Defining Human (Only Human Book 4)

by Candace Blevins

  “Okay. Thanks for telling me. Now go, so I can call him and we can get this over with.”

  “You don’t feel as if you want to do this.”

  “I have all kinds of reservations,” I admitted. “Sex with a demon I should be keeping at arm’s length? It’s asking for trouble, but I want these marks hidden.”

  “Be careful with your words. You’re smart. You’ll be fine — just keep your head.”

  I looked over my notes, and then cut a lemon into a pitcher, filled it with ice water, and arranged a tray with the two glasses and the pitcher. I carried the whole thing to the bedroom, took my clothes off and donned a short, silk robe, used the restroom, brushed my teeth, sat on the bed, and called the Demon Lord into the room.

  Once again, my heart raced and my insides went all shaky when he appeared out of thin air. He wore a loincloth and nothing else, and his muscled, perfect body made my insides clench in anticipation of what was to come. The Lord of Lust moves like sex personified. His abs, his legs, his arms, his chest — it’s a beautiful package you immediately envision over you, moving, thrusting.

  “Chère, it’s good to see you.” He walked to a nightstand, opened a drawer, and chuckled. “Your lion follows instructions well.” He stood and inhaled. “He’s close enough to keep an eye on you. Nice.”

  “He isn’t my lion. He’s my friend, and he happens to be a lion.”

  “He’s more yours than anyone else’s, Chère. Eventually, you’ll have to confront his Pride, but he’s keeping them in check, for now.”

  I forgot what I’d intended to say when he lifted a paddle and flogger from the drawer, followed by a large glass butt plug and a worn leather strap.

  The first three items were obviously new, but the strap wasn’t, and I eyed it a few seconds while I tried to figure out how to word my question. “The strap has a story. I want to hear it before you use it on me.”

  “It belongs to your lion and is on loan to me for the evening.”

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t know what you hope to accomplish by using something of Nathan’s to whip me, but I don’t agree to it.”

  “Nothing in our agreement says I can’t, Chère. You said I’d have to act in your best interest, and you bound me from tricking you into anything. I said to find a place I could spank you and make you scream without us being heard, and I warned you moving the marks will hurt nearly as bad as receiving them in the first place. Nothing in that agreement says I can’t use something belonging to the Lion King to spank you with.”

  I crossed my arms. “I don’t like it.”

  He gave me a rakish grin. “Works for me. Our two hours of Earth-time doesn’t begin until we get started, so get rid of the robe and bend over the bed.”

  Part of me wanted to bitch about him being a jerk, part of me appreciated the emotional distance it created. I stood, tossed the robe onto a chair in the corner, and bent over the tall bed. I’m short, so I don’t think it worked out quite the way he intended.

  “On second thought, tiny human, bend over the chest at the foot of the bed.”

  I walked to the bottom of the bed, but he resituated me at the side of the chest, so my body fit across it longways.

  There was no warning, no touch, no nothing. Just the sound of wood impacting flesh, followed by the intense, sharp, agonizing pain of the solid, thick paddle crashing into my bottom. I prefer pain that stings to pain that thuds, and this was all thud.

  “Whose marks do you wear, Chère? On your ass and tits? Who used their belt on you?”

  “Why do you think you have a right to know?” Despite the burning, bruising pain of the first sadistic strike, I managed to keep my voice strong. I was sure I wouldn’t manage it after a few more strikes, but I’d stay strong as long as humanly possible. Even if he brought me to tears, I wasn’t going to tell him who I’d been with — no way did I want to bring Dawg to the demon’s attention.

  He hit me again, asked again. I shook my head. He hit me again, asked again.

  “Fuck you! You have no right to my personal life! I’m not serious with anyone, haven’t promised anyone exclusivity. Who I fuck is none of your damned business!”

  Two more strikes, and a sob broke loose from my chest but I didn’t cry.

  “Whose marks do you wear?”

  “Yours, now!”

  He chuckled behind me. “Damned straight, you do. I’ll cover every one of his so it can’t be seen through mine.”

  Even without a warmup, I was in subspace and wanted more before we hit the twentieth strike. Not just wanted more, but needed more.

  I had plans of my own though, and I waited until he was working the butt plug into me before I said, “I have a proposition for you.”

  He slowed a half-second before resuming, but I’d caught him off guard. Good.

  “I’ll let you take my ass, and you’ll owe me a favor.”

  “You’ll let me take your virginity?”

  No, but I was trying to get around that. I’d read up on making deals with demons, and had a long discussion with Mordecai the night before about the rules.

  “What word did you not understand? You can take my ass here — on Earth, in the Earth realm — in exchange for owing me a favor.”

  “I have my own offer to make, and it’ll work well with yours.” He pressed the plug the rest of the way in and I yelped when my asshole closed around it. Damn, why had Nathan provided one so big? Probably because Xaephan had told him to. I considered asking Nathan later but decided that was a conversation I’d rather not have with him.

  Before I could respond to Xaephan, his fingers were in my pussy and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

  “You don’t have permission to come, Chère. I’m about to get started beating those little tits of yours — I’d love for you to give me an excuse to tear into them even more than I intend.”

  If anything, his words fanned the flames and carried me closer to an orgasm, but I held on by my toenails and managed to keep from going over the edge. I thought he’d had three fingers in me, but he added another and I was certain he hadn’t hit four fingers yet, which meant it’d been two to start with. The extra finger came millimeters from thrusting me into a screaming, thrashing orgasm, but I focused on my breathing and fell back on every ounce of my training. Somehow, I kept from coming despite what I’m certain was Xaephan doing his best to give me the orgasm he refused to allow.

  Finally, he ordered me to the bed, face up, and told me to grasp my elbows behind my back. He put a pillow under my shoulders, so my head fell back and my breasts pointed to the ceiling, and he lifted the worn, leather strap.

  Just like the paddle, he didn’t start easy.

  Screams ripped from my throat with the first grouping of three — to the left, right, and then centered over the nipple of my left breast. He allowed a few measly seconds for me to catch my breath, and the right breast got the same treatment. Before long, there was no time between breasts and my screams sounded frantic and desperate even to me. No matter the pain, in the back of my mind I knew Nathan could hear me and I wondered what he thought.

  When Xaephan finally stopped, my breasts were on fire, swollen, red, and throbbing. “That was your warm-up, love. Thirty strikes to each breast now, one at a time. Do you need me to tie you down?”

  “Whatever pleases you, Sir.”

  “You can stay in place?”

  “If ordered, yes Sir. It’s easier if I’m tied, but if it’ll please you to make me use self-restraint, I’m here for your pleasure, Sir.”

  “I’ll hit you harder if you aren’t tied down. Last chance to tell me you want to be restrained, Chère.”

  “Whatever pleases you, Sir.”

  All my talk of wanting to be used for the Dom’s pleasure might sound like a load of crap, but it’s real. When I’m in subspace, the most important thing on the planet is pleasing the man I’m submitting to.

  Or, in this case, Demon Lord.

  Still, my answers weren’t bulls
hit. In that moment, I wanted Xaephan to use me in the way that most pleased him. He didn’t smile, but his face showed approval. He got it, and he was pleased.

  I expected him to do the right, left, center thing when he gave me these thirty, but he didn’t. Most of the time, the leather strap landed on my nipple, and there was no rhyme or reason to the few times it hit the side. I counted the thirty strikes in my head on the left breast, and then the right — and I didn’t get a break between. I was never in danger of letting go of my arms behind my back, but a few strikes were so hard, and hurt so bad, I came close to flipping onto my side and rolling to my stomach to protect my breasts.

  Master James has trained me well, though, and I held position for all sixty torturous strikes of harsh leather to the sensitive skin and tissues of my nipples and breasts.

  However, I was a mess when he finished — snot coming out of my nose, tears streaking my face, out of breath, and hysterical from the pain.

  Xaephan waited until my eyes were closed and I was trying to catch my breath to enter me with his oh-so-fiery-hot cock, and he buried himself to the balls with one harsh shove inside me.

  My bloodcurdling scream echoed through the room, but I still kept my hands behind my back, the grip on my elbows so tight, it would hurt when I finally let go.

  “If you were mine, I’d keep you to myself a few years before I started trading favors for your use. Sometimes, it’s as much fun to watch someone hurt your property as it is to do it yourself.”

  “Not yours!” My throat was scratchy, my lungs burned, but I managed to get the words out.

  “Hmmm. Permission to speak is rescinded. No more words, Chère.”

  Fuck.

  He started moving, and this was all about him getting off, with no thoughts to how I was dealing with it. He went hard and fast, and I could see the pleasure written on his face. He hadn’t given me permission to orgasm, but he hadn’t told me I couldn’t — not during this round, anyway.

  He waited until I was riding the edge and so close to tipping over to casually say, “Don’t even think of coming, Chère.”

  He laughed at my growl, but then picked up speed and hit my g-spot, and I came apart. He pulled out the instant my orgasm started, but that was okay because once the spasms took hold they weren’t stopping, My body took over, my training went out the window, and I’m sure my eyes were apologizing even as I screamed my bliss and every muscle in my body jerked and rippled with release.

  Xaephan had restrained me in Hell without ropes, and I’m not sure why I didn’t think he could do it on Earth. He’d frozen me in place while he talked to Ryan, after all. He leaned to the side, straightened to show me Nathan’s leather strap, and moved my legs like he was my puppet master. I watched in horror as my knees separated and my legs moved into diaper position. His arm moved up, the strap headed down, and I’m pretty sure I was screaming before the strap hit my clit.

  Just like that, the orgasm was gone and I was shouting, “Red! Red! Fuck! Red!”

  He hit me at least a dozen more times before Nathan got to him and stopped him. “No, Nathan! God, please don’t!”

  “You fucking safeworded!” It came out as a growl, and the Lion King was in his half-form. His fighting form. He and Xaephan were faced off against each other, and the Demon Lord’s eyes and horns were in full-on devil.

  “Dammit! Let me up! I came without permission! Nathan! Fuck!”

  He looked at me. “You’re human.” His face swiveled to glare at Xaephan again. “You stop when she safewords.”

  “You realize she’s more upset with you for interrupting us than with me for merely backing off instead of stopping for the safeword, right?”

  Nathan looked at me. “He backed off?”

  I nodded. “Not much, but enough.”

  He looked at my pussy, then back up to my face, turned, and left the room. Fuck me.

  Xaephan waited until the front door closed and Nathan was down the steps before returning to me. He touched my chin and said, “Ten more.”

  This time, when I tried to scream, no sound came out. He’d taken my voice. Terror shot through me at the idea I couldn’t safeword, and yet… lust saturated every cell of my body.

  Those ten strikes weren’t the most painful thing I’ve had done to me in a scene, but they were in the top five. He hit harder than he had for the original ones, and he didn’t back off though I’m sure he read my lips, trying to scream my safeword.

  His eyes were still all flamey and his horns still out, but I held his gaze when he finished.

  “There are consequences for disobeying.” His voice wasn’t angry, but he wasn’t in teacher mode as Master James would’ve been when he used that statement. Xaephan’s voice was more Lord and Master. He owned me for these two hours, and the reminder sent even more heat between my legs.

  I nodded, and he stuck his cock back in me, and fucked me without a care for how close I got to another orgasm.

  I held onto my pleasure this time, and when the clock on the bedside table beeped, I thought I’d cry. He fucked me another three or four minutes before pulling out and coming all over my stomach, and my re-enabled screams were loud and frantic again, because his cum was once again the temperature of melted wax.

  He stood and watched me until I quieted, his arms crossed, his face impassive.

  “Nathan,” he said without raising his voice, “you need to come back in so we can negotiate whether Kirsten gets an orgasm today, and exactly how much it’s going to hurt for me to move those tattoos.”

  I looked at the clock. “You only have another twenty minutes.”

  “What, you’re going to send me back before I have a chance to move the tattoos? I gave us time to bargain.”

  “Fuck, but you’re an asshole jerk.”

  Chapter 3

  The front door opened, and I said, “Let me up so I can wipe this off and put a robe on for the negotiations.”

  He waited until Nathan was in the room to let me up, and I tried to pretend it was no big deal, but I was furious. I stormed to the bathroom, cleaned my stomach, and put the robe on.

  “What is it you want?” I asked when I returned to the bedroom, jerking the belt to knot it, and glaring at the Demon Lord with everything I had.

  “Your lion has little barbs on his dick, designed to tear the insides of the lioness up enough to make her ovulate. Not all lions have control over the barbs, but the Amakhosi does. You’ll sit on his barbed cock, accept my dick in your ass, and I’ll make the process to move your tattoos as painless as possible. It’s impossible to brand your soul without any pain, but I can make it hurt about a quarter of what you felt the first time. Alternatively, I can move them both at the same time, to get it over with faster. It means it’ll hurt half as bad, but you’ll only have to endure it once.

  “No.” Nathan was back in human form, wearing jeans and no shirt. He looked at me, not Xaephan, and I saw the lion saying it as well as the man.

  “It will keep you safe from the Prince of Hell, Nathan. Right? That was the original reason he made the offer to you? Not only that, but it’ll mean moving my tattoos won’t hurt as bad. It’s a win-win. Why not?”

  He shook his head. “Please, Kirsten. Please. Not like this.”

  Nathan needed my friendship, and I needed his. I thought we could do it and put it behind us, but it didn’t sound like he felt the same. The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice… I couldn’t argue with him.

  He couldn’t handle it, so that was that.

  I nodded. “If it were my choice, it’s a no-brainer. Mucous membranes heal faster than other skin, so while I’m sure it’ll hurt to get torn up a little inside, you won’t be fucking me — it’ll be me sitting on you, and you motionless inside me until I stand back up. It’s doable.” I took a breath, let it out. “It isn’t my decision though. It’s ours. I’d feel better if you could explain why you’re so dead set against it, but in the end, it probably doesn’t matter. If you aren’t comfortable, we won
’t.”

  “You’re missing something.”

  I looked to Xaephan and waited for him to tell us what we were missing.

  “You asked for a favor from me, something I’ll owe you at a future date. I want to fuck your ass while you sit on your lion’s cock. You want that favor from me? Convince him to do it.”

  I shook my head. “He’s my friend. I don’t understand his reasoning, but I can see how uncomfortable this is making him, so no deal.” I took a breath. “Move my tattoos and we’re finished for the day.”

  He nodded. “I’m going to beat your tits and clit with the strap while I move the tattoos. There won’t be a safeword.” He looked at Nathan and dared him to argue. “I’m in my right to do as I wish while I set tattoos, and you know it.”

  “Wait.”

  Xaephan and I both looked to Nathan, and he said, “She’ll sit on me, and I don’t have to move? I can hold her to me, so she doesn’t go up and down?”

  “Yes. You’ll both have to come though. I’m aware you can keep sperm out of your ejaculate, so there’s no need for a condom. If you don’t both orgasm, all deals are off the table. Her favor, and my deal with you to not sell your last favor to the Prince of Hell.”

  Nathan’s jaw flexed. “I’ll have to move my hips to orgasm.”

  “Then I guess you’ll have to tear her up a little.”

  The Lion King looked at me, and I had a feeling he was weighing the options for which would hurt me less.

  “It’s okay, Nathan. You don’t have to do anything. I want the tattoos moved to freckles in a nondescript place badly enough to let him beat me without a safeword while he re-brands my fucking soul. None of this is on you. I’m not asking you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll do as he wants under one condition.” A deep breath, and his voice evened out, tension left his body. “You give me a chance to overwrite it, so this isn’t our only memory of being intimate. We have a night together, just the two of us. No limits, but you know I’ll respect your safeword.”