Kiss of a Demon King iad-7

by Kresley Cole

  He did that steady eye-challenge thing, but he didn't

  deny it. Though she wanted to view his unwavering honesty as a weakness, he didn't look weak... he looked in control. Masculine and fierce.

  "Rydstrom, do you think I like chaining you up and using you?" At his scowl, she said, "Very well, I like it a little bit. But I'd prefer to make love to you normally. Or at least as much as your fetish would allow."

  "I don't have fetish!"

  With a flick of her hand, she made the dungeon appear to be her room, with breezes rushing in, the red and black banners whipping.

  He frowned in confusion. "This is my room."

  "Now ours. I've been sleeping in your chambers, awaiting you."

  When he took his eyes off the room, he raked his gaze over her body.

  Sabine had dressed much as she had yesterday, except the clothes were even more intricate. Her top was made of gold and silver, twisted and knotted to circle over her breasts, then climbing up around her neck. Her eyes were kohled with a purple so dark it was nearly black.

  "You're doing that eye-fucking thing again-would you like to see all of me?" she asked. "I could strip for you."

  At length, he gave a curt nod as if he couldn't stop himself.

  She slipped her full-length gloves from her arms, then tossed them negligently onto the floor behind her. The pop took long moments for her to unlace, and his eyes were riveted on her fingers unknotting the ties. Each second seemed to excite him more.

  "Did you choose that top because you thought I'd like it?" He was breathing harder.

  "Yes, to please you."

  When she began stripping her skirt, he ordered in a husky voice, "Slower, female." His eyes were burning, his expression so hungry. He seemed unaware that he was subtly rocking his hips.

  She eased the skirt to her ankles, kicking it away, leaving her black lace thong and thigh-highs.

  "Now those," he bit out, jerking his chin at her panties. She inched them down, teasing him to a fever pitch.

  Once she'd gracefully stepped from the thong, he grated, "Stop there." Only her headdress, choker, and hose remained. "Now turn around."

  As she did, she said, "Is this the body of a queen, or what, Rydstrom? Come on, demon. Admit that you like me." She faced him again. Hungry eyes, dangerous expression. Shivers danced over her.

  How could a look be so arousing to her?

  She held his gaze as she sauntered up to him. "If you cooperate with me, I intend to kiss your body from your strangely erotic horns to your toes." She climbed over his waist, and when he bucked, she grabbed his horns, stilling him. "That's not cooperating, my darling." She leaned forward and rubbed her face over the smooth surface of one.

  With a groan, he turned his own face to reach for one of her nipples, nuzzling it. But once he tugged the swollen tip between his teeth, she had a moment of alarm. He could bite her . ..

  Instead, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling, making her moan. To reward him, she ran her lips over his horn. His massive body shuddered beneath her, rattling the chains.

  When he groaned against her breast, her eyes went heavy-lidded. Fires began to light the perimeter of the chamber, stoked with each of his feverish licks around her nipple.

  With the faintest smile, she let the flames burn.

  Sabine pulled back, then brushed her mouth against one of his ears. "Demon, I would be a good lover to you." One of her delicate hands was smoothing over his chest. "I'd give you everything."

  Right now he had no doubt of that. "I don't understand you. The last time you came in here, you were hard-bitten, like you were going to battle. Now this .. ."

  No longer was her touch impersonal. It was tender, desiring . . . like he'd imagined his own female would touch him.

  "Do you still deny I'm yours?" There was an edge to her voice.

  "I deny it no longer." He blinked, shaking his head to clear his vision. "Sabine, there's a fire-"

  "It's only illusion, demon." In his ear, she whispered, "It's unconscious. The flames come from me when I get extremely aroused."

  Extremely aroused? And the fire was growing. When he comprehended that she was in desperate need like him, the driving instinct to sate her raged inside him.

  This seduction was too powerful, like she was using magick. The fire, the sweetness of her touch . . . "You're weaving some kind of spell."

  "There's no spell. I just desire you."

  Even as she soothed and whispered her words, he grew more frenzied, turning more demonic.

  "Accept me as yours. Claim me." She cupped his face, giving him a tender, coaxing kiss like she had the last time she'd come to him. When she kissed him like this, his resistance melted away.

  Once she broke the kiss, she leaned down to trail her lips across his chest, her shining hair sweeping over his skin. Her breasts swayed, her hard nipples glancing over him. She'd been working him into a lather with her seeking kisses and her silken hands grazing all over his body. And now she dipped down his torso, her destina-tion unmistakable.

  When she rubbed her soft face against his shaft, his head fell back. He raised it a second later.

  "Typical male," she murmured, "wanting to watch. Well, watch this ..." She teased the crown, licking the slit until he yelled out.

  "Demon, you taste so good ..."

  He gazed at her in disbelief. "Tassia, suck it between your lips."

  Her hand clasped the base, her lips closing tight over the swollen head. "Ummm," she moaned around it, sending vibrations along his shaft.

  "Take it deep for me!"

  She did, pumping her fist and sucking him without mercy, working in concert to pleasure him. A helpless

  groan broke from his chest when he saw her fingering her sex. Not a selfless woman but a greedy one expect­ing her pleasure. Good.

  "You ... like this? Are you wet?"

  In answer, she raised the hand she'd been using to pet herself toward his mouth. When he realized she expected him to taste her, his cock jerked in her mouth, and he quickly leaned down. He sucked her slick fin­gers, snarling in bliss, his seed palpably climbing.

  The night began to grow hazy. He was going more demonic with a female than ever before. The need to have her lashed at him.

  He released her fingers only when his back bowed. So close.

  She dug her nails into his torso, marking his body in her abandon, whipping him to a frenzy. "I have ... to take you!" With his wrists chained behind him, his arms straight back, he gave a furious thrust between her lips.

  She stopped and pulled back.

  "No!" he bellowed.

  Gazing up at him with her deeply kohled eyes flash­ing metallic, she clutched his shaft, still wet from her tongue. Between panting breaths, she said, "Give me the vow, demon. I'll make your eyes roll back in your head."

  The throbbing pain was too much ... goading him to give in to her.

  "Rydstrom, I want this. Did you never think that I need you, too?"

  Need me? "Sabine . . ." He trailed off when he heard a yell coming from the main tower. "What was that?"

  "Nothing, absolutely nothing-"

  Someone pounded on the cell door.

  "Ignore that, demon," Sabine said. "What were you going to say to me?"

  "Abie!" a female called from just outside. "Quickly!"

  Sabine made a sharp sound of frustration, then leaned her forehead against his shaft, pressing it against his stomach.

  Rydstrom bit out, "Finish this, Sabine. I need you to finish this!"

  She eased up over him, lying atop him with her head on his chest. As they fought to catch their breath, she was shaking-he was shuddering.

  But even as he was in agony, she felt so damned right against him.

  Mine. He needed to have his arms around her, to clutch her tighter, to keep her by him.

  "Let me in!" the woman called. "I'm not leaving until you open up."

  Sabine sighed, then pressed a kiss to his chest. "Your heart i
s so strong," she murmured, sounding impressed. When she lifted her head, she met his gaze. "I wonder if it could beat for both of us."

  He rasped, "If I thought I could have more of you like this, it'd be yours."

  Her lips parted. Another shout sounded from the main part of the castle.

  "Abie, I will create a portal into that cell if you don't come out!"

  Sabine glanced away, and when she turned back, he briefly saw something in her eyes that wasn't there

  before. For a heartbeat's time, she'd appeared ... fearful. The fires dissipated in a rush.

  Rydstrom knew how deadly the beings here were. His alarm for her cooled the worst of his lust. My female. His instinct was to protect her. But she was one of the deadly beings here-he had to remember that.

  Instinct had never warred with his reason this much. He was torn inside, the conflict taking its toll. "Are you in danger?"

  "What would you do if I said yes?" She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Would you keep me safe?"

  "Yes," he answered without hesitation. "Free me, Sabine, and I'll protect you with my life."

  "Why? Only because I'm your female?"

  "Protecting you is what I was born to do."

  "I have to go."

  "Then kiss me," he said, the words leaving his tongue before he'd even thought.

  She cupped his face in her small hands and leaned down. She kissed him-differently. He cracked open his eyes to find hers squeezed shut, her brows drawn. As if she were desperate to lose herself in the kiss.

  He soon did, his lids sliding shut. Lost in the way her lips trembled against his, lost in the Tightness of his female needing him.

  14

  "He'd been just about to say the vow, Lanthe!" Sabine had barely been able to redress she'd been so affected by Rydstrom. "So help me, this had better be the coming of the apocalypse-"

  "Yep, fairly much. We're kind of under attack."

  "Acutely or chronically?"

  Lanthe answered, "Nothing at this exact moment. Of course, something could have come up since I came to the dungeon. In any case, Omort summoned you-I figured you wouldn't want him coming to search for you.

  Sabine turned to one of her Inferi. "You. Come here." She'd promised the demon that he could be free to move about the cell and clothed. And she was feel­ing just guilty enough to allow him a pair of pants and some limited freedom.

  As the attendant ran off with her instructions, Sabine and Lanthe hastened to court.

  "Your eyes are still glowing, Abie. You might want to camouflage that before you see Omort."

  Sabine wove a new illusion over her face. "It was ... nice with Rydstrom. Unexpected." A demon lover with eyes tike night-who looked at her as if nothing else existed for him.

  "Are you falling for him?"

  "Could there be a more doomed relationship? It is ridiculous even to contemplate." His husky voice . . . the way his smooth skin tasted. "He's just so... so good"

  "I think that intrigues you," Lanthe said. "He's a male as strong as you, and one you can't defeat."

  "Can we talk about this later? Perhaps after you tell me what's happening here?"

  "Pravus patrols are returning with reports of small uprisings, increasing in number and intensity. Some of the rage demons even attacked the patrols."

  "They've never dared before."

  "They know we have their king. And evidently they also know Cadeon has undertaken the quest for the sword. Just like you'd said, it's become a rallying point."

  "Can there be anything else?"

  "Absolutely! I also heard that Omort has dispatched four fire demons to acquire not just a soothsayer, but the most powerful one in existence."

  Sabine said, "Nïx."

  The notorious Valkyrie oracle called Nïx the Ever-Knowing, or Nucking Futs Nïx, was rumored to be three thousand years old and exceedingly insane.

  But her foretellings, when she deigned to give them, were always accurate.

  "It seems she keeps eluding the fire demons," Lanthe said. "Oh! Almost forgot-we've heard word that vam­pires are converging in the forest outside the castle to

  take Tornin."

  "Lothaire's?" Was that why he'd been studying every­one, because he planned some kind of treachery? "We don't think so. His covenant is still intact." When they reached the grand double doors of the court, a snickering group passed the sisters on their way inside. "What in the hell is going on?"

  "They know you haven't been able to seduce him." Her face fell. "The covenant." Actual evidence that she was still a virgin was available for all the world to

  see.

  Now everybody would be waiting for the tablet to break. The Sorceri males she'd been sexual with-the ones who could never talk her out of her virginity- would think it great fun that she couldn't even give her virtue away to the one she'd supposedly saved it for.

  "There are betting pools," Lanthe muttered.

  "Betting pools. And what are the odds?"

  "You don't want to know. But we could make a mint if you can put a lock on this."

  Everyone in the castle knew she was failing in her bid for power. And she was about to enter court-a ruthless jungle of backbiting and betrayals. Not only would this be damaging for her ego, but if she lost face badly enough in the power-worshipping Pravus, her very life could be in jeopardy.

  Sabine heard more snickers. Hettiah and her coterie of worthless Sorceri friends strolled past the sisters on their way into court. Their mocking glances made it easy for Sabine to see she would have to strike out.

  Lose face, lose life. This was her world. She hadn't gone through the effort of surviving in it this long just to be killed when she was on the cusp of something more. "I'm going to have to fight in there if challenged."

  Though she and Lanthe had no battle sorcery, they both were scrappy and had become fair swordswomen. In battle, Sabine used her illusions to make them invis­ible, allowing them to run around the field, decapitat­ing merrily.

  It wasn't very valorous, but then, only stupid people held valor over life.

  "I know you'll have to," Lanthe said quietly. "And I can't be there with you."

  "Hey, don't worry." Sabine held up her gauntlets. "I just had my claws sharpened." She rapped the metal together, and the smooth ringing tone was pleasing to the ear-

  Without warning, Lothaire traced in front of them, peering down at them from his towering height.

  Sabine raised her hands up to him, ready to draw his nightmares. "I've heard friends of yours plan to visit?"

  "I'll trace away before you madden me, sorceress," he said, his words laced with a thick accent. Some said he hailed from Dacia, and had been a true Transylvanian.

  Sabine's lips thinned, but she lowered her hands. He hadn't threatened her, and she wasn't supposed to attack Lothaire. Technically, he was part of the New Pravus.

  One of the inner circle. His blood was in that tablet that hung on the east wall.

  He said, "Just to be clear, I have no friends. And my soldiers are in the bailey downstairs."

  "Then who lurks in our forest?" she asked.

  "One of the splinter factions breaking away from the Horde since the old vampire king died. My spies indi­cate they'll attack tomorrow night."

  Tornin had protections in place-basically a mystickal moat-so the vampires wouldn't be able to trace directly inside. At least, not for long. "What do they want?"

  "The well."

  The Well of Souls. Armies always sought to control it, because each faction of the Lore had its own legends surrounding it.

  The Lykae believed it cured the madness that accom­panied the transformation to werewolf. The vampires believed it allowed them to be daywalkers and to turn human females into vampires for their potential Brides. The House of Witches believed it gave them the abili­ties of all five of their castes.

  In truth, Sabine didn't know what the hell it did. Even Omort vowed he didn't. All they knew was that the well's power would be unimaginabl
e-and unlocked only by Sabine's son.

  "Who leads the vampires?" Lanthe asked.

  "They have no true ruler, because they won't accept a commoner like myself."

  The Horde was notorious for following only those born in the royal line. "Yet you lead the ones who've joined the Pravus."

  "I might have mentioned to them that the well will resurrect the old Horde king to rule them once more. As soon as the Pravus wins."

  Devious vampire. He rose another notch in Sabine's opinion. "What about Kristoff?" He was the old king's nephew and should be the true ruler, being of royal lineage, though not a drinker of living blood.

  Lothaire shook his head. "They know he will make them abide by his laws. They have been lawless for so long, they won't be brought to heel that easily. Plus, they like the taste of human flesh." Had he licked his fang for a shot of blood? "This is a mere fraction of the army that will gather. In the next two nights, more will come. Many of them know this land from fighting the mighty demon king in ages past."

  Everyone knew the tales of Rydstrom riding out in his fearsome black helmet, beating the Horde back from Tornin. His battles were legendary. "One would think you'd be able to persuade them to leave."

  "Would one?"

  "Sabine!" Omort yelled from inside. He was glassy-eyed, but when he saw her at the doorway, he seemed to rouse. Then he spied Lanthe beside her. "Be gone, Melanthe!" he ordered. "Back to your tower."

  "One day . . ." Lanthe said telepathically, slinking off. "Goodluck."

  As Sabine sauntered inside toward the throne, all eyes were on her. When she separated from Lothaire- lest others suspect them of a secret alliance-the vam­pire murmured, "Noted, sorceress."

  Once she reached the dais, Omort was fiddling with

  his poison ring. Sabine would give anything for the antidote to his morsus. Each poison was individual, and since Omort's was prepared by the Hag in the Basement, she was the only one who could cure Sabine.

  But the Hag had entered into a covenant never to surrender the antidote to another. ...