Kiss of a Demon King

He hissed a curse as he bolted to his feet. Grabbing her by the waist, he hauled her over to a flat boulder. When he sank down on it, he laid her across his legs.

'What are you doing?' With her hands tied, she could do nothing to prevent him.

'Keeping my promises.' Just as she realized what he was talking about, he shoved her skirt up to her waist.

'Rydstrom, just wait!' She wriggled when he yanked her panties to her ankles. 'Demon-'

He brought his palm down with a loud slap. It stung, but it sounded worse than it felt.

This was his revenge? Would he mind if she slept through it? 'Is that all you've got, demon? Was that punishment or affection? I'm confused-'

Whap! She whistled in a breath on that one, writhing over his lap. Another slap, followed by stinging pain, then another. His other hand was kneading her thigh. He was excited by this, heaving his breaths.

And something began to happen to her. To her amazement, she was growing aroused. What was it about the demon? Would there ever be a time when he couldn't make her want him? Maybe like right now, when he was spanking her ass and seemed a razor's edge away from throttling her?

But she was hyper-attracted to strength, and the demon was the strongest male she'd ever encountered. She'd never forget him fighting those guards-the ferocity within him. . . .

With his next slap, her cry turned to a moan, bewil­dering her. Even he hesitated.

She was a true daughter of the Sorceri-a hedonist who would take her pleasure where she found it. Here she was in the wilds of the realm, captive of a demonic being, receiving blows-and her illusions of fire were already lighting the night.

What a surprise, she thought, with the faintest smile.

She maneuvered over his lap, easing her knee to the side, spreading her legs. His body grew still. His hand hesitated in midair. All she could hear was his ragged breaths.

Then he gave a harsh groan as he leaned back to see between her legs. 'Touch you ...'

She nodded. At the first contact, she cried out, then moaned when he delved one of his big fingers inside her. Had he just freed his shaft? She could feel that he'd begun stroking himself beneath her.

In and out went that seeking finger. 'Getting so wet' he rasped. 'Sorceress, you drive me . . . mad. ...'

23

 Rydstrom was deep in that twilight between reason and instinct, where nothing made sense. He was losing control with her and couldn't savor it more.

He'd escaped with her. At last. Just thinking of her as his prisoner-his possession-made him want to bellow with triumph.

With her wild plaits flowing down her back and the metal adorning her body, she looked as wicked as she acted, taking the slaps-and raising her ass for more. And now she needed to come, badly. Her fires were already burning.

This is ecstasy.

He worked a second finger inside her hungry sheath. 'So tight. Hot.' Her flesh glistened, gripping his fingers. 'And virgin no more.'

With his other hand, he worked his fist up and down his shaft, until it throbbed to release its seed. He let his fingers slide out of her only long enough to turn her over so he could see her face.

There was no shame and no fear. With her eyes half-lidded, she lay across his lap, tilting her hips up, wan­ tonly using his fingers. So beautiful. . . so fierce. Mine.

That still-unfamiliar pressure within his shaft mounted, the sensitive crown rubbing against her ass. Pleasure so extreme it's pain.

His muscles tensed, his body readying to come. He roared to the sky, beginning to ejaculate against her ass. On and on it continued while he yelled, pumping hard jets, his hips jerking uncontrollably beneath her.

She gasped, then moaned low. The sound of that drew forth from him a last explosion that landed between her spread legs. Even marked like this, she was writhing, moaning, about to come . ..

But he removed his hand to refasten his pants, then set her on her feet.

As she blinked up at him in bewilderment, he ripped the bottom of his tunic to wipe his seed from her.

'What are you doing?'

'I'm finished.' Don't push me . . . don't enrage me, 'You've three nights you owe me. Three nights where you'll know what I went through. Then we'll have par­ity between us.'

When he swiped her skin, she bucked against him. 'I'll kill you for this!'

In the moonlight, he could see her ass was bright red. How hard did I slap her?

'Very hard, you oaf!' she answered.

''Stay out of my goddamned head, Sabine!' He tossed the cloth away, then yanked up her scrap of underwear with so much force she rocked up on her toes.

'Or what? You'll spank me? Do you often strike women?'

'Never.' Not once in fifteen centuries.

'Ah, that's right, you're King Rydstrom the Good. You don't seem so good now.'

'You wouldn't recognize a good thing if it was spank­ing your ass.' He wrenched down her skirt so hard, the material ripped.

'Am I turning you bad, demon? Shattering that upstanding facade?'

'That could've been much worse.' He took her arm, propelling her forward as they journeyed on. 'It didn't have to be like this. You started us on this path. Do you remember the time I asked you to release me? Do you recall my pain as I lay in that fucking bed, with my chest ripped open wide and my spine severed? Day after day, I was trapped in that goddamned dungeon-because of you!'

As if she'd heard none of that, she squinted up at his horns. 'Hey, are you going to be like this for long?'

He released her, confounded by this female. Gods, she's got me twisted inside. He resumed walking, not turn­ing back as he spoke into the night, 'You'll follow me now. If you don't, you'll be eaten alive out here.'

'Where are you taking me?' she asked, trailing after him. 'What are you going to do to me? Besides taking out your fetish on me?'

He stopped and rounded on her, making her crane her head up at him. 'Woman, why would you possibly push me?' His eyes narrowed. 'You're taunting me because you like it when I lose control.'

She gazed away for a split second, then said, 'Not likely. How else should I act with someone who's taken me prisoner? Pleasant?'

'If you had any sense, you'd avoid provoking me.' Done with this exchange, he turned to resume their trek. The harsh sun would soon be rising, and the ter­rain was only going to become more grueling....

With each mile, she badgered him about where they were going and how long they'd be gone.

She'd complained about the heat of the sun, the furious pace, and his rationing of their dwindling water

supply.

Other than to feed her sips from the canteen, Ryd-strom ignored her, his thoughts in turmoil. Part of him felt triumphant. He was free, and had Sabine as his captive. He'd already begun his revenge and had been greatly rewarded, coming so hard his legs had been weak afterward.

Another part of him felt guilt for his treatment of her. Anytime that guilt arose, he would remind himself of all she'd done to him. The humiliation of those men bathing him... . The memory of that alone had him turning to her with his lips drawn back from his fangs.

Because of her behavior, he would feel free to do with her whatever he wanted.