Demon Lust

by Raisa Greywood

  Joral stood above her and held out a hand. “It’s time to go home,” he said.

  Though the words tasted bitter and caustic, she said, “I am home.”

  Reaching down, he grabbed her arm and tugged her to her feet, his green eyes sparkling with malicious triumph. “Didn’t you say you wanted to be on land?” He tsked and pulled her from the water. “I only seek to please you, darling. We’ll live quite happily in that little house for years.”

  “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she whispered. “You said you’d let me go.”

  “You’re my wife.” He put his arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against him as his claws pricked her side. “My most cherished possession, and more valuable than all the treasure in the sea.”

  “I just want to be free like you promised,” she replied.

  “I promised that you could go home,” he corrected. “Have I not kept my word?” He gestured to the house in front of them. “I’ve bought you a lovely home filled with everything you could possibly want.”

  Lucy flinched as his claws pressed harder into her ribs, forcing her to walk with him. “You twisted your promise to me,” she accused. “You made me think you were going to let me go.”

  Joral laughed, the sound low and sultry. “Alas, I have no control over what you think, darling Lucy. I told you I would allow you to go home. And so you have.”

  He led her up the steps to the front door and opened it with a flourish. “I believe it’s time for me to reacquaint myself with my lovely wife, don’t you?”

  Chapter 8

  Joral led her inside and shut the door behind them. She shivered at the finality of the sound and wrapped her arms around herself. The gesture of self-comfort didn’t help.

  “Are you cold, love?” Joral asked.

  She shook her head. He tugged one of her hands free, then kissed her palm, the tips of his canines scratching at her skin. “Good. I hate the idea of my lovely queen experiencing any discomfort.”

  “Your presence causes me discomfort,” she snapped. “I wanted to be away from you!”

  “You wound me, darling.” His fangs glinted in the waning sunlight. “I was rather hoping for a more dutiful wife who would be content with my son resting under her heart.”

  The reminder of her unwanted pregnancy made her queasy and she swallowed against the bile rising in her throat. “I offered to give him to you. Just take him and let me go.”

  “No, a boy needs his mother,” Joral replied. His grip tightened on her hand and he pulled her forward. “I haven’t shown you the rest of the house, have I? I’m sure you’re going to love the surprise I have for you.”

  “Your surprises suck,” she muttered. Her lungs grew tight from the familiar lack of air and she pressed her lips together. He twisted her words, perverting their meaning to suit himself. She didn’t have the breath left to waste on them.

  He led her down a flight of stairs into a sunken room. A massive hot tub sat in the middle of the tiled floor, wafting steam that smelled of minerals and salt. Her skin twitched, itching for the barest touch of that precious fluid on her body. But she didn’t approach.

  Joral never gave anything without demanding payment.

  “How do you survive on land?” she asked. Did he have a weakness she could exploit? She might never escape what he’d done to her body, but the chance to be free of him was one she couldn’t pass up.

  He smirked at her as if he knew what she was thinking. “The sea doesn’t hold my obeisance, my love. It’s simply where I prefer to live.”

  Joral stripped off his shirt, baring his scaled chest. His jeans followed, landing in a heap at his feet as he straightened. The bones of his face grew sharper, more pronounced, shadowing his features into something less than human.

  She tried to inhale, her throat spasming closed as the scales changed to black feathers.

  Wings sprouted from his back, spreading wide over his shoulders. He mantled, the flight feathers sleek and glistening iridescent blue against his pale skin as he walked toward her, his cock hardening. The scent of spent flowers and overripe fruit wafted from him, growing stronger as he approached, sweet, but cloying and thick.

  He stroked her jaw with clawed fingertips. “This world is my playground, wife of mine. You, and every creature that walks, crawls, or slithers belongs to me. Even…” he leaned closer, his breath tickling the back of her neck, “humanity’s gods.”

  Lowering his hand to her throat, he squeezed gently, claws pricking the skin under her ear. “Humans pray to them, but they’re not real,” he hissed. “I hear the prayers of the weak and soulless. It delights me, the begging of humans.”

  Dread filled her belly and she tried to back away from his touch. He tightened his claws on her neck and she felt a trickle of blood run down her throat. He put his lips to her ear and inhaled, then snaked out his tongue to lick the crimson from her skin.

  “But my favorite by far is the sound of you pleading for air,” he whispered. “Your lovely skin becomes alabaster like clouds, and your lips tinge blue. I love watching you suck my red cock with those pretty cerulean lips.” He tightened his fingers on her hair, tugging her head backward. “It’s almost patriotic, don’t you think? Red, white, and blue, isn’t it?”

  Tears fell from Lucy’s eyes to stream down her face and she sagged against him, her legs unable to bear her weight. She’d known he wasn’t human, and had come to accept it, ut he was so much more than not human.

  “None of that, darling,” he said, wiping the tears from under her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll learn your place and delight me beyond measure.”

  Chapter 9

  She stood unresisting as he tore the clothing from her body. He stroked her chilled flesh, his hands scalding on her skin. For a very brief moment, she considered protesting, but the words died in her throat. What was the point of speaking when he wouldn’t listen?

  He picked her up and lowered her into the heated water. Despite the warmth, her teeth chattered as gooseflesh erupted on her body.

  “That’s a good girl,” he said, settling her on his lap. He spread her thighs wide, splaying her open. “I can’t even tell you how much I’ve missed you, dear Lucy. I’ve been despondent without your presence.”

  “Someone took your favorite toy away?”

  “Exactly so!” He nuzzled his face into her hair and inhaled. “I missed you so much that I had to do something to alleviate my boredom and took another dozen slaves for my court.”

  He pulled her to his chest and hummed in pleasure. “They’re nothing compared to you, of course, but attractive playthings nonetheless. And when they’re used up, I can always fetch more if I get bored again.”

  Joral bit the side of her neck, making Lucy hiss. The pain vanished with the knowledge that she’d been responsible for twelve women losing their freedom and lives. They would all be bound to marble columns in that awful caldera until they died.

  It was her fault. And he would take more innocents if she didn’t obey. He hadn’t come out and said it, but the threat was more than clear.

  More tears fell to mix with the salted water, disappearing in eddies of steam as he pulled her against his hardening cock. “Look at you,” he murmured. “So soft and sweet, perfect for me. I want to give you so much pleasure. Our passion will set the stars aflame.”

  The words would have been welcomed if they’d come from a lover. Lucy wondered if he’d memorized them from a book. She let her head fall back as he ran his hands down her chest, squeezing her breasts as he teased her nipples into aching peaks.

  He cupped her chin and turned her head to the side, then took her lips in a soft kiss that made tears stream from her eyes again. She couldn’t understand why he treated her with such care while he kept her bound against her will. Should she accept it as a gift? How could she, when she knew the freedom of innocent women rested upon her shoulders?

  Joral stroked her belly, his fingers brushing across her clit until she parted her lips to
drag in a much-needed breath.

  “Give me something, Joral,” she whispered. “Give me the one thing I ask and I will stay and obey.”

  “Your willing obedience?” he asked, playing with her clit. Her belly clenched as he dipped a single long finger into her pussy, swirling it until she softened and grew slick for him.

  “My willing obedience is yours if you let the slaves free. All of them, and promise me you will never take another, nor allow your people to.”

  “Done, darling. I—”

  “And none of your people will take one either,” she insisted. “If they want brides, tell them to find willing women.”

  Growling low, he tightened his grip on her flesh. “Granted, Lucy Cartwright. I will meet your bargain in exchange for your willing compliance.”

  His hard cock prodded at her, demanding entry into her slick folds. Letting out a breath, she relaxed and shifted back to take him inside her. He groaned, sending a sharp surge of triumph through her.

  “Ah ah, bad girl.” Joral stood and turned around, Lucy dangling helplessly in his arms. Setting her down, he helped her kneel on the bench seat and pushed her forward until she rested her arms on the lip of the tub.

  “For such a large thing, I want much in return, dear wife.”

  He petted her pussy, making her relax into his touch. His words didn’t surprise her. She’d known he would demand so much more than he had before. There would be no more bargains between them. There couldn’t be. She had nothing left to offer.

  His skilled fingers stroked her wet flesh, making her whine with pleasure. She couldn’t help it. Even though she wanted to hide her pleasure from him, there was no point. He knew her body almost better than she did.

  Yet she stiffened when he moved his fingers to play with her ass. Aside from the one time he’d gone down on her, Joral had never touched her there. A sharp, stinging slap made her cry out.

  She tried to straighten, but he pressed down on her back and kept spanking her, his hand landing several times on the sensitive crease between her ass and thighs. Struggling against his hold, she screeched in pain.

  “Stop it, please!” she cried.

  He said nothing as he reached over the edge of the tub and retrieved a black stick about three feet long. Looking down at her, he clucked his tongue. “How quickly you forget our bargain,” he chided. “I believe you need a reminder.”

  Gathering her wrists in one hand, he said, “This is a cane made from the dried tail of a stingray, darling.” He swished it through the air, the whistling sound making her flinch and try to yank her hands free. “I’m sure it will be a most effective lesson.”

  Joral lifted her arms, forcing her to lower her torso to the edge of the tub. The cane whistled again, and an instant later she heard a crack as it connected with her flesh.

  For a second, she thought it hadn’t hurt so badly. And then the sting of all the fires of hell lit up her nerve endings, making her scream.

  The cane whistled over and over, its song staccato counterpoint to her shrieks. After an eternity, he laid the cane aside and petted her bottom.

  Lucy sobbed at the touch. Her ass felt like he’d scoured the skin from her body with that terrible cane. She choked on a cry of pain as he squeezed.

  “You mark so beautifully, darling. I’ll make sure to show you a mirror so you can see the lovely symmetric lines across your perfect ass.”

  He pushed his hand between her legs and stroked her pussy, then let out a pleased growl. “And look at this!” he said, holding up a hand.

  Turning to face him, she blinked away tears and tried to focus. “Look at what?” she croaked.

  “You’re delightfully wet, my beloved. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Peachy,” she muttered. Her physiology was obviously fuckered up beyond belief. She wasn’t about to kink shame, but masochism had never been her thing. Why did her body pick now to decide to change its opinion?

  Murmuring soothingly, he leaned over her, wrapping her in his arms as his weight pressed against her abused bottom. He squeezed her tight and kissed the back of her neck before moving his hand to her pussy.

  The mix of pain and pleasure confused her. Lucy didn’t understand how she could feel both at the same time. Lowering her head to her arms, she shut her eyes, too overwhelmed to listen to whatever nonsense Joral was saying.

  His weight left her body and he stroked her ass, pressing a thumb against her rosebud. Gritting her teeth, she tried to relax and push out, ignoring the sting when he lodged his thumb inside her.

  “Relax, sweet.” He pulled out, then pushed in again with two fingers, scissoring them to stretch her opening. “There’s my good girl. I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

  Lucy didn’t answer. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her fists as he settled behind her and prodded at her ass with the tip of his cock. Her breath left her in a whoosh of air as he eased himself inside.

  She probably ought to thank him for not slamming home. She was so uncomfortably full. It hurt, but didn’t. Or maybe it did. Maybe she was only feeling the leftover sensation from that vicious caning.

  Joral moved so slowly, his gentle thrusts taking her breath away as his heavy balls nudged at her clit, the teasing touches making her gasp.

  He didn’t have to give her pleasure. He’d hurt her, held her against her will, and planned to make her mother his son. He could have taken her to a cold bed and fucked her, but instead, he’d left her in the water where she could breathe. Why?

  Knowing Joral did things for his own reasons, she accepted what he gave her and moved her hips backward to meet his thrusts. Maybe it was better to accept joy when it came and hold those memories for the times when she would need a crutch to keep her sanity.

  He grabbed her hair, fisting the strands as he pulled her head back, forcing her to meet him. “Touch yourself, beloved. Touch that slick little pussy and make yourself come for me. I want to feel your tight ass clench around me.”

  His filthy words made her spasm and pulled a whine from her lips. She moved her hand between her legs, feeling his balls slap at her fingers as she rubbed at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

  Pinpricks of pain lit up her scalp as he pulled her hair, adding to the flood of passion raging through her. He slapped her hip, the blow waking up the stripes left from the cane.

  Her vision wavered as her belly clenched and she gasped as the shock of an orgasm rushed through her, so powerful it almost hurt. Lucy let out a thin cry as Joral swelled inside her, pulling her to him as he fucked her harder than ever. His hips hammered against her ass, making her abused bottom sing in agony mixed with delight.

  With an animalistic roar, he stilled, the muscles of his thighs quivering against her as he flooded her with his come. He leaned against her, resting heavily on her back as he kissed her shoulders and neck.

  “There’s my good girl,” he whispered. “So obedient and perfect.” He eased his cock from her ass then pulled her into his lap, pressing her head against his shoulder. Stroking her hair, he bathed her face in gentle kisses.

  It was almost sweet. If he stayed like this, maybe the time wouldn’t be so bad. She’d always miss her freedom, but if he was kind, she could live with the loss. Or, at least she could lie to herself about it.

  “I’m very disappointed that you cut your hair, beloved,” he murmured. “Such a shame when it had grown out so beautifully.”

  “I don’t suppose I’ll have the opportunity to cut it again, so you won’t have to worry about it.”

  His eyes glinted at her, flashing an inhuman green as he gave her a small smile and eased her from his lap. “That’s quite true, beloved. Now, if you’ll be so kind as to clean me up. You’ve made quite a mess of my cock.”

  She nodded and stood. “I’ll get a washcloth and soap.”

  Throwing his head back, he laughed as he pulled her close. “Soap in this lovely saltwater tub I’ve built for you? Perish the thought.” His laughter faded as quickly as it had come
and he said, “On your knees, darling. You have a better way to clean me.”

  Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Lucy obeyed. He’d given her less than five minutes of afterglow. Had she truly expected more from him? He pushed her head under the water and she tried not to think about what she was doing as she took him into her mouth.

  Chapter 10

  Lucy hoped he’d let her stay in the tub all night. It was comfortable here and she could breathe. Her skin felt nourished and supple, and the scales on her arms and ribs were actually sort of pretty in the dim light flickering from the recessed fixtures. She refused to think about how or why the growths had appeared.

  When she opened her mouth to ask, he pulled her to her feet and said, “Come, it’s time to go to bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  “Can’t I stay here?” she begged, knowing he’d say no.

  “I bought you a lovely bed, darling. Surely you don’t want to miss sleeping in it,” he said, picking her up. He stepped from the tub and let her down. Grabbing a towel, he wiped the water from her body and dried her hair.

  Her skin tightened immediately, making her itch as she trudged up the stairs after him. She didn’t dare complain, but knew the infusion of his come wouldn’t keep her breathing forever. If she was lucky, she’d make it through the night without gasping for air like a dying fish.

  He laid next to her in the massive bed, pulling her close. She tried to sleep, but laid awake for a long time, waiting for the inevitable tightness in her chest to arrive. Yet her exhaustion took over and forced her into rest.

  A touch on her shoulder made her leap from the bed. Laying a hand over her heart, she stared at Joral. He wore a pair of black board shorts and nothing else.

  Handing her a red dress like the one she’d worn when he kept her in the sea cavern, he said, “Get dressed, darling. I thought we’d go visit my court for a time. Now that you can breathe, I hope you find it more enjoyable than before.”