Seduced by a Demon King

by Heaton, Felicity

  Lightning struck around her.

  She flung her head back and screamed as her hips jerked upwards, body quivering and milking his finger, slick and hot around him.

  Gods, his female was beautiful in the throes of release.

  The image of her shattered, replaced with the dark canopy that stretched across the top of his four-poster bed, and he growled as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to recapture the dream.

  Fragments of it replayed in his mind, teasing snippets that had his already painfully hard length growing even harder.

  On a low groan, he pushed the covers of his bed away and skimmed his hand down his shaft. He draped his free hand over his eyes to shut the world out as he thought about Suki, about how she had come apart in his dream, and stroked himself to a swift completion, spilling all over his bare stomach.

  He breathed hard when he was done, remained laying on his bed for the gods only knew how long, his mind whirling with thoughts of Suki, his body still aching for more.

  In the dark stillness, a seed of suspicion formed.

  He immediately discounted it. It had been decades since he had bedded a female, and he was attracted to Suki. She was alluring, mysterious, and knew how to tempt him. She was the first female in centuries who hadn’t thrown herself at him. It was little wonder he had dreamed of her, taking in it the pleasure she had denied him in reality.

  But that seed remained, began to plant roots even as he tried to deny it.

  The way he reacted every time she looked at him. The fact he wanted to hurt any male who so much as looked at her. The powerful need to be near her. To see her.

  To please her.

  It couldn’t mean what he thought it did.

  He shook his head. He wanted her and reacted the way he did because of it.

  Not because she was something to him.

  Something incredible. Special.

  He would prove that to himself before he fooled himself into thinking she was something she wasn’t.

  He used his discarded shirt to wipe himself off, swung his legs over the edge of his large bed and stood. He padded across his bedroom, past the windows that overlooked the courtyard of the castle and the black mountains beyond. A cool breeze kissed his bare skin as he paused and looked out of the last one.

  He had eight meetings today.

  All of them were going to have to wait for another day.

  He needed to see Suki and it needed to be now. He would prove that she was just another female, one more enchanting than the rest, but nothing special to him. She couldn’t be.

  Or could she?

  He pushed that question aside as he tossed his soiled shirt in a basket below the window, near the door to his bathing room. The painted cream walls of his bathroom added a brightness fuelled by the row of arched windows to his right that allowed the light of the elven realm to flood into it. He had painted it himself with provisions brought by his aides from the mortal world, and although it was flaking a little now, it was still preferable to the drab blackness of the rest of the walls in the castle.

  Tegan crossed to the stone sink mounted on the wall below a slightly crooked mirror, grabbed the pitcher of water that stood on a tray on the wooden cupboard beside it and poured it into the bowl. He splashed the water on his face and chest, washed himself off and dried using the black towel hanging over the railing opposite what passed as a toilet in his world. He curled a lip at it. One day, he would renovate the entire castle using technology from the mortal world.

  He had heard of things called showers, a device for bathing standing upright. He intended to install one in every bathing room in the castle as soon as possible so his kingdom was the first to have such a luxury.

  Demons loved war, whether it was done on a battlefield or not. Being the victor in beating other realms in the race to improve their kingdoms and make advancements through the use of technology or otherwise was almost as satisfying as beating them in a war.

  Tegan intended to completely annihilate his competition in that respect.

  King Thorne had beaten him to trialling the use of wind turbines as a possible method of producing electricity, but Tegan would beat him to implementing them on a widespread scale. Just as he would beat the male and every other king to improving education, sanitation and everything else.

  He grabbed his latest book as he passed the small table that sat beside the black armchair near his unlit fireplace and tossed it onto the rumpled furs on his bed as he crossed the room to his wardrobe. A smile curled his lips. His aides had washed his black shirt and he had been irritated when he had discovered they had done such a thing, removing Suki’s scent from it, but now he could wear it again. She had liked the sight of him in it and he wanted to see her eyes light up again, ached to have her gaze glued to him in a way that revealed her desire and how much she wanted him.

  He tugged a fresh pair of black leathers on, tied them over his crotch, and pulled on his shirt. The buttons were easier this time. He was getting the hang of mortal clothing. He pushed his feet into his boots, wriggled his left one when it got stuck and growled as he bent to loosen the laces. He tied them again once his foot was secure and grabbed his book on the way past the bed again, a need to see his reflection carrying him back into his bathing room.

  His hair was a mess.

  He wetted the black strands and combed it with his fingers, slicking it back down the middle of his head to leave the sides clear. His right hand went to his horn and he preened it as he inspected his reflection, ensuring he looked good.

  He looked damned nervous.

  His left foot twitched as he picked up a cloth and rubbed it over his polished black horns, from the thick root above his pointed ears, down the curve to the sharp tip near his lobes. They flared a little as thoughts of seeing Suki drifted into his mind, pulling up images of her from his dream. His cock jerked and he pushed the thoughts back out as he focused on making sure the gold inlaid into his horns gleamed.

  He would see her soon enough and he would realise that he was mistaken and was reading into the way he reacted to her.

  She was just another female.

  Not something special.

  Because he wasn’t that lucky.

  CHAPTER 11

  Tegan opened his portal and dropped into it, hugging his book to his chest as the dark engulfed him. When it receded, he stood on the cobbled road at the entrance of a fae town hidden inside an enormous cavern beneath a mountain range, one that had changed dramatically over the centuries since he had last visited.

  The fae town where Suki lived.

  His mood lifted but took a sharp downwards turn as he realised something.

  She lived here, but he didn’t know where she lived, and the town was far larger than he recalled, hundreds of buildings crammed into the space.

  And he had no method of calling her.

  He considered teleporting to Underworld and using the phone there, but now that he was here, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to explore this place Suki called home and while he was at it, he would ask around and discover her location.

  Someone was bound to know where she lived.

  His mood took another black turn at that.

  Males would know where she lived.

  He bared his fangs at a passing group of males dressed in white shirts and tan trousers, unsure what species they were or whether they even knew the succubi who lived in the town, and uncaring about either of those things.

  The thought that the males in the town might know Suki had rage kindling in his blood, his horns curling around and growing, and a black need to kill every male present rolling through him.

  That seed of suspicion buried its roots deeper.

  Right into his heart.

  Could she be his fated one?

  He didn’t want to get his hopes up, even when all the signs were there. He felt possessive of her, protective, and felt a powerful need to please her. He felt as if he was slowly losing his mind whenever they
were apart and longed to be near her again.

  Was it possible she was his one true mate?

  Could he be so blessed to find his fated one in a female he found attractive, who pleased him at every turn, made him burn for her because she was beautiful, and interesting, and amusing?

  He had never been lucky. Not on a battlefield, where he had come close to losing his head more than a hundred times, and not with his family, and not even as a king, a role he had never wanted and one that had felt like the worse sort of luck when the crown had landed on his head.

  But if his years of poor luck had brought him to this, to Suki being his fated one, then they had been worth it. He would gladly accept bad luck in his life if she was his one piece of good luck. He couldn’t ask for anything better than having her as his mate.

  A group of female witches passed him, laughing and shoving at each other, their drab black dresses brushing the floor as they walked the cobbled road, heading towards a broad thoroughfare that cut through the town.

  A vibrant artery that was busy with people, all of whom seemed in an equally jovial mood.

  The celebration Suki had mentioned?

  Curiosity gripped him and he found himself moving forwards, following the witches as they branched right, heading towards a district where the two and three storey houses were painted white and had roofs that looked like dragon scales. The green, blue and gold glazed tiles undulated over semi-circular windows in the roofs and followed a sweeping roofline, where the tiles were pointed or curved at the apex.

  On the ground level of every house, a colourful canopy stretched out over the road, the space below it packed with copper stills and clay pots, and all manner of other things. Witches stood by some of them, calling out to people who were passing in both directions, attempting to lure them to see their wares.

  “Love potion?” One elderly female muttered low as he passed and he glanced at her, his brow furrowing as he realised she was speaking to him. She jerked her chin a few times, an attempt to beckon him that he resisted. She grinned. “You don’t look like you need one, but I see a glimmer of something in you. Like you want love.”

  Did he want love?

  He paused, stopping facing her, causing the male behind him to almost bump into him. Tegan flashed his fangs when the male muttered something about watching where he was going. He had been watching, this male hadn’t. His gaze returned to the device the male held as he hurried away. A phone. He was tempted to go after the male and ask to use it, but remained where he was.

  The witch continued to grin, her worn pale face gaining more lines as her smile stretched a little wider, and her dark eyes revealed she thought him to be a sure bet.

  Because he looked as if he wanted someone to love him?

  If he purchased a potion from her, could it make Suki love him?

  He immediately shoved that thought aside. He didn’t want her to love him because a potion had made her feel that way about him, just as he didn’t want her to love him because he was a king. If she could come to love him, he wanted it to be real. He needed to know she loved him because of who he was, not what he was or what he had given her.

  He shook his head, went to leave and hesitated, staring at the cobbles beneath his boots.

  He looked across his right shoulder at her again. “Do you know where the succubi live?”

  It was safer to ask a female than it was to approach the males about it. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his mood in check if he asked males where the succubi lived. Although many succubi lived within a clan house, and Suki had sisters, he would imagine every one of those males knew her intimately, that the succubus they called to mind when he asked about them was her and her alone.

  His horns curled at just the thought of it, flaring past the tips of his ears and rising up towards his temples as his fangs emerged and claws lengthened.

  The witch’s eyes widened and she hastily pointed towards the other end of the curved road. He looked there, and when he looked back at her, intending to ask her exactly where in that direction the succubi lived, she was gone and the purple door of the white house slammed shut.

  He cursed low.

  He had forgotten that witches were always jumpy around demons for some reason, constantly viewed them as a threat even though he couldn’t recall a time when his kind had ever been a danger to them.

  Although, there was that rumour that a witch would lose her powers if a demon spilled betwixt her thighs.

  Was that rumour true?

  He shrugged and moved on, his thoughts shifting course as he took in the different wares on sale at each stall that lined the sweeping road, took in the varying scents that filled the air near each one, rising from the bubbling copper pots and stills. His ears twitched, the sound of merriment reaching them as he neared the end of the road.

  It opened out into a square lined with imposing dark grey stone buildings, each at least three-storeys tall. To the right of him, a huge clock tower rose high into the cavern, the illuminated face of it revealing the hour was early, barely gone midday.

  Or midnight?

  No, he had left the castle during the daylight hours, and this part of the mortal world seemed aligned with the time in his realm.

  His stomach grumbled, putting in that it certainly believed it to be time for food.

  He sniffed, scenting the air, and his mouth watered at the smell of roasting meat and sweet brew. He followed the tempting scent, his stomach guiding him towards the source of it, and weaved through the thick crowd that had gathered at the entrance of the square.

  A few demons glanced his way, their pale golden horns and cerulean leathers revealing they were from the First Realm. When their blue eyes widened, he stared them down, aware they knew who he was. The urge to hide his horns ran through him but he denied it. These males wouldn’t dare bother him. The worst that would happen from this encounter was the First King would know he had been to the mortal realm, and that was of little consequence.

  It wasn’t forbidden for demon kings to leave their realms.

  Although, his advisers and the court had made him feel as if it was.

  The males wisely moved on and he moved deeper into the crowd, his focus shifting back to his hunt for food. Once he had filled his belly, he would search north of the square for the succubi house.

  A groan threatened to peel from his lips when the crowd ahead of him parted, revealing a wooden stall with an entire animal roasting on a spit near it. The animal was small, only half his size, but it smelled delicious. He drifted towards it, lips parting, stomach grumbling, and stopped near it, staring at it as it rotated above the flames, the juices that dripped from it sizzling upon contact with the fire.

  Someone had placed fruit in its mouth, a ripe red apple.

  He pulled a face at that.

  What sort of animals mixed fruit with meat?

  “You want to buy some pork or just stare at it? Guessing you have money.” A snippy female voice broke into his delicious reverie and he frowned at the owner of it, a portly female dressed in a stained white apron, her dark hair twirled into a bun at the back of her head.

  “I will take some of this pork.” He pointed to it, reached down to his hip and took his coin purse from it. He opened it as the female cut a chunk of the meat from the animal and studied his options.

  Suki had said fae towns didn’t take plastic.

  He dug out a two gold coins, sure the portion of meat would be more than such a small sum, and showed them to the female. “Is this enough?”

  Her eyes drifted down him, a flicker of interest lighting them. A smile teased her lips when she reached his hand and the coins.

  “I do love a big man with an appetite.” She plucked the two coins from his fingers. “This much, eh?”

  He nodded, unsure what it would get him, but curious to see. When she went back to the animal and pulled off the entire back leg of the beast, his eyes widened and his stomach growled louder.

  Now t
hey were talking.

  “I require brew too.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his hoard as she slapped it down in front of him, juices running over the wide flimsy tray she had placed it on.

  Two coins got him almost a quarter of the pork.

  If pork was a tasty animal, he would see about importing some into his kingdom once the farms were up and running. He was sure that they had to be cheaper alive than they were dead. He could have entire farms of pork at each village, enough to feed everyone.

  With the selection of grains he had decided to invest in too, never again would his people have to starve.

  “See Rod. He has the best brew in the town.” She gestured to a bearded male two stalls over, nearer to a raised stone pathway that people were walking along, heading towards steps that led down into the square.

  Tegan nodded, tucked his book under his left arm, took hold of his bounty and went to see the male.

  He offered a gold coin. “I require brew.”

  The dark-haired male looked him up and down. “Demon, eh? I have just the thing. Your boys love this stuff.”

  He turned to one of the barrels stacked behind him, picked up the largest pewter tankard Tegan had ever seen and placed it beneath the tap.

  As Tegan stared at the amber liquid running into the tankard in a seemingly endless stream, he realised something.

  Gods, he loved fae towns.

  Two coins for a quarter of a pork. One coin for a huge mug of brew that smelled sweet and strong.

  Today, he truly feasted like a king.

  The male slammed the tankard down on the wooden counter of the stall, causing the creamy foam to slosh over the sides, and Tegan handed him the coin and grabbed the brew, eager to taste it and the pork.

  He moved to the wide raised walkway that lined the front of several towering grey stone buildings, placed his food and brew down at the edge of the path, and easily pulled himself up onto it. He picked up the leg of the animal and bit into it.

  Gods, it was delicious. Juicy, sweet, tasting faintly of herbs and some spices. He swallowed it down with a swig of the brew and groaned. He needed to steal these people from this town and have them work in his castle kitchens. He would never complain about having to attend a feast if he could eat this pork and drink this mead.