Wicked Abyss Page 15
When they straightened even more as she stared, her ears flattened against her head. Anxious? Did she find his most demonic feature distasteful?
No, she couldn’t. Fate would never have paired them. He cupped her face. “Princess, you are my mate.”
Sian unlaced his pants and freed his cock. In his hell-change, the flesh had become pierced as if he were a demon of old—yet another part of himself rendered unfamiliar.
He dismissed the idea of a concubine, wanting nothing to distract him from this memory, one he’d replayed infinite times. With his mate near, his recollection was even more vivid. . . .
“Yours? You do not mean . . .”
“You are the only one I will love, the only one who can rid me of my demon seal, so I can give you younglings.” He grasped her arms, drawing her closer. Her trembling body yielded to his so sweetly, her soft breasts pressing against him. “Kari,” he rasped. “I plead: let me take your lips, as I’ve dreamed about.”
Those lips parted in surprise.
Sian desired her no less now than he did then: desperately. He wrapped her shift around his member, and all of a sudden he was sixteen again, his body stricken with lust for her. Would this craving never end?
His breaths were ragged. Moisture beaded the head of his cock, the closest he’d ever gotten to producing seed. Oh, yes, she is mine.
Though he wasn’t physiologically able to ejaculate, he knew he was about to orgasm harder than he had since his time in Sylvan, when he would come with her scent fresh in his mind. . . .
Savoring the feel of her against him, he said, “Fate gave you to me.” As he gazed down at her heartbreakingly lovely face, his chest tightened. He felt connected to her—as if he’d been awaiting her from his first breath. Nothing else mattered but her. “I know you want me too.” He leaned down, and his mouth covered hers.
She parted her lips for him! When their tongues touched, pinpoints of light exploded behind his lids. Her kiss was like a lightning strike combined with a wave crashing over him.
Electrifying, sending him off balance.
Or righting his balance for the very first time.
He groaned with bliss. This is the way of it. Of matehood. He finally understood.
Sian didn’t cherish her because he desired her; he desired her because he cherished her.
When he deepened their soul-shattering kiss, she gasped against his lips. Her innocent surprise would have stolen his heart had he not already given it to her.
At the memory, Sian began to culminate. His heels dug into the mattress, his fist flying up and down his shaft. His wings contracted, then flared.
His lungs emptied on a bellow, so loud his tower rocked. The mirror cracked. Volcanoes all over his lands erupted with each pulse of his cock as the pleasure went on and on. . . .
With a last shudder of his wings, he sprawled across the bed, catching his breath. Tension melted from him. He felt like he floated, like he’d been drugged.
He’d just come harder than he had as an adult male.
Now that his lusts had been slaked, his hatred returned. Their one kiss had lasted only a brief time because she’d drawn back to tell him, “The Draiksulian king trusts me; perhaps I should save my kisses for him.”
Sian hadn’t been able to reveal information to her fast enough. He must have given her all she’d needed to know that night; the next morning, she’d severed him from her life completely.
Treacherous bloody female!
Yet still his body floated. . . .
She was the key to his release, in more than one sense. For all of Sian’s power, he was denied something so simple: spending.
Over his lifetime, he’d grown more and more obsessed with the idea. A couple of months back, on a night when Sian and Rune had shared too much demon brew, Sian had asked his friend, “What is it like to spill seed?”
After eons of waiting, Rune had recently lost his own demon seal to his mate, a phantom/vampire halfling named Josephine. “There is no describing it,” Rune had said. “Before I met Josie, I had total control over myself for thousands of years, could fuck for hours on end, days even.” He’d leaned in to admit, “I lasted two thrusts inside her before I exploded. Came so hard my vision blurred. It’s . . . mind-altering.”
Sian must know what this felt like! Snapping his fangs, he threw Kari’s shift across his room.
Now that she’d returned, the intensity of all his emotions made him realize he’d been sleepwalking through his eternal life.
If he hadn’t had the Møriør . . .
He redressed, then used magic to repair the mirror. He would have to deal with the gathered legions sometime today. But for now, he watched his prisoner go about her futile labor.
At the last moment, Sian might let her complete her task—but only so he could see how she reacted to new stimuli. . . .
ELEVEN
Lila had just finished gathering the last of the webs when the first spider crawled in from a hole in the roof.
Early. It wasn’t dawn yet.
The size of a punch bowl, the arachnid had red and silver splotches across its bulbous body and long bushy legs. Yes, demon, I do fear spiders.
Seeming to focus all of its eyes on her, the spider skittered along the ceiling, then paused. It’s waiting for me to fail.
She’d read about the mystical labors in hell; was she now immersed in one?
Keeping the new threat in sight—and inwardly screaming—she continued her chore. Focus, Lila. But she was even more unnerved than before because she’d heard a roar from somewhere across the castle.
Abyssian’s roar. It had to have been. And for some reason, it’d sounded . . . sexual.
Despite her overstimulation, she shuddered to think of the demon as a sexual being. He was too big, too violent, and apparently he lost all control in the throes, roaring like a beast.
So much for insta-love toward his long-lost mate. While torturing Lila, he was screwing someone else—probably some lusty, big-boned demoness with claws and ponderous breasts. Had that roar scared the female?
Or delighted her?
Lila supposed Abyssian’s body as a whole wasn’t unattractive. But she still couldn’t comprehend why females would pursue him.
The subject was forgotten when another spider crawled in to join the first. Then another. And another, until a dozen had gathered. Did they plan to wrap her in their silk at dawn?