Page 29 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

“Where did all of this come from?” she asked, still in his arms.

“My original estate is not far from here. No one has disturbed it since I last visited it, so it must be as hard to find as ever.”

“Estate? How can you own an es—” she said before remembering that Vallen had once been human. Who was to say he hadn’t been a rich human, perhaps even a lord?

“Wealth is acquired over time, and demons have a lot of time.”

Or that, she supposed. “How long are you going to hold me?” she asked, having gone cold now that the magic he had used on her had died away.

“All morning.” He slowly smiled, teeth gleaming even in the dim interior. A wave of arousal rolled over her, and she knew he’d pulled the strings on his magic again, renewing her hunger. He lowered her to the lush carpet and set her back against several pillows. She wanted his arms around her, his body warming hers, and couldn’t help clinging to him as he pulled away to close the tent flap.

He chuckled at her eagerness. “Don’t worry, dear Shumei. I will return to your arms soon.”

Still of enough sound mind to feel embarrassed, she was grateful when he secured the flap against even the smallest seam of light, for anything brighter than a candle would let him see the blush crawling up her neck. But even the heat of her shame was nothing compared to the sexual excitement budding within her, turning her heavy and sluggish. She squirmed among the pillows holding her up as if she were an offering to the Divine One. Or a sacrifice to a demon.

She tried to push the thought away and told herself he wanted a steady source of energy. He wasn’t looking to gorge himself on her, yet the idea of being so literally consumed…

He returned to her side, the fine lines of his face betraying his hunger, tightly reined. His expression somehow thrilled rather than frightened her.

“Do you wish to see foreplay, then?” he asked, settling against her right side. He slid his arm beneath her shoulders, and his face drew near. Her heart leapt.

“Can’t you just tell me?”

Laying his hand on her knee, he smiled as though he knew a secret. “That could be just as delicious, I suppose.”

Another pulse of arousal made her back arch, forcing a sigh from her lips. She thought that maybe they should take off their shoes.

“I’d start by removing your belt and kissing your petal-soft lips,” he said, though his actions didn’t mirror his words. Rather, he drew up her skirt, slowly revealing her ankles and shins. “Then I’d part your dress and marvel over the sliver of porcelain skin I find.”

Her skirt traveled higher, passing over her knees. Her heart pounded in her ears, and she found herself softly panting.

“I should touch you gently and savor the feel of your skin, but I’d be far too impatient.” The last came out as a harsh whisper. “My lips would travel lower, tasting your neck, your breasts, and the dip in your stomach.”

She shivered as phantom sensations manifested where and how he’d described them. Was this magic, or just the power of his sultry voice? She felt silly clutching her hands to her chest, but her nerves wouldn’t let her relax.

“Then I’d lie between your legs and nuzzle the sweet treasure between your thighs,” he said with a low moan. “What a delicious pussy it’ll be.”

She blinked in revelation. “That’s what a pussy is? Down there?”

He smiled, clearly amused. “You did not know?”

“No,” she mumbled. “I mean, I’ve heard that word, but I…didn’t know its meaning at the time.”

He made a pensive sound and slipped his hand into her dress. Taken by surprise, she grabbed his wrist.

“Gods, Shumei, don’t stop me when I’m so close,” he groaned, pulling her hand up to his shoulder. “Hold me here instead. Squeeze when I make you feel good.” She looked at him with a mixture of arousal and uncertainty but kept her hand in place.

He found her knee again and delved under the skirt bunched up on her thighs. She wanted to pinch her legs shut, embarrassed by how wet she’d become, but he already knew just how ready she was for him, didn’t he? What he didn’t know—couldn’t know—was how much she’d imagined his big, warm hands seeking out her most secret places over the last week. After all, the binding only worked over a short distance, right?

A small flicker of heat lit his cold, calculating eyes, which watched her closely as he stroked his hand up her thigh. He cupped her mound without hesitation, and she took in a shaky breath.

“This is your pussy,” he said, massaging gently. She shut her eyes, too embarrassed to meet his gaze any longer. “And between your lips”—he split her open with two fingers—“is a sweet bit of flesh that makes you moan my name.” She dug her fingers into his shoulder. “My favorite part of foreplay is sucking a woman’s clit.”

“Clit?” she hoarsely repeated. Another new word.

The rest of his sentence hardly registered, for he swiped his finger through her arousal and used it to tease and swirl that sensitive nub. Waves of heat. Tingles. She would’ve moaned but her voice was gone, so he groaned for her and pressed his erection against her leg. She could sense his ache for her. It was sharp, almost painful. Or was she feeling her own pleasure, pulling her deeper into the pillows and twitching through her writhing body, while at the same time lifting her up to float near the cloth ceiling? In either case, she wanted more.

She was easing her thighs farther apart when his hand left her without warning. She glanced at him in time to see his slick middle finger disappear between his lips. Her heart jolted. Was he…tasting her?