Claimed by a Demon King

by Felicity Heaton

  He wanted to bite her neck, wanted to show the world that she belonged to him, but he wasn’t averse to sinking his fangs into her breast and drinking from there too.

  His cock throbbed at the thought and he eased his fangs into the soft curve of her breast. She jerked against him, her cry of pleasure loud in the quiet room, and the connection between them overflowed with her bliss. Thorne groaned and gently sucked, drawing her essence into his mouth. Warmth flowed into him, tangy yet sweet, filling his senses until he felt hazy and lost, drugged by the taste of her. He swallowed the small amount and shuddered, a bolt of pleasure shooting down his spine to his cock, tightening his balls.

  Gods, he needed more.

  Thorne rose over her, pushing himself up her body, and buried his head into the crook of her neck. She moaned and rocked into him, and he growled at the obstruction separating them.

  Sable seemed to hate it too.

  She grabbed the waist of his leathers and pushed at them, unleashing a noise of sheer frustration when they didn’t budge.

  Thorne reached down, never breaking contact with her neck, kissing her and teasing her with light scrapes of his fangs, and shredded the laces on his leathers with his claws. He pulled his cock free, the cool air bliss against his hot hard flesh, and Sable shoved at his leathers again, pushing them down over his hips. She wriggled beneath him, her frustration mounting, beginning to dominate her emotions that flowed through their connection.

  He wanted her naked too, pressed against his flesh, bared for him. He wanted to seat himself to the hilt in her body and sink his fangs deep into her neck.

  He reluctantly left her throat, swearing he would return soon enough to finish what he had started and satisfy his need to claim her, to bury his fangs into her flesh and draw all that she was into him, linking them forever.

  Thorne sat back, grabbed the waist of her black combats and yanked them down without undoing them, forcing them over her hips and her thighs. She giggled and continued to wriggle, shifting her legs to help him. He pulled her boots off and then her trousers, and tossed them all on his floor.

  He froze as he stared down at his beautiful female, still holding her ankles. She lay nude and glorious before him, an angel with her black hair spread across his furs and firelight flickering across her smooth skin. The bite mark on her breast dripped a teasing trail of blood that glistened, calling to him, demanding he finish what they had started.

  “Naked,” she whispered and every part of him wanted to obey that commanded, craved the feel of her nude against him, her soft flesh pressing into his hard.

  He growled and shoved his leathers down to his knees and ended up falling rather ungracefully off the bed. Sable laughed and appeared above him on all fours, her smile contagious.

  Thorne’s faded when he caught sight of the twin beads of blood running down the curve of her breast, towards her nipple.

  A groan tore up his throat and he kicked his leathers off, shot to his knees and sucked the bloodied bud into his mouth. Sable moaned and inhaled sharply. His horns curled, flaring forwards, and his claws lengthened, the pressing need to have her growing too strong to deny. His wings itched beneath his skin, aching to burst free, and his fangs throbbed with a need to feel her flesh beneath them again.

  “Sable,” he growled, low and commanding, warning her that he was close to losing control.

  She rose above him, drawing him up with her, and held on to his shoulders. He devoured her breast, licking away the blood and sealing the puncture wounds, and trailed his lips upwards. He wanted her as wild and needy as he felt. Needed her maddened by desire, on the brink of losing control too.

  Thorne sank his fangs into his lower lip, drawing blood, grabbed her around the waist and kissed her hard. She pushed against him at first and then moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders. A heartbeat later and she was sucking greedily on his lip, drawing him into her, and the connection that burst into existence between them was staggering, almost taking him down to his knees. He could feel all of her, every emotion that danced through her as she tasted him and experienced the same connection awaken within her, and it awed him.

  Because he could feel her love for him.

  And it was endless.

  Beautiful.

  He shivered and kissed her harder, clutching the nape of her neck to keep her in place against his lips, to keep her drawing from him. Each drop of blood solidified the connection between them, the bond that would tie them forever once she acknowledged his words.

  He wanted to speak them, to complete the bond and the claiming, but needed the kiss more, needed the connection of being inside her.

  He lifted her left leg, holding it tucked close to his hip, and she moaned and reached between them. Her hot hand closed around his length, sending another shiver through him, and brought him down to her core. Thorne groaned in time with her as the head of his shaft wedged into her warmth.

  He grasped her hip and drove into her in one hard, deep thrust. Sable shuddered against him and bit his lip, tearing another moan from him. He clutched her as she kneeled on the bed before him and drove into her, relentless and deep, curling his hips to ensure that he reached every part of her. She grabbed his shoulders again and kissed him now, her lips clashing with his as he took her, driving them both towards release. Her breasts bounced against his chest, firm nipples rubbing his skin with each thrust of his cock into her.

  Thorne shifted his grip to her backside, digging his claws in as he lost himself to his urges and fighting to hold back some of his strength so he didn’t harm her. She pressed her nails into his scalp and clutched his left horn with her other hand, her kiss as fierce and relentless as his thrusts. He wedged his left knee against the bed beneath her, angling his hips, and she gasped as he plunged deeper, his pelvis slamming against her with each long stroke.

  “Thorne,” she whispered, a plea that she didn’t have to voice because he could feel her need, feel her creeping closer to release, and wouldn’t stop until he had brought her to the very edge and sent her tumbling over it with him.

  The connection between them relayed everything to him, heightening his own pleasure as their blood mingled, linking them together. He couldn’t take much more but neither could she.

  Her nails bit into his scalp as he shoved deep into her, slamming her down onto his length, and she tipped her head back and cried out as she came, her body quivering and milking him, drawing him deeper still.

  Thorne’s gaze zeroed in on her neck, his eyes blazing crimson, and he roared as his wings burst from his back, spanning the room, and he sank his throbbing fangs deep into her neck, marking her as his forever.

  The first touch of her blood on his tongue sent his balls clenching tight and release boiling up his length. He grunted, blinded by pleasure as he shot his seed into her welcoming body. She trembled in his arms, a high keening cry leaving her lips as she joined him, climaxing again.

  The feel of her flexing and clenching around his cock, and her quivering beneath his grip tore another release from him and he groaned into her throat, shaking all over as his length throbbed within her, his seed pulsing from him. A thousand fiery sparks skittered over his flesh with each pulse, searing his bones, and he could feel Sable tremble in time with them, could sense her experiencing the same blissful release.

  Thorne drank deep of her blood, drawing the life giving essence into him, ensuring the strongest bond possible existed between them. His cock continued to throb within her, spilling himself as she quivered around him, sending aftershocks of pleasure rippling through them both. His knees loosened with each one, with every tiny orgasm that detonated within him and within her.

  When he finally released her and drew back, her dazed gaze met his, a broad smile playing on her bloodied lips.

  His blood.

  He kissed it away, mingling them once more, and then forced himself to draw back so he could say the words that would complete their bond, linking them in eternity.

 
Thorne cupped her cheeks and kept her gaze on his, not giving her a chance to look away as he had in their vision. He stared deep into her golden eyes and whispered the binding words in the demon tongue.

  She stared blankly at him, her gaze holding his, never wavering. He could sense her nerves and uncertainty as if they were his own. He had to say it in the demon tongue, as was tradition for a mating, but now he could speak to her in her own language.

  “Sable… do you consent to become my mate, to take all that I am and give all that you are, in the eyes of the gods and eternity?”

  Her eyes glittered, relief and happiness pouring through their link, together with her love for him.

  It took a single word to make him feel he was the luckiest, and no doubt happiest, male in all the realms.

  “Yes.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Thorne was in Heaven.

  Sable lay in his arms, tucked close to his side, with her right leg hooked over his and her head on his chest. Her warm breath skittered across his pectorals and her fingertips traced patterns on his skin.

  They had lain like this for hours, exhausted from their lovemaking, sated and content to share the silence. The fire burning in the grate crackled.

  He wanted to stay like this forever, never leaving this cocoon of warmth and contentment.

  He needed to remain here, with his fated one in his arms, held close to him. Her heart beat softly, a gentle rhythm against his side, and she wriggled closer, until every inch of her lay flush against him.

  His for eternity.

  “This is nice,” she said on a sigh and he knew she meant every word. He could sense it in her. His female, his Sable, was enjoying this moment of quiet intimacy as much as he was.

  He grazed his fingers down her arm and frowned as they reached the silver cuff around her right wrist. He angled his head to get a better look at it as he stroked his fingertips over the cool bright metal.

  “Sable,” he whispered and she murmured in response. His touch lingered on the cuff, his gaze remaining locked there. “What made you join Archangel?”

  He hadn’t wanted to bring up Archangel, knowing it would make her think about her position and that it remained an obstacle between them, but the longer he held her, the more he realised he lacked knowledge about her position and didn’t know her reason for being with the demon-hunting organisation. He wanted to know everything about her.

  She shifted in his arms, rolling onto her front, so her breasts pressed against his chest and her right leg slid between his, threatening to wreck his concentration and stir his hunger for her.

  “I don’t know.” She gave a small lift of her shoulders. “I was fighting this guy… the same punk kid who got his claws into my leg.”

  “Why fight him?”

  “Because I could sense he wasn’t right. He was dangerous and he was going after a woman who didn’t have a damn clue. I saved her… but some other people called the police. They hauled me in and, well… Archangel set me free.” She walked her fingers over his chest, her gaze on them, a small frown marring her brow. “They asked me what happened and I told them. They realised that I could sense a faint difference between the demon and the mortals around him, and they recruited me… they convinced me I had a gift that could help them, and help people.”

  “You do have a gift,” he said and caught the flicker of hurt in her eyes as she glanced at him and then turned her face away. He sighed and captured her hand with his, stopping it from roaming his chest, and wrapped his other arm around her, anchoring her to him. “It is a gift that you have, Sable. Your powers—”

  “Came from some homicidal arsehole who ditched my mum and she ditched me. I used to like my gift. Archangel helped me. They put me through training programmes that increased that gift and I honestly believed it was a calling.” She lowered her head, pressing her lips and chin against his chest, and sighed. “I never questioned where it came from… and now I wish I didn’t know.”

  Thorne pulled her up to him and held her as he kissed her, wanting to chase away the hurt that had been in her voice and the pain he could feel beating in her heart.

  “I apologise,” he whispered against her lips. “I should not have asked.”

  She nuzzled his nose with hers and then shook her head and pushed herself up so she was looking down into his eyes.

  “It’s fine. I just… it’s all still a little new, and raw. I guess part of me always held on to hope that I would meet my parents one day and they would be proud of me… and looking back…” She heaved a sigh. “I think this all scares me because Archangel are like my family now. I wanted to be a commander, because I wanted them… hell, I wanted them to be proud of me.”

  “You wanted them to be the parents you never had.”

  She nodded and looked away again. “It’s stupid.”

  “There is no need to feel ashamed because you desired someone to look at you with pride in their eyes, to treat you special and tell you that you had done well and they were pleased.”

  She smiled and slid her gaze towards him. “Did your father ever do such a thing with you?”

  It was his turn to look away now and heave a sigh. He threw one hand above his head and tucked it beneath, tangling his fingers in his hair to stop himself from stroking his left horn.

  “I do not remember. He was often busy with the kingdom. I recall wanting him to be proud of me though… I still desire such a thing now.”

  “Thorne,” she started quickly and then softened her tone. Her gaze locked on his face and her fingers stroked lines over his chest. “I’m sure he is proud of you. You’re a good king… a great man. You don’t need to measure yourself against him. He reigned in a time of peace, and you’ve lived through a time of war, and your kingdom is still here… and if I have anything to say about it, it will still be here in centuries to come, and so will you.”

  The belief in her words struck him hard, bringing his eyes back to hers so he could see that faith reflected in their amber depths.

  “And I am certain that Archangel is proud of you—”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” she interjected and wrinkled her nose. “Mark… my superior… sort of had an air of unimpressed father when I was tending to you. He practically laid down the law. No mortal and demon relationships allowed.”

  She waggled her finger and scowled, and he presumed it was meant as an impression of her senior.

  “I almost mentioned that I wasn’t feeling particularly human. I don’t think Archangel would understand if they found out my father was probably an angel… I think they’d run experiments on me… like they wanted to run on Loren and Bleu.”

  He stroked her long black hair back from her face and then pinched her chin between his fingers and thumb, keeping her eyes on him.

  “I am proud of you. I have never met a female as strong, brave, skilled and determined as you are. I have witnessed you fight demons, deal with events that left you shaken and yet you refused to succumb to your fears, and I have seen you stand tall when your strength is questioned and prove your worth. I would place you in the ranks of my army as a commander without a second’s pause. If Archangel cannot see your worth and see that you are their ally, not their enemy, then that is their mistake, and their loss.” He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. “And I will never let them lay a finger on you.”

  She lifted her hand and stroked his horn, her fiery eyes glittering as she smiled down at him.

  “You’re becoming quite the poet, King Thorne. Maybe I should have let you closer before. You have a way of making me feel better about myself, and I like it.”

  “And I love you,” he whispered and grasped her bare backside, pulled her up his body and kissed her. She broke away too soon, pushing herself up and looking back down into his eyes. An angel. “And you are mine… my Sable… my queen.”

  She smiled again, beautiful and magical, enchanting him with the way it reached her eyes and spoke to his heart.

  “Your queen…
just like that? No ceremony?”

  “Ah, well. There is another part to the claiming. It requires a public ceremony. We must share blood and speak—”

  The bells tolled.

  Cold slithered down Thorne’s spine and he growled.

  He should have known that someone would dare to snatch this Heaven from him before he was ready to give it up and face the world.

  “That isn’t good, is it?” Sable pushed herself up onto her knees and he rose with her, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood.

  “The Fifth King approaches.” Thorne grabbed a new pair of thick black leather trousers from his drawers and tugged them on.

  Sable rushed around his room, gathering her clothes and throwing them on as quickly as she could. “I’ll need my weapons.”

  “We must make haste to the library and speak with the others first. There is time for us to prepare before we engage his army.” Thorne’s heart pounded at a sickening pace and he fought to control his nerves and the dark voices ringing in his head.

  He was a great man. A good king. His little female had told him as much and she believed in him.

  He paused to watch her as she struggled with her boots and she looked up at him, radiating confidence that was infectious.

  “Don’t be getting jittery on me now. I’ve seen you fight, Thorne, and I know your desire to protect your people runs deep, and I hate your traditions.”

  He frowned at that final one.

  She straightened, crossed the room to him and ran her hands over his chest as she tiptoed and brought her mouth close to his.

  “I’m fucking damned if I’m letting you fight that bastard alone. Screw your traditions. I’ll have your back and I’ll have my forever after with you, and you will just have to deal with it.”

  He grinned and swept her up into his arms, and kissed her as he dropped them through a portal, bringing them to the library. He had the impression many of the sacred traditions of his kind were going to end up ignored, overruled or altered by his fiery little fated one.