Claimed by a Demon King

by Felicity Heaton

  Thorne growled down at her, roughly took her hand and shoved it against his crotch, against the large bulge caged by his burgundy leathers.

  “I will not make you… but I cannot be left like this. I need you. I need my female’s caress. I gave you pleasure. You cannot deny me the same.”

  The look in her eyes said she couldn’t deny him. She was already rubbing and caressing, and trembling with anticipation. Or was that him?

  He realised he trembled too and with good reason. He was on the brink of knowing a female’s touch for the first time. His female’s touch.

  Sable untied the laces on his trousers and pushed the snug leather down his hips, freeing his erection. He growled at the hit of cooler air and then her first caress.

  He felt his eyes shine brighter scarlet as his emotions overwhelmed him and his horns curled further.

  Thorne grunted as she wrapped her slender hand around him and stroked him, long slow ones that ran from root to tip, brushing the blunt head and sending hot shivers shooting down to his balls. He curled his hips into her touch, chanting her name under his breath, and pressed his hands to the wall on either side of her head.

  Sable looked down at her hand on him and he looked down at her. She watched her hand intently as she stroked him, licked her lips and rubbed her thumb over the crown, smearing the pearl of moisture there. He growled and flexed his hips into her wicked caress.

  She raised her hands to his chest and he scowled at her until she forced him to turn. She shoved him back against the wall and ran her hands down his body, teasingly exploring his chest and stomach as she dropped to her knees before him.

  Sable took hold of his hips and pushed them into the wall, pinning him there. Thorne’s breathing quickened, the rough sound filling the room, and his heart thundered. She meant to taste him as he had tasted her. He groaned at just the thought, his knees threatening to give out. She closed her eyes, leaned in and darted her tongue around the soft head of his cock.

  He grunted and tensed as pleasure rolled down his length, causing his balls to draw up. She cracked her eyes open and her gaze sought his. Did she want to watch him while she pleasured him, as he had watched her?

  Did she desire to see how she affected him, how little he could restrain himself around her and how her touch was bliss?

  She wrapped her lips around him and took him deep into her mouth, and looked up the height of him. He stared down at her, finding it hard to keep his eyes open and keep still as she sucked him. He groaned, clenched his teeth and fought the urge to rock into her mouth, afraid that he would somehow hurt her.

  Her gaze darkened and drifted over his bare torso, blazing a trail across his muscles and tearing another moan from his throat. He wanted her to rake her nails over his body, leaving fiery streaks of red on his flesh, marks for him to remember this moment by.

  She sucked him harder, pressing her tongue into the ridge on the underside of his length as she withdrew and then pulling him back into her mouth, until the head brushed her throat. He grunted each time she sucked him inside, his hips flexing under her hands as he fought the need to thrust.

  He didn’t want to hurt her.

  He had promised to be gentle.

  She took one hand away from his hip and raked her nails lightly down his thigh. He shuddered and tipped his head back, his horns flaring forwards and fangs dropping as his lips parted.

  The first roll of his balls in her fingers in time with her sucking had him growling. The second had his hands flying above his head and his hips pumping, a string of dark curses leaving his lips at the same time. He clawed at the stones, arching his hips towards her, and she gave up holding him back.

  She used her other hand to stroke his shaft as she sucked him and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, and rolled and tugged his balls. He grunted and growled, his face screwing up and fangs sinking deep into his lower lip. He tasted blood and he wished it was Sable’s sweetness on his lips and her neck under his fangs.

  Her desire flooded the link between them again, speaking of her need and that she wanted another release. She wanted him inside her. He groaned and growled at her, warning that if she continued to think such wicked things, he would be powerless to resist fulfilling her desires.

  Sable tongued his slit, tasting him, and he muttered her name and clawed at the stone, leaving grooves in the dark rough rock and blunting his nails. He didn’t care. The alternative was to lay his hands on Sable and he didn’t trust himself right now. If he touched her, it would be hard to stop himself from pulling her up his body, turning with her and impaling her on his aching cock.

  She sucked him harder, increasing her strokes, and he grew thicker, his grunts darker as he climbed towards release. She squeezed his shaft and then rubbed the spot behind his balls and his roar echoed around the small room.

  His hips shoved forwards, thrusting his cock deep as he shot thick jets of seed into her mouth. She swallowed them all, gently stroking his thighs and suckling him, bringing him down slowly as he fought for breath, his heart hammering wildly against his chest and entire body quivering with release.

  All the while she watched him.

  He stood above her, his shoulders shoved hard against the wall and hips bowed forwards, every muscle on his body tensed and trembling. His fangs grazed his lips and the points of his horns flared close to his temples, visible in his peripheral vision.

  What did she think as she gazed up at him?

  Did she like how he appeared, wild and sated, lost to sensation and pleasure because of her?

  She sat back, releasing him and he lowered his head and stared down at her, feeling hazy and drugged, sluggish both in mind and body.

  The corners of his lips quirked into a sated smile. “I had always thought you had a wicked mouth. Now I know just how truly wicked it is.”

  She smiled with him.

  It slowly faded as he continued to stare down at her and a sliver of fear trickled through their connection.

  Sable thought he would say something else, something she didn’t want to hear yet desired to know at the same time.

  She was his little contradiction. His confusing little female.

  She was the woman he loved with all of his heart.

  CHAPTER 14

  Sable’s smile faded as the intensity of Thorne’s gaze increased. He was going to say something foolish and make her regret what they had done, and she didn’t want that.

  She stood and waited for him to ruin the moment.

  He tucked himself away and moved around her. Sable blinked. Not going to say something stupid, like she belonged to him now or he would make her his queen?

  Or he loved her?

  A bitter taste coated her tongue.

  Disappointment.

  Why? She didn’t want him to say something so ridiculous. She really didn’t.

  He came back to her and held her clothes out to her. She took them from him but he remained with his hand outstretched.

  “Come. I will take you back to your room.”

  So that was his plan. He was going to be all chivalrous and take her to her room, and once they were there, he would try to make love with her, or say something stupid to ruin the moment.

  Sable righted her top and quickly tugged her trousers on. She held her boots to her chest and took Thorne’s hand. The ground opened up beneath them and she closed her eyes as they dropped into it.

  When the cold disappeared, she opened them again. As promised, he had taken her to her room. The fire in the grate had gone out hours ago and the room was dark, lit by a single candle on the dressing table.

  Thorne gathered her closer to him, still staring down into her eyes, his striking ones enchanting her as she waited for him to say something, to do something to spoil the moment.

  He lowered his head and gave her the softest kiss she had ever experienced. The barriers holding her feelings back fractured, threatening to break as his lips gently played with hers, the kiss tender and rever
ent, filled with soft emotions.

  No one had ever kissed her like this.

  As if they loved her.

  As if she were their whole world.

  She shivered and wanted to pull away, but found herself moving closer instead, stepping into the shelter of his embrace. He wrapped his thickly muscled arms around her, caging her against his powerful hard body, and she tiptoed, seeking a deeper kiss from him.

  He refused her, keeping the kiss light and soft, playing havoc with her emotions and the dam holding them back. It fractured again and she felt she would drown in the impending flood if Thorne didn’t stop kissing her, didn’t stop tearing down her defences.

  Why had no one kissed her like this before?

  Why had she never kissed someone like this too?

  The tender play of his lips against hers and the careful way he held her tucked against him left her feeling she had been missing something all her life and in all her short term relationships.

  If this was how a man kissed when he was in love, then no one had ever loved her before Thorne, and she had no doubt that he felt that emotion for her.

  Was this what Olivia had with Loren?

  No wonder her friend had given herself to her elf prince, joining him in immortality for an eternity together.

  An eternity of this?

  Sable almost wanted to reach out and grab hold of it.

  Thorne drew back and looked down into her eyes, his filled with affection that left her feeling that it was already too late to save herself and she was drowning now, before the dam had even burst.

  She looked at him, waiting for him to do as she expected, wondering which it would be. Attempt to get inside her or say something stupid.

  Thorne released her, stepping back at the same time, and then raised her hand to his lips and pressed a long kiss to it, holding her gaze.

  He lingered.

  She waited for the inevitable.

  “Swear to me you will not wander the corridors alone again,” he said in a deadly serious tone, completely not what she had expected.

  “I swear.” Because she had absolutely zero intention of being so stupid in the future. She didn’t want to think about how badly this night might have gone if it hadn’t been Thorne who had found her in that small room in the bowels of the castle.

  He smoothed his hand across her cheek.

  She braced herself.

  He surprised her again by dipping his head and briefly brushing his lips across hers and then stepping away from her.

  “Goodnight, Sable.” He looked down into her eyes, his red ones overflowing with warmth and affection. The sound of her name leaving his lips warmed her inside and left her wishing he would use it more often rather than his pet name for her. “Try to get some sleep. You need to rest.”

  “So do you,” she said and why did she want him to sleep at the same time as her? She really had no idea. It wasn’t because he was clearly about to leave after being supremely chivalrous and sweet, when she had secretly wanted him to do something to make her feel he really bone-deep wanted her.

  Like she wanted him.

  And he had no intention of sleeping, so they couldn’t pick up in their dreams where they had left off in reality.

  “Do not worry yourself about me.” He dropped another kiss on her lips and then he was gone, leaving only a shrinking black patch on the wooden floor behind.

  That was the problem.

  She did worry about him.

  She worried about him, and she wanted to lift the burden on his shoulders, and wanted to keep him company in this long, sleepless night. She wanted to give him comfort, both emotionally and physically.

  She bone-deep wanted him.

  Holy hell.

  Lust for him? Yes. The other thing? No way.

  She did not love him.

  CHAPTER 15

  Thorne swung his broadsword up onto his shoulder and listened to the males around him as they discussed the best route to take through the land, pointing to various areas and tracks on the map he had laid out on the largest table in the library. Loren was against the idea and had voiced his opposition several times in the past fifteen minutes alone. The dark elf prince didn’t like the thought of leaving his female alone in the castle.

  Thorne gazed out of the arched window to his right, down to the courtyard below, quietly admitting to himself that he felt the same way. He didn’t want to leave Sable alone at the castle when she was clearly struggling. He could sense her even at this distance, a sign of their growing bond, and knew her worries had yet to fade.

  She had been working with her team of mortals for the past hour, commanding them to go through drills and looking every bit the powerful female and leader. He saw through her façade though. To him, she looked tired. Hadn’t she slept after their encounter?

  He hadn’t been able to either. He had paced the courtyard and then the walls, checking on the sentries and enjoying the quiet and the comforting embrace of darkness, and the lingering warm haze from his time with Sable. He had sent several of his best warriors to the villages to check on them and all reports had come back stating that the borders were quiet. After the earlier battle, it was a weight off his mind. He had feared that the Fifth King would seek to attack again, using his numbers to overwhelm Thorne’s forces and place strain on them.

  Perhaps word had reached the king of Sable’s ability.

  Thorne’s gaze tracked her, studying the luscious curves her tight black t-shirt and combat trousers only highlighted as she strode around the courtyard, watching several groups of her team as they trained with swords and other modern mortal weaponry. Her sleek black hair was up in a ponytail, something he had come to understand as a sign of intent. She meant business and he knew why.

  He was one king that word had reached last night. He had overheard his men speaking of him and Sable, and when he had questioned some of them, scaring them in the process as they hadn’t realised he stood nearby, they had revealed that Sable’s mortals also spoke of them.

  They were questioning her ability to lead them and had been hard on her after the battle.

  His little female hadn’t needed such behaviour from her subordinates in the aftermath of the fight, not when she had been questioning herself.

  She rubbed her wrist and he noticed that she had removed the cuff he had placed around it, and had covered it with a smaller leather one.

  “Thorne is miles away,” Grave said in a mocking tone that told him exactly what the male thought about his desire for Sable.

  Grave seemed to have a problem with females in general. Strange for a man who courted their attention, regaling them with stories of his victories and luring them back to his bedchamber.

  Thorne tossed him a warning glare and went back to perusing Sable, pondering what had happened and what she had told him. She bore a mark that she believed might be fae or demonic in origin and had no parents to question about it.

  She hadn’t lost them, as he had lost his.

  She had never known them.

  He found that difficult to believe. In his world, children were cherished. No demon would think of leaving his offspring to fend for itself.

  “She seems troubled today.” Loren’s deep voice came from nearby and he looked up at the elf in front of him, catching him gazing down at the courtyard.

  Thorne suppressed his urge to growl over Loren looking at his mate, fighting his instincts to protect what was his. The male had no interest in her other than as a friend so there was little need for him to feel threatened. Loren was mated and happy. Thorne wished he could experience such a thing himself. He wanted to bind himself to Sable. He wanted to be with his love and know she loved him too.

  He had made a small advance on his path to achieving that goal last night and had to keep his head and keep making those tiny leaps until she belonged to him. Allowing his instinct to claim her and drive away any male who looked upon her to take control of him would undo all of his progress. No matter how
hard it became, how fiercely his need for her drove him to attack any male in the vicinity, he had to keep fighting it or risk losing Sable.

  “She did not sleep last night,” Thorne said quietly, hoping the others wouldn’t hear him.

  They were deep in discussion about the planned hunt. He didn’t want to go but the men needed to bond if they were going to serve his purpose and help defend his kingdom. The vampires and werewolves in particular. His men had reported that many of those two species had been intent on attacking each other rather than fighting the demons of the Fifth Realm during the battle at the border village.

  Loren stared at him, evidently expecting more information.

  Thorne wanted to give it to the elf prince but it wasn’t his place. If Sable discovered he had spoken with Loren about her wrist and her power, she would be angry with him. He had faith that she would tell her friend, Olivia, given enough time. She would overcome her fears.

  Perhaps he could drop Loren a hint to pass on to Olivia though.

  He looked up at the prince, straight into his rich purple eyes. “She is troubled by something.”

  “What?”

  “I cannot say… but perhaps if Olivia were to ask her… perhaps she would benefit from speaking with her friend about it.”

  Loren’s expression turned grave. “Is it about your bond?”

  Thorne shook his head. “No. It is something else. Something personal. She requires a friend to speak with.”

  “I will speak with her.” That deep male voice had Thorne growling and swinging his gaze towards the owner.

  Bleu stood there, his wild black hair swept back from his forehead and his ears pointed, speaking of his emotions. He harboured feelings of aggression. Thorne did too. He wanted to tear the male’s head off for interrupting him and Loren, and daring to offer to speak with his mate.

  “You will do no such thing,” Thorne growled, because he didn’t want the wretched elf commander anywhere near Sable while she was confused and vulnerable. He would seek to take advantage of her.

  The voice at the back of Thorne’s mind said that many would consider what he had done last night with Sable as taking advantage of her.