Damn Me: A Paranormal Demon Romance (The Demonology Series Book 4)

by Felicity Brandon

  No hesitation now, and no shame in asking for what I wanted. He knew me better than I wanted to admit. Better than anyone. If I had to suffer this debasement, where was the harm in reveling in it?

  I gasped at the impact, my lips curling at the recognition of just how close I was. Close to freefalling into paradise.

  Just one more. That was all I needed—one more strike to shove me straight into this glorious, shameful surrender. Just one more moment of stimulation and all the disgrace and embarrassment would have been worth it.

  “We are done.” He rested his hand at the top of my burning behind, inches away from the place I needed it, the place my clit felt like it was going to explode. “Your punishment is done.”

  “But Master,” the words burst from me, the loss choking. “Please, I am so close. Please!”

  “Close, huh?” He chuckled at my desperation. “Well, that is pleasing to hear, Cathy—an unexpected pleasure from this process. Thank you.”

  “Please....” I dug my nails into the palms of my hand, wanting to cry with frustration. How could he do this to me? How could he take me so close and then offer no solace at all? How could he be so fucking cruel?

  “This is not cruelty,” he assured, whisking me from over his lap and setting me back on my feet.

  I turned away at once, unwilling to meet the arrogant glint I knew would be waiting for me in that dark gaze,

  “Cruelty is tying you to a tree and whipping you for hours at a time. It is wrapping your body in wire, so every time you skip away from my whip, your beautiful skin pays the price. It is inviting the local hordes to witness your denigration before they help themselves to your sore, helpless body. Those fates could be described as cruel, but not this, Cathy. This is only a little denial, and denial is good for the soul.”

  I pulled in a deep breath, my gaze searching the darkening sky as I tried to fight back the tears.

  “Even I have tasted my share of denial. I was cast out of heaven, remember? I know all there is to know about disavowal.” He paused, reaching for my wrist before tugging my body to face his. “Cathy.” His tone was darker now. “Do not play with me, little girl. I will make you regret it.”

  In the end, it was that threat of more punishment that broke me, my attention returning to his face through the blur of my tears.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I sniffed.

  Reaching for my other hand, he drew me closer to the place he sat before rising to his full height before me, like a beautiful dark angel.

  “Thank me for the lesson.” He arched a brow, ensuring I realized he was serious.

  Thank him? Was he fucking crazy, but even as the thought resonated, I knew I was going to do it. I would cede, just as I had surrendered before. I would lose, and Satan would win.

  “Thank you, Master.”

  There, I had said it, though in the blur of my mixed emotions, I didn’t know if I meant it or not.

  “There.” A gentler tone now. “You got through it.”

  He pulled me close into a hard embrace, and as though the final fragments of my pride waved a white flag, the tears I tried to hold inside fell in earnest. I’d always considered myself a strong woman, an independent soul, and that no man could be my equal, but Satan was no man, and sobbing into his torso, I knew I had well and truly met my match.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Satan

  Mortal tears rarely moved me. If I had collected every one that had fallen because of me over the years, I would have enough to create my own ocean, enough to drown in. On the whole, I treated them with the same disdain I treated most screams and pleas for mercy, ignoring those that irritated and reveling in the ones that stirred me. Cathy’s tears were different, just as much about the woman seemed to be unique. When she sobbed into my chest, the emotion roused me, stirring senses I scarcely ever acknowledged. The need to protect her, to take her obvious physical weaknesses and, rather than use them against her, permit them to inspire this new, more generous side of me. I held her, not because I wanted anything out of the gesture or thought I could exploit the situation, but because it felt right. It was what she needed, and for some reason, I wanted to give it to her.

  Running my fingers through her hair, I mused on the change of tack. It was unlike me to be tender, but this, like the first time I’d claimed her, had proven to be an unexpected quandary for me. I would dominate the little Guardian with no qualms, just as I would fuck her when it suited me, but this wave of affection for the mortal was perturbing. She was so warm and vulnerable in my arms, but rather than the usual desire to rip at the flesh I cradled, Cathy only inspired compassion. I sighed at the paradox, deciding not to dwell on it. Whatever it was that affected me about her this way was bound to fade, just as the novelty of her smooth skin would wane, and the impact of each breathless sigh would diminish.

  Letting out a small shudder, her sobs finally subsided, and with a sniff, she lifted her chin to meet my eyes. I caught sight of her sorrowful little expression, employing my fingers to graze her wet cheek and stroke her flawless jaw.

  “Do you feel better?” I assumed that was what the tears had all been about, some release of emotion to unburden her now the spanking was done.

  “A little,” she croaked, “but I have a headache.”

  “You need to hydrate,” I told her matter-of-factly. “I always forget how reliant you humans are on the basic needs.”

  Lifting my hand from her heated backside, I conjured what she needed, a cool glass of spring water. “Here.” I withdrew enough to thrust the glass into one of her hands. “Drink.”

  Wide eyes met the command, but she did not counter the point, and I waited as she drained the water in front of me. A swell of pride bloomed in my chest at her compliance, and that odd feeling that I wanted to look after her flowed over me again.

  “Thank you, Master.” There was almost a smile as she handed the glass back to me.

  “More?” I inquired. “I want you well, and that means hydrated.”

  “Please.” Her gaze lowered, and right then, as her coy lips curled for me, assuring me of what I already knew—the spanking had not been too much for Miss Bateman to bear, even if the denial had been difficult to tolerate. “Can I ask a question?”

  My cock, already straining for release at her responses, swelled at the breathy way she had sought permission. It was only a small thing—nothing in the grand scheme of the universe—but standing in the clearing, it felt monumental.

  “You want to know why I did not let you come?” Her lips parted as her gaze met mine, the smallest ball of heat blossoming at her cheeks. “I would have thought it was obvious.”

  “Because you wanted to punish me?”

  She breathed the words up toward me, somehow able to make them sound like the most bewitching comment of all time. I did not know what it was about the diminutive mortal, but there was something, something that spoke to me, goaded me, made my cock grow, and my instincts close around her like a shield. I would protect her interests, even though it made no sense to me. It was what I coveted.

  “Correct.” I refilled the water in her glass, waiting for her to drink it. “It would not have been much of a lesson if it concluded with a climax.”

  The blush at her face burned a little brighter at my assessment. “No, I suppose not. It was just horrible.”

  “Worse than the spanking?” I probed with a chuckle. “I was not taking any prisoners on the delectable backside of yours, Cathy.”

  She glanced down at her ass. “Yeah, I noticed, Master.”

  There was the invigorating Guardian again, the woman I had temporarily pulverized with my palm, but I had not been a fool enough to think she was gone for good, and staring down at her, I was pleased. This was the side of Cathy that fascinated me the most. The part of her that would have banished me in a heartbeat had she had the strength. The aspect that had a magic of her own, but still, I had tamed her a little, her wings had been clipped, the way she addressed me was pr
oof of that alone.

  “But yes, it was much worse.” She screwed her face up at the memory of how close she had come to detonating under the weight of my palm.

  “It is not my preferred choice of penance,” I admitted, dismissing the glass from her fingers before I drew her bare flesh back against my body. The clearing was warm, but still, the desire to keep her safe and warm was there, guiding my actions. “But you deserved it for the way you spoke to me.”

  A flicker of defiance burned in her eyes at my assertion, her thoughts conjuring retorts about how I had deserved the language, but to her credit, she kept those protests locked inside.

  “Be a good little Guardian, and I need not ever deny you again.” I skimmed my lips over her open mouth, eliciting a guttural groan from her. “It is not what I want, Cathy. You must understand that.”

  She shook her head slowly as my caress ended. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” she admitted. “I fear you’re taking me over, but it’s nothing like I thought it would be.”

  One flick of my hand lifted her feet from the ground below, and she gasped as I levitated her there, wrapping her legs around my middle while I pulled her chest against me. “You imagined pain, I suppose? Flames and vengeance?” It was always the same with mortals. They envisioned demonic oppression as constant torment and suffering, and while my kind more than had the prowess to enact that, it was not always our weapon of choice. It was, for instance, much more fun to engage the mortal in another way, to lure them in another guise, to seduce them, the way I had ensnared Cathy.

  “Yes.” She grasped my back with her small hands, no doubt disconcerted by the influence I had over her body. “But you are different.”

  “As are you, little mortal.”

  Holding her feather-like body weight, I squatted back to the trunk that had provided a seat while I spanked her, clutching her close.

  “What’s happening between us, Master?” she whispered the question into my collar bone, as though she could not meet my gaze. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “You have so many queries,” I chided playfully, pressing my lips into the delicious side of her neck. Below my lips, I sensed her pulse, pounding rhythmically in her veins, the sound lulling and attracting me in equal measure. “I have already told you I mean to keep you. You captivate me too much to do what should be done, and since there is no prince higher than me in all of Hell, it means your fate is with me for the time being.”

  “For the time being?” She blinked at me, our faces just a few inches from one another. “Please, be honest with me, Master. Does that mean forever?”

  Searching her mind briefly, I saw little sign of duplicity. It seemed Miss Bateman’s concerns were genuine.

  “Forever is a mighty long time, Cathy,” I mused, stroking the side of her face. “And I ought to know. Immortality is a curse, as well as a blessing. I do not think I would compel it on any mortal who did not deserve it.”

  “So, you do intend to kill me then?” She panted against me. “In the end, that will be my fate.”

  “All mortals are born to die,” I reminded her. “But I have no intention of being the one that halts your life, beautiful. We shall have fun, you and I. We shall inspire miracles together. There is more to me than meets the eye, my friend. While you cede as wonderfully as do, you have nothing to fear from me.”

  She shifted in my lap. “But I must submit?”

  “You will,” I assured her. “Because you have no choice, and just like today, you will learn how much more there is to gain when you please me.”

  Cathy drew in a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment, and when they opened again, there was resolve in her gaze. She was less torn by the weight of the contradiction she felt pushing upon her.

  “Why did you bring us here?” Craning her neck, she took in the look of the canopy of trees high above us.

  “Master,” I reminded her with a smile. She was less fraught now, more content in my arms, and that was how I wanted her, but she would still remember her place.

  Her lips twitched. “Master.”

  “I like it,” I told her honestly. “I have always enjoyed nature, though I so rarely have the opportunity to surround myself in it.”

  “It seems like the sort of place my ancestors might have practiced our craft,” she murmured absently. “I like it, too.”

  “Your instincts do you credit.” Her focus fell back on me with the compliment. “This was once a place of worship and sacrifice, though not all those who came here sought to counter me.”

  She stared at me, her brow creasing. “I never considered it from your point of view before,” she admitted. “You are always cast as the villain, and I have never given it more thought than that.” She pressed her lips together, considering the implications of the admission. “I am sorry for that. All creatures deserve respect.”

  “Even those you are sworn to cast out?” My brow arched at the paradox, and her pulse quickened at the gesture. “It is quite the conflict.”

  “Yes, even those. I have been taught to respect nature and all living things.”

  “Ah, but I am not living,” I replied. “Not in the way you mean.”

  She shivered, snuggling closer to me. “You seem like flesh and blood to me.”

  “Just an illusion, I’m afraid.” I tilted my head to regard her. “Are you cold? I can take us back to your home.”

  “Not yet,” she answered at once. “Please. I like it here.”

  “Making demands on me again, are we?” I teased, and she laughed bashfully.

  “I’m sorry, Master,” she murmured, grazing her lips over my jaw. “It’s like they say, old habits die hard.”

  I sniggered at her analysis, manifesting a blanket in my left hand. “Take this,” I said, already opening and wrapping the fabric around her. “I do not want you to be unwell.”

  “Only repressed and restrained?” Her eyebrow rose with the query, her tone sardonic.

  “Precisely.” I pressed my lips into her, exploring her mouth until she melted against me like butter.

  “What is it like?” she gasped when I finally pulled away from her lips. “What is it like to be you? To be Satan?”

  I grinned at the innocence of her question. “It is quite the trial,” I replied theatrically. “All the carnage and debauchery, but somebody has to do all the dirty work, and it might as well be me.”

  She licked her lips. “I was being serious,” she insisted. “You have made me think about it for the first time in my life, and well…” She paused. “I might never get another chance to ask.”

  Lifting my hands to either side of her face, I captured her between my palms gently. “You want the truth?”

  Cathy nodded as best she could. “Please, Master.”

  I smiled at her show of deference, satisfied her curiosity was based on genuine concern and nothing more nefarious. “It is both benediction and burden,” I began. “I hear my critics laughing. I see the light in their eyes dwindle when they finally appreciate my power. It is a neverending dance we insist on enacting.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you, though, to be so loathed and hated?”

  I shrugged. “Not really. In truth, I often relish the vilification. My critics fall into one of two dull camps these days. There are those who believe, who have read the scriptures and accepted the word of the apostles at face value. If the good book says I am evil, then I must be evil, right? No questions asked.” My brow rose before I rolled my eyes. “Then there are those who never read the book at all, or who did not believe the things they were spoon-fed. Those are the most fun to corrupt. Those are the ones who cannot believe their eyes, and I literally blow their mind. For I cannot be real, can I? Such ancient evil cannot exist, but it does, Cathy.” I smiled at her amazed expression. “It really does.”

  “I know,” she breathed. “My family and I have been managing evil like you all my life.”

  “There are others in your family with the same gi
fts as you?” My thoughts flitted back to Lucien’s warning just before I had left perdition. He had discovered the mortal he possessed, Penny, was a blood relation to Cathy.

  “Some.” She tensed at the inquiry about her family, and she was wise to do so. I was still unresolved about the matter of how to deal with any other Guardian who might be lurking in the background.

  “Any I should know about?” I employed my sardonic tone again but ensured she knew I spoke only in jest. If there were other Guardians out there who needing managing, I was not thinking of them now. With her breathy pants and scintillating sex, all of my attention was reserved exclusively for Cathy.

  “No, Master.” She met my gaze, drawing her lower lip between her teeth in an utterly salacious display. “And even if there were, you know I wouldn’t tell you, anyway.”

  “Really?” I pressed my temples gently into her. “I’d have to torture you for the information, would I?”

  “Absolutely,” she breathed. “I’d suggest a good, hard spanking as a starter.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cathy

  By the time he transported us back to the house, I was desperate for him, aroused beyond reason, but more than that, I had a better understanding of the creature, a comprehension of the existence he’d led. He was still a fiend, I was in no doubt about that, but somehow, spending time with Satan had diluted the effect. I no longer feared him the way I should. Moreover, I just yearned for him. For his time and attention, the long, thick cock, I knew he was keeping in those pants. It occurred to me, in lucid moments, that the real sense of my power was being lost to his authority. That I was less of myself because of him, but when he swept me into his arms, pressing hot kisses to my nape and whispering things that had the power to leave me reeling, I knew something else was happening, too. I was exponentially more because of his focus, like clay he had molded into the perfect shape—the shape I should always have been.

  The difference was real and undeniable.