AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Even playing through my worst fears about the situation, however, I know in my heart of hearts that Kha’zeth wouldn’t willingly hurt me. Nobody, not even a powerful soz’garoth demon, could fake the kind of sincerity I saw on his face in the garden.
You’re okay, I say, trying to soothe myself between shaky breaths. Everything is going to be fine.
While what will happen tonight between Kha’zeth and I weighs heavily on my mind, the repercussions of laying together feel even heavier. I’m supposed to carry his child, a demon whelpling. If all goes according to the King’s plans, I’m to be pregnant sooner rather than later.
The only time I’d ever considered being a mother was when I was with Toklys. We’d dream up the future, discussing the names of our children and the house we’d build far, far away from civilization.
Even in those wishful moments, however, I knew that any child I bore would be hunted and in constant danger.
At least here, I know my child would be protected. Even if I’m not.
Demons seem to value their young more than other races, perhaps because of their rarity, but the idea of a child of mine having the freedom to make their own decisions, to be schooled and raised in safety and joy, brings a small smile to my face.
Even pregnancy wouldn’t be that bad, I suppose.
I would be protected, looked after and Kha’zeth can summon anything I could ever want. The idea of him fawning over me while I’m round with his child only serves to widen my smile.
Kha’zeth would be a good father, I decide. After all, he has plenty of experience with the girls, and while he’s certainly a grouch, anyone can tell he loves them with his whole heart. Images of a pale, demon whelpling with my eyes and Kha’zeth’s nose dances in my head, and suddenly my situation doesn’t seem all that bad.
A knock sounds at the door and the blood in my veins turns to ice, effectively smothering any of the warm, fuzzy feelings I was having only seconds ago. My hands tremble at my sides, and I smooth down the soft, velvety fabric of the black dress I’d chosen for this evening.
The dress clings to my curves, the plunging neckline brushing against my exposed sternum as I readjust it. My back is open to the air, the long, gently curved opening on the back of the dress stopping just above my rear.
It’s a more beautiful, exposing garment than anything I’ve ever worn. I’d hoped it would give me some confidence tonight, or at least throw Kha’zeth off enough to level the playing field, but I’m not feeling very confident at all as I reach for the door handle.
I suck in a breath to say hello, but it catches in my throat as I realize the figure in the doorway isn’t Kha’zeth, but one of the squat zonak. Before I have the time to feel relieved – or disappointed – the zonak bows quickly to me and scurries down the hallway wordlessly.
Hesitating for only a moment, I follow him, struggling to keep up with his quick steps and regretting my wardrobe choice as I stumble over the hem of my dress. We twist and turn down various hallways, my heart pounding faster when we draw closer, expecting to run into Kha’zeth at every turn.
After several long moments of navigating through the house, I’m about to open my mouth to ask the zonak where exactly we’re going when he stops short before a massive set of double doors. The zonak issues a sharp knock before turning on his heel and practically fleeing back down the hall.
I watch him go, a part of me considering fleeing alongside him when the doors swing open.
Kha’zeth towers over me, clad in his usual all-black. I’m struck dumb at the sheer size and intimidating beauty of him, and swallow hard as I try to find my voice.
“Come,” he commands, his voice low and rough. The glint in his eye sends a trill of dreaded excitement down my spine as I obey, stepping inside the massive room.
Everything is built to accommodate the 7-foot demon, with a grand mahogany desk taking up nearly the entire wall and a plush, ornately patterned crimson rug underfoot, complete with a sprawling bed fitted with silken black sheets. My breath catches as I look at the bed, and I look away quickly, turning my attention back to Kha’zeth.
He shuts the door with a solid thud before turning to face me. Kha’zeth’s eyes rove over my face and body, looking like he means to eat me. Warmth pools between my legs as I stand there, fear and anticipation building in my stomach. My voice is tremulous when I finally find it. “How do you like the dress?”
“Take it off.”
My heart stumbles, and I do nothing but look at him for a moment before my body catches up to my brain. “All of it?” I slide the thin straps of the dress off of my shoulders, letting the fabric glide off of my shoulders and down my body to pool at my feet.
Kha’zeth makes a low noise as he watches me, a blush creeping up my neck as he drinks in every inch of me.
“Yes. All of it,” he growls, his eyes lingering on the thin, cotton underthings I had on beneath my dress. My hands tremble as I strip off my bra and slide my panties down my legs, stepping out of them on wobbly knees.
Kha’zeth’s fingers slowly, deliberately unclasp the neck of his tunic, his eyes glued to me as he lets the tunic drop and sets to work on his pants. My heart beats wildly in my chest as my eyes wander the broad expanse of his chest and abdomen, relishing in the thick cords of muscles taut beneath the skin on his arms as his pants drop to the floor at his feet.
A swallow my gasp at his completely bare form. Every bit of him is filled with lethal grace, his limbs supple and strong. Kha’zeth doesn’t shy away from my gaze, allowing me to take my fill as my eyes drop lower.
My mouth grows dry when I notice how big he is. It’s an effort to look back into his face, the ache deep in my core growing more pronounced as I meet his eyes. Kha’zeth prowls forward like a predator. I don’t dare to move, to breathe, as he comes to a stop before me.
I gasp as the rough pads of his fingers slide across my skin, tracing the curve of my breast, his already-slick head brushing against my stomach. Kha’zeth drops his lips to mine, brushing his tongue against the seam of my lips in request and demand.
I yield to him with a soft moan, tipping my head back to allow him access as he teases the hardening peaks of my breasts. One of his hands drops, skimming down my waist to grip my hip firmly, pulling me into him.
