Like her mother told her, keep it inside. She tried to gather the magic bubbling in her veins like champagne gulped down, but the wild feel of Daemon’s power wasn’t easily corralled.
Her body sagged back against his and he accepted her weight without complaint.
She kept control over her thoughts, didn’t let the lightning join their minds again.
It was an effort.
She moaned and twisted as the lightning overrode her modesty, fighting the need to let it escape. She was far too focused on keeping her mental barrier up to control her body’s reaction.
His blood felt like it was priming her from the inside out.
“Greedy witch,” he admonished, but there was no mistaking the lust thickening his voice.
He was getting as primed as her.
He finished with her tattoo and pulled her back further onto the bed, spooning her while she rode out the magical high.
Her rumpled dress was half shed around her hips, restricting her legs. Only a thin chemise kept her upper half covered.
He stroked her side as her tremors settled into shivers and finally her body relaxed.
“You’re the first witch to taste me,” he told her. “Demon blood has too much unbound magic for most witches to absorb, without overloading their blood’s ability to bind it.”
He stroked down her arm.
She shivered as the magic seemed to rise behind his touch and tingle along his finger’s path.
Was this what he felt like all the time, potential screaming to be let out, skin too tight, and bones too frail to contain it?
She sank back into his embrace, glad to have him anchoring her.
It made sense now that he hadn't fed her some of his blood earlier to cement the claim, like other witches and vampires. Why demons didn't have harems or claims at all.
His fingers travelled along her hips, tugging her dress down. Welcomed, cool air kissed her sweaty skin.
She realized how overheated her room had become. She let him help her kick out of the heavy gown.
“You’re not most witches,” he commented, pulling her back tighter against him.
Her old-fashioned drawers weren’t much protection from his large, warm body, cocooning her from behind.
He bared her neck, sweeping her hair up onto the pillow.
She shivered again and hoped he’d mistake it for the cold.
He knew she was different, but did he suspect why she could absorb his magic?
“You’re not most demons,” she said, redirecting him.
He chuckled again against the nape of her neck and the fine hairs there tickled with his laughter. Her nipples hardened. He traced the tattoo on her shoulder again with deliberate slowness and she knew he was aware of what he was doing to her body.
She wondered how he would respond if she turned her head and reached behind to bring his mouth to hers.
Why had she been so resistant to his overtures?
He had already promised not to bite. She could have his body and the memory of being held by a protective male, strong enough to fight her darkest demons.
It wasn’t forever, but sometimes one night was all that mattered.
First Times Hurt
How to seduce a demon?
She leaned into him, letting her scantily clad bottom rub against his hardness.
“What do you want from me?” he asked, his tone nonchalant for a demon with his dick riding her ass.
Didn’t he understand she was teasing him? He’d seemed ready to service her, had even brought the subject up. She was throwing herself at him, again.
Perhaps, he was the clueless type?
She cleared her throat, preparing herself to ask for his body more clearly.
“Do you want me to feed you magic every night?” he asked before she could make her naughtier demand.
He was still focused on their blood claim.
“Witches don’t feed,” she said, disappointed. Her confidence was wavering. Maybe he didn’t want her body?
“You can,” he insisted. “Just a drop or two. It might come in handy, in case you run into the twins again.”
It took her a moment to realize he was referring to his half-siblings. He was so clever, asking her things while caressing her with his body wrapped halfway around hers.
It was dangerous to let him tease her into relaxing her guard. He could seduce himself into her mind if she wasn’t careful.
She had to deal with this claim between them before she considered asking for him to fuck her brains out.
“A drop or two,” she agreed, a little annoyed that he had spied on her. If he knew about Phillip, he was keeping that quiet. “It’s only to reinforce the claim.”
She didn’t want to be caught without protective magic again. So many of her other strengths were too risky to use yet, and the castle was more dangerous than her family had realized.
“Every night,” he insisted. “All those walks you take might result in draining the claim faster than I expected. The twins could have hurt you.”
Oh, his tone was getting heated again. It wasn’t the sexy kind of heat, either.
“That was an accident,” she excused. “The twins were horsing around with me when I tripped and fell onto Prince Victor. He tried to catch me, and then my shoulder started burning,” she lied.
She couldn’t believe she just used the ‘I fell onto it’ excuse. Too late to modify the lie now.
“Accidental?” Daemon asked. “You were playing?”
He sounded disbelieving, which she expected.
“It won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t, sweetheart,” he said in what sounded like another threatening promise with an ‘or else’ tacked on.
He licked the tattoo, so close to her neck, now that he had enlarged it, and then licked again, tracing the other vampire’s fang marks. They were nearly healed.
Normally the healing from a bite would have taken longer. It must have something to do with the claim.
She remembered Daemon’s fantasy of feeding on her there, picturing his fangs piercing her.
He had promised not to bite unless she invited him. Begged him, he had taunted her, earlier.
She refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her ask him for anything, even if she was very curious about what it would be like to have Daemon feed on her.
Would her blood make him as wild as his blood had made her?
“You promise?” Daemon asked, reminding her that they were having a conversation. He was trying to extract something that would bind her even closer than the claim alone. “A little of my blood, every night, to build your magic,” he said, lightly stroking her side, brushing tantalizingly close to the underside of her breast.
She felt like she was making a deal with the devil.
He wasn’t allowing her any time to think about this, playing with her body while he demanded concessions.
“I don’t know,” she honestly answered.
“Why not?” he asked.
His hand moved to her tummy, dipping to play with the thin silk over her navel.
Mostly, she worried about him being able to track her better by her taking his blood.
It was supposed to work if she was injured or in danger, but his claim on her shoulder already bonded them.
Would feeding even minute amounts of his blood strengthen their connection, so he could find her anywhere?
She couldn’t ask him because then he would want to know what she was doing that she was worried about being tracked.
There was the little problem of his blood facilitating access to his thoughts as well.
“I don't really know you,” she said. “There should be a courtship.” He tugged her drawers down, dangerously exposing the upper curves of her bottom. “You shouldn't be here, undressing me, kissing, feeding—”
He pulled her against his unmistakable arousal.
Her protests cut off.
He most definitely was aware o
f her rubbing up against him earlier.
“I tried to play by the rules, but you made that very difficult.” He thrust a little harder against her when she didn't pull away. “If you want me to be your dark secret, I will,” he said, sounding disappointed. “But I won't lie to you. I told you that you were mine. Don't you lie to me, either.” He tugged her drawers down the rest of the way, over her hips. “At least your body is honest.”
Screw protocols!
She reached back and tugged his head down to her neck. The tattoo lit up as his scruffy chin brushed against it, stubble scraping the sensitive skin into overdrive.
Her magic sparked harmlessly, but she knew he would assume it was from the tattoo’s magic.
“Do you know what a claim means?” he whispered, licking back up to her ear and delicately nipping the lobe. He sucked the gentle hurt into his mouth to soothe.
“It means I only feed you,” she said, leaning back into him.
He had fed her his lightning. He would never know if she let him bite her again. She could let him taste her without worry.
“That is the court protocol, but it isn’t what a claim really means,” he said, letting go of her ear to nibble her neck again.
His fangs scraped along a tense cord of muscle in her neck as she twisted against him.
She dug her heels into the bed and leaned back even more and he pushed, his hard body not giving an inch to her, his fangs not penetrating.
“Just bite me, already,” she complained.
He was the worst sort of tease, his body signalling danger and desire, while he prattled on about protocol and responsibility.
Any respectable demon would have sunk his fangs into her already. Then, he would fuck her. He wouldn’t be able to resist, riding the high of his feed.
He groaned against her neck but still didn’t bite.
“A claimed witch is protected,” he said. “No other vampire or demon feeds from her because she has this defence against unwanted bites. She can offer her blood to the one protecting her, but the claim does not obligate it.”
“Not about obligation,” she panted, trying to reach behind her further to pull him on top of her.
She shamelessly pressed back against him. Her blood felt like it was on fire, but it didn’t burn. He heated her everywhere, the nerves he sensitized with his magic and his hands making the slightest touch hotter.
Daemon had primed her for feeding on purpose, but she was beyond caring.
“Just feed. Please,” she begged.
He pushed her down on the bed to lie on her tummy, giving some space between his arousal and her grinding.
She couldn’t be the only one primed if he needed space.
He stroked a hand down her side to rest on her ass.
She pushed up against his heavy hand with an indrawn breath. His fingers were inches from where she needed them.
“I can’t protect you if you hide things from me,” he said.
She froze.
“I don't want to punish you,” he said, hand stroking her soft, generous curves.
She clenched the cheeks under his caress.
What? This had taken a sudden turn.
“You wouldn't dare,” she told him, fighting to get up as she clued in that he had something else planned for tonight.
Was this what he warned her about once he got her undressed?
He held her down with one big hand at the small of her back.
“Consider this a preview of what I’ll do if you endanger yourself again.”
He was going to spank her! As if she was a child to be punished.
“Let me go, you bastard!” she yelled.
“You accepted my right to protect you with the claim,” he said, calm and resolute.
His hand rested with firm promise on her bum.
She squirmed, but he had her pinned down. She was still aroused and the bondage with his hands forcing her down sharpened it.
Her body didn’t understand the threat. She was possibly, embarrassingly turned on by the thought of him smacking her ass.
He really didn’t need to figure that out.
She had fantasied about him being a strong, alpha male, powerful enough to combat her enemies.
She just hadn’t considered how he might turn the tables on her.
“I asked you to accept my blood to strengthen your magic and our bond, but you want to fight me on this like everything else,” he said, spelling out her crime.
He was saying she was headstrong, leaping into danger without looking first. Her mother would agree with him.
His hand seemed to get hotter and heavier. The wait was agonizing.
She squirmed under his hold, trying to ignore how good his hand felt as he pulled her drawers down further to her knees and gave her a little swat.
It barely stung, but the sound of his hand on her flesh was electrifying.
“You said there was no obligation!” she yelled at him.
“To let me feed on you,” he clarified. “If I don't feed on you, it wouldn't affect the protection provided by the claim, but if you refuse to feed on me, then my protection will be weakened.”
She bucked. “Witches don't feed!”
He gave the first real spank to settle her bucking. It stung without her drawers for protection.
“Most witches don't burn through the claim’s protective magic in a day by finding so much trouble,” he said. “And all witches need a drop or two of blood to reinforce the claim once the ink’s initial magic is used.” He rubbed her stinging bum but didn't let her up. Warmth spread from where his hand smacked her. “How do you know so little about claiming?”
“Fuck off!” she swore at him.
Her mother had briefly told her about claiming, but as she didn’t expect to be claimed, she hadn't paid it that much attention.
There were a million other details she had to learn about vampire society.
He spanked her. It was harder.
She gasped in shock, but he didn't let up. The smack had gone right to her core, making her clench her thighs. She was so wet.
The spanking was even more humiliating because it turned her on so much.
“For a witch, even one from the edge, you are woefully naive. It won’t be allowed to continue, putting yourself at risk with only air for protection. I’ve claimed you. The duty to keep you safe, while you learn all the things your mother seems to have neglected in your education, will fall upon my shoulders and hands,” Daemon said, rubbing the sting into her bottom to make his point.
“Are you saying my mother should have spanked me as a child?” Elizabeth asked, trying to squirm free.
He tightened his hold. “No, I would rather have the pleasure.”
Fuck, did he know exactly what he was doing to her?
“If you’re done playing, let me go,” she demanded.
“You will not confront Victor and Victoria on your own.” He spanked her. “You will not wander alone in the castle.” He spanked her. “Or outside.” He spanked her. “You will not let yourself be caught vulnerable, without magic.”
He stopped as suddenly as he had started, rubbing the sting again.
His fingers rested dangerously close to feeling her response to his spanking. If he touched her there, just once, she was going to orgasm.
“You will let me feed you magic and you will train to handle any demon or vampire.”
She bucked his hand off of her ass.
This time, he let her go.
She jumped out of the bed, yanked her drawers up, and swore again.
He wasn't getting away with such high-handed behaviour.
She glared at him from the safe distance of a couple of feet, resisting rubbing her bottom.
She was angry and aroused. He’d made it impossible to do anything about the latter.
He was right about human males not being like vampires and demons. No boy she had been with in the human realm would ever dream of spanking her.
She had only
a few rushed encounters, too afraid of revealing her power accidentally, to really relax for more than a missionary poke.
It had been over so quickly that she never finished like the boys who grunted over her.
Neither of them had finished this time.
She may be wet, but she was still aching.
He was so big and hard that his pants were pulled from their perilous perch at his hips. He was unabashedly and fully aroused, with his cock outlined as he rose up on his knees on the bed.
He was practically posing for her, one strong hand reaching lazily across his washboard abs to hook a thumb under his waistband and tug the stretched material of his pants up an inch.
His fingers had only to drop a little lower and he would be cupping himself in front of her.
He would look so damn hot jerking himself off.
She licked her dry lips, nibbling the lower one.
She was going to be thinking about him kneeling, ready to serve her, as he had put it, while she slept alone.
If she took a few steps back towards the bed, she knew he would have her drawers back down before she could finish saying his name.
He had spanked her. She was not getting back into bed with him.
“I don't remember signing up for your kinky shit with the claim,” she said, forcing her eyes off of his dick.
He crawled over her side of the bed, closing the distance. It was so fucking sexy.
He watched her the whole time he crawled, his dark eyes giving her such a sizzling look that she should have combusted on the spot.
“I can see you don't know much about claims,” he sleepily drawled.
She wasn’t fooled. He was far from relaxed and she dare not get closer.
“No vampire would ever—”
“But you didn't agree to a claim with a vampire,” he cut her off and reminded her. “Come over here,” he said, patting the bed beside him.
“If you think I’m going to let you touch me again, you're delusional.” She pointed to the door. “Get out,” she demanded.
“I want you,” he told her.
“Too bad you didn't think of that before.”
“Oh, I thought about it,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
He was off the bed and in front of her before she could blink. He backed her into a bedpost.
Every Witch Demon but Mine (Maeren Series Book 1) Page 26