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She doesn't need to know that the whole blood ritual is totally unnecessary. Giving someone my word means exactly that—a spoken promise of intent. But my blood will give her a little taste of the pleasure to come once my bride gives in to her desires. If she's this responsive to a few drops, Satan only knows what drinking my blood from the source will do to her.
My cock throbs painfully.
Soon, my mind whispers.
"I give you my word I will not use my… Jedi mind tricks to rob you of your free will," I say roughly before removing my palm from hers and bringing her hand to my mouth.
"Now what are you doing?" she asks breathlessly.
I smirk. "Seeing if you taste as delicious as you look."
I lick her palm, sealing the small wound with my saliva, before slowly sucking her index finger into my mouth. I flick my tongue over her skin, groaning as her sweetness sizzles along my tastebuds.
Penelope shivers as goosebumps skitter up her arms, and her nipples tighten to hard points against the silk of her gown. Her heavy breasts rise and fall with her labored breaths as she subtly squeezes her thighs together.
Oh, yes, my virginal bride is far from unaffected by my touch. I glimpse a spark of resilience in her hooded eyes, the glimmer of a flame waiting to be kindled. A furnace of untapped passion beneath all that creamy skin, just waiting to be released. Waiting for me.
I drag my mouth up her finger, nibbling on the sensitive tip before releasing it. Leaning further forward, I slide a taloned hand into the soft hair at her nape and claim her mouth. I’m not gentle, showing no mercy as I thrust my tongue inside to taste her, dominating her mouth and nipping at her soft lips.
Penelope releases a small moan as I pull back, her mouth instinctively following mine.
I smirk. "I think that kiss proves that force will never be necessary when it comes to introducing you to the pleasures of the flesh, little one. But I can wait. I'll show you my world while we get to know each other a little better." I flick my tongue over her swollen lower lip. "But know this; you and I are inevitable, and you will be mine in every way."
Chapter Six
Penelope
Two weeks have passed since my unexpected and unwanted wedding to a demon.
At first, I thought I'd traded my gilded cage with my father for a pewter prison cell with my demon husband. Mammon made a bargain with my father, not me, and I wasn’t prepared to roll over and be his little wifey.
But Mammon isn't what I expected. Since the wedding, he's been almost… sweet to me. He's given me more freedom and consideration in the last few weeks than my father allowed me in twenty-one years. He's been surprisingly patient, attentive, and understanding, giving me time and space to come to terms with my new reality.
My hurt and anger have cooled, if only toward Mammon. Now, my wrath is aimed solely at my father. Whenever I think of his betrayal and how profoundly he fooled me, the burn of fury almost takes my breath away.
I spent my life under the illusion that he loved me deeply. It made me blindly, foolishly loyal to him. I was his acolyte, and he tossed me away. My father never loved me. He only wanted a sacrificial pawn to trade for his narcissistic agenda.
Mammon explained his role in Hell and how my father approached him before I was even born. He's a demon. He was doing what demons do when he made the deal with my father. But Forest Truman, the man who was supposed to protect and cherish me, is the real monster.
Seeing Mammon waiting at the altar was a huge shock. I thought I was going to pass out when I saw his massive form, speared tail, and burning eyes. So I did what any sheltered princess would do under those circumstances—I screamed like the virginal bride I was. I was so overwhelmed with the situation and my father's betrayal, and Mammon looked so…intimidating. So, yeah, I screamed for a minute straight until my father hit me.
I barely felt the blow—I was more shocked that he'd raised his hand to me. And no one was more surprised than me when Mammon stepped in, making it deathly clear my father would never harm me again. Mammon's touch was oddly gentle when he wiped away my tears. I saw something in his eyes, something that made me pause—a sliver of humanity swirling in his scarlet gaze. And I knew that sliver of humanity was more than my father had in his entire body. At that moment, I knew I was safer with a demon than with my own father.
I'm no longer the naive girl with stars in her eyes. I'm a married woman with vengeance in her heart. When I think of a monster now, I don't picture Mammon's hulking form, sharp, proud features, or scarlet eyes. No, I picture my father.
I've come to look at Mammon—my husband—in a different light. He was terrifying at first. But now… now he makes me feel things I couldn't have imagined when I first saw him. Yeah, I know. Who would've thought I'd find a demon sexy? Not me.
But, sweet mercy, that kiss! I thought I was ready for my first kiss. I was wrong. There was no way to prepare for Mammon.
The second his lips touched mine, he unleashed a tsunami of need, a maelstrom of ravenous hunger and explosive lust. I had no idea how to kiss properly, and he didn’t guide me; he simply took what he wanted, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and devouring me. I never imagined that kind of invasion, but it was so raw, so primal, and made me shudder with delight in his arms.
His mouth consumed mine in an act that was so much more profound than a kiss. He flooded my senses and demanded everything inside me without remorse. He called to some dark, hidden part of me that was born with my father's betrayal, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of innocence.
And I loved it.
I wanted more.
Mammon has treated me with respect. The day after our wedding, he gave me a tour of the vast mansion he calls home. I'm accustomed to luxury, albeit within the confines of my strict upbringing, but Mammon's home is on a whole other level. Being one of Lucifer's best soul reapers obviously has its perks.
