulled me closer in the blackness, whispering the words into my ear. “You know who they are, but they cannot harm you.”

  I trembled despite his reassurances, the thought of the reality he described resounding with disturbing quality.

  “What do they want?”

  “To be free. To be liberated from the bondage of an eternity of damnation.” He sighed, almost amused. “The usual types of things.”

  “And you don’t hear them, Master?” Tipping my chin to look up at his face, I found the darkness had devoured it. His features were consumed with black, though I knew he was still there with me.

  “I hear them, but I do not care for them. Their pain is meaningless, their pleas lost on the winds of perdition. For those souls who are condemned to this servitude, there can be no second chances.”

  Pulling in a deep breath, I rested my temple against his chest. I had assumed as much when Solomon had spoken of Gavin’s fate, but being here—seeing and hearing those frantic faces for myself—was something else. Those distorted visages would haunt me forever, there would be no escaping them.

  “Ready yourself.” His tone had hardened. “I am going to take you straight to my master. Usually, newcomers enter past the sentries and hellfire, but there is no need for such tribulations for you, little mortal. You are with me.”

  There was hardly time to process that information. All at once, the black, suffocating, swirling energy around us vanished, and my feet were balanced on a hard, rocky surface. Lifting my head from Solomon’s body, I peered around. The place looked like a huge, stony cavern, lit only by ethereal fires, which manifested in the most peculiar positions around the place. One floated in mid-air to my right, the flames rising high into the dark air, and as I glanced around, there were others, similarly producing light with no logical reasoning for their being or location. I shivered, my brain telling me a place as large and dank as this one should be damp and cold, but that didn’t seem to be right. As I adjusted, I realized it wasn’t the cold my body sensed, but low, oppressive heat, and with it, my nostrils breathed in the strange, spicy air around me. I had no idea if it was actually air, but the odd scent of aniseed prevailed, the aroma making me giddy again.

  Solomon’s hands shifted to either side of my face, his large palms steadying me and drawing my attention back to his gaze.

  “Are you well?”

  I nodded as best I could. “I feel a bit dizzy.”

  My voice was unusually distant and sounded scratchy like I’d been suffering a sore throat, but I seemed fine before we’d come here. I gazed into his dark eyes, searching them for the solace I needed to get me through this, the oddest of the trials he’d set for me so far.

  “You are acclimatizing,” he explained. “Mortals do not normally come here until they have passed, then we have no regard for their well-being. You are quite special, Tara.�
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  “Indeed, she is.”

  Had Solomon not been holding me, I would have crumpled at the sound of the voice booming through the air behind my master. It was like nothing I’d known before—a thunderous, monstrous growl, which could shake the whole planet with only one snarl. My hands tightened their grip on Solomon’s arms.

  “My master is here.” His gaze was knowing as he stared down at me. “But you have nothing to fear from him.”

  My lips parted, but I could scarcely pull in another breath of the sickly air. Catching my lips between my teeth, I blinked up at Solomon, trying to get a handle on my scattering thoughts.

  “You inspire fear, Master.” Solomon smiled with the observation, but he didn’t let go of me, one hand falling to my middle to draw me beside him as he turned. “But then, we already knew that.”

  As Solomon compelled my body to spin, my gaze landed on the other being with us. I didn’t know what I expected him to be, this overlord, the leader of hell, but it wasn’t the face which glowered back at me. Perhaps the old church fables that depicted Satan as a red, fiery demon with horns and a forked tail had permeated deeper into my mind than I’d realized, but the creature that met my gaze was nothing like that caricature. He was fine—heart-stoppingly fine—beautiful, really, and as my gaze widened, his lips curled into the most dazzling smile.

  “I am not so sure that is fear,” he said, sauntering in my direction. “Bewilderment, perhaps, but not outright fear, my old friend.”

  Solomon chuckled. “She was expecting something else, I think, another guise.”

  “You did not tell her?” The stranger turned to Solomon, his voice softer, now that he was closer. “That I would also manifest in this human form for her.”

  “No, Master.” I could hear the smile in Solomon’s voice. “I did not mention it.”

  “Then let me introduce myself to the lady.” One long stride was all it took for him to be in front of me, long chestnut locks falling into his eyes as he smiled down. “I am Satan.” He grinned, and just like Solomon, he revealed the most impressive set of white teeth I’d ever seen before. “You have heard of me, of course?”