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His grip tightened around her throat, and he shoved her back on the bed. Her eyes sprang open to meet the demon’s black stare. His dark lips curled into a sneer.
“I can taste your indecision. Do you fight because I’m a monster? Or do you surrender like the sweet little slut your body wants to be?”
More out of reflex than any conscious decision, she pushed against his chest. He released her neck to catch her hands. With his fist around her wrists, he stretched her arms above her head and pinned her to the mattress. His free hand stroked her cheek. The dull tips of his black, clawed fingertips dragged across herskin, raising gooseflesh over her body as they skimmed down her collarbone to slip into the robe’s front.
She licked her lips, wanting to speak, but unsure of what to say. If this demon was Drastos, he’d been keeping a secret identity for years—or as he’d just said, centuries. If she let on that she knew who he was, she wouldn’t survive the night. He’d told her earlier. He told her he’d have to kill her.
Oh fuck.
It made sense. He couldn’t know that she recognized him. Although…
“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” she asked. Her voice was so meek and shaky, she barely recognized it herself. Fear compounded as her eyes adjusted to the moonlight spilling through the glass balcony door.
His brow arched. “Why, I’m going to fuck you, of course.” His fingers hooked the belt at her waist and tugged the knot. “Isn’t that obvious?”
She swallowed, flinching as he pulled the end of the belt loose with a hard yank.
“And after? Will you—will you…” she trailed off, unable to continue. She didn’t want to die tonight.
He flicked each side of the robe away from her body, exposing her completely. “After? Maybe there will be no after.” He nodded as if the plan pleased him. “Maybe I will keep you forever, my own little pet.”
Would that be the end of the world? As opposed to dying, maybe not. Then again, what about her life? Her dreams? Her goals? Her fucking dissertation and all the time she’d already poured into it?
Death, or become a demon’s sex pet.
This was never supposed to be a choice she had to make.
He caressed her breasts, sweeping his claws from one to the other in lazy, deliberate circles.
Squirming, she locked her knees together. If she could buy some time, then maybe… maybe… maybe what?
The demon leaned down and licked her jaw, the sensual action giving her a close-up view of the black horns that swept away from his face and another glimpse of the silver streak. This was Drastos. She no longer had a doubt.
How she felt about it was still a tumble of confusion and anxiety, but she clung to the tiny comfort.The demon you know, and all that.
“And I have no say in the matter?” she asked.
He chuckled, his lips touching her neck and bathing it in the heat of his breath. “Say all you want. Scream if you’d like. No one will hear you except me, and I happen to find your voice to be absolutely delicious.”
His head lowered to capture a nipple with his lips. He sucked and nibbled, her pleasure undeniable as he teased the hardened bud with sharp teeth that were somehow careful. For all her fear in this moment, her attraction to Drastos overpowered it. Even in this demon form with dark red skin and claws, she wanted him. Perhaps she was even more aroused. Could fear heighten the pleasure? She didn’t know what to expect; had no control, and that held its own enticement.
She writhed beneath him, and as he switched his attention to her other breast, a moan escaped. Fuck. Her right nipple was always more sensitive than the left, nothing to be embarrassed of, and yet even with her life hanging in the balance, heat flooded her cheeks. As his tongue swirled and teased, her lower belly fluttered and she felt the hot rush of her arousal pooling, broadcasting exactly how he affected her.
Drastos bit down hard, infusing the pleasure with pain in a divine moment that made her gasp. The sound must have pleased him; he lifted his head to reveal a wicked smile. Gazingdown her body, he cupped between her legs and sank one of his fingers into her wet folds.
Her body’s response rippled upward, and her mouth shot open. Her nipples ached for more attention, and every part of her felt alive.
He groaned as he slid his finger in and out of her tight channel. “The things I want to do to you.”
She whimpered, not at his words but at the way her hips wanted to buck against him. She wanted to ride him. He’d barely touched her, and already she was primed to go.
The bed creaked as he knelt beside her. He grabbed the discarded belt. After tying it around her wrists—an action she watched rather languidly—he looped it around a bedpost and wrapped the loose end around his hand. He jerked on the improvised lead. The satin belt was surprisingly strong and tugged her up the bed. She scooted back until he appeared satisfied with her position against the bedpost and a mound of pillows.
He joined her on the bed, crowding her on the full-size mattress. Her bed was far too small for demon intruders. His hand shook as if throwing dice, and dashed her thoughts away. He’d grabbed something. What from where? Perhaps from under the pillows, but Alyssa knew her bedroom, and she kept nothing there.
“What did you—Ah!”
Gaping down, she saw a small clamp on her left nipple. It hurt, and she thrashed and squeaked in protest while he looked on with clear, despicable delight. When he reached toward her again, she twisted away.
