Demon Marked

could go without tipping the table over, and he hung there, suspended for an endless moment—wondering if her weight wouldn’t be enough to bring him over anyway. Then her heels skidded. Her weight suddenly shifted, yanking him over. He twisted as he tipped, trying to avoid the wall, avoid smashing her. She gave a yelp of surprise as he crashed into the floor on his side.

Still holding on to her wrists.

“Dammit,” she spat. Her breath came in short bursts. Her fangs had appeared. “Why can’t you let go?”

A million reasons. “You want me to make it easy?”

Her anger was gone, that quickly. Frustration remained—not directed at him, but at the situation, he recognized. At the Rules keeping her there.

“No.” Her eyes closed briefly. When she opened them again, she was back to studying their hands. They both lay on their sides, facing each other, Nicholas’s fingers locked around her wrists. “All right. There’s nowhere left to fall. So there has to be something else to make you want to let go.”

“An exchange?” Nicholas suggested.

She considered that before shaking her head. “With someone else, maybe. If they’re greedy, I could offer money.”

“You could lie and offer anything,” he reminded her. “Say you’ll do something and don’t. Unless it’s a real bargain—a demon’s bargain—you can lie.”

“Trick them?”

“Yes. Maybe they’ll believe you.”

“And if it’s someone like you, who doesn’t trust demons? Who believes everything I say is a lie?”

That was a punch to the gut . . . but true. “You’d have to come up with something else.”

“Something that they fear. Something that makes them sick, makes them want to get away.” She looked at her arm. “I could start chewing on it. Blood all over. Ripping away the meat—Oh, God.”

He watched her gag, turning her face against the floor. If he let himself imagine it, Nicholas was sure he’d be losing his breakfast, too.

“I’d let go,” he said. “Because I couldn’t stand to see you do it.”

She nodded, her tattooed cheek scrubbing the floor. “But also because it’s me. If Madelyn did it, you’d be disgusted, I think. But you wouldn’t care if she hurt herself.”

That was true enough. “Yes,” he admitted.

“So if it was someone who hated me, who didn’t mind the blood, it wouldn’t work. But if it’s someone with any humanity, I can hurt myself. I can see how much they could stand before they have to let go.”

“Yes.”

“So it’s not about what I can do at all. It’s about what the human can stand to do. If they are willing to risk being hurt. If they’re willing to stomach a demon being hurt. Everything I did would really be about finding their limits.”

“And yours,” he pointed out. “You could stand knocking my head into a wall. But what if it meant throwing me in front of a bus? Into a fire?”

“No.” She smiled a little. “But I already know your limits.”

“The arm chewing? That’s a sure thing.”

“Not even that. Just, ‘Oh, let’s have sex.’ And off you go.”

God. God. Was it that easy for her? Teeth clenched, Nicholas reared up. Her eyes widened, but he still held her wrists. He shoved her back against the floor. He braced his knees alongside her thighs and pinned her wrists on either side of her head.

Looming over her, he ground out, “Try it now.”

Ash swallowed, hard. “I want to have sex.”

“But I’m not leaving.”

Her gaze darted to her arm.

Nicholas shook his head. “Can’t reach it with your teeth.”

Her eyes began to glow. “I’ll slam my head against the floor so hard that my brains will pop out.”

That would do it. Anything that meant hurting herself would. But he didn’t have to worry about that one.

“Go on, then.”

Her lips flattened, as if in determination. He felt her shake beneath him.

“You can’t,” he said. “There’s a limit for you, too. Maybe you can be pushed over it, but you haven’t been yet.”

“And you?” It came out as a hiss. “I’ll push you past yours, and you’ll let go.”

No. He’d already been pushed past them, and he was still holding on.

He dipped his mouth closer to hers. “Try.”

Trembling, she closed her eyes. “I want you to fuck me.”

If she really did, he might oblige her. “Is that the truth?”

Her eyes flew open, and he saw the sudden, stark terror in them. Fear that she’d broken her bargain. That in her attempt to get him off, she’d inadvertently lied.

Jesus. He hadn’t meant to do that. He’d rather release her from their bargain than ever see her in the frozen field. He’d rather give her permission to kill him than see her hunted down for breaking the Rules.

“No.” She relaxed beneath him, a soft sigh escaping her. “It’s not a lie. It wasn’t something that I meant at that moment, it was just something I said . . . but it’s not a lie.”

And he believed her. Maybe he was a fool for it, but God—he believed her.

Smiling, he pushed her wrists up and over her head, held them together in his left hand. Ash drew a sharp breath.

“What is this?”

“We’re going to see what my limit is. And yours.”

Her lips parted. As he bent to them, she whispered, “How?”

“We’ll see how long it takes before I have to let go. Before I have to touch you with both hands. Before I have to let you touch me.”

Her chest hitched with excitement. “Let me go now.”

“No, you’re still playing ‘get away without breaking the Rules.’ ”

“I’m not trying to get away.”

Playfully, he narrowed his eyes at her. “But how do I know it’s not a trick?”

She laughed. God, he loved when she did that. So soft and clear. Pure enjoyment.

“Can you vanish your jacket?”

Her breath stilled. Her brow furrowed, as if concentrating. Then, “No.”

With only one hand available to undress them both, that complicated things—but probably for the best. He should do better than fucking her on the floor next to a broken table, fully dressed except for what he’d been able to open one-handed.

So he’d just push to her limits, instead. How far he could take her. How fast. His hand slid down over leather, found the hem of her jacket, her hoodie, her T-shirt. So many layers, and he slipped beneath them all, found the hot, smooth skin at her waist.

“Your choice, Ash,” he said, and watched her eyes flare with crimson. “Up or down?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Down.”

“Impatient?” God, so was he. He couldn’t remember ever being this hard, and he’d barely touched her. And he wanted to touch all of her, but he wanted to please her more. He held her hands; he could at least give her control over his.

“Yes.” She laughed again, as if delighted by that. “So impatient.”

Watching her face, he unsnapped her jeans. He’d take her mouth in a moment, but right now he wanted to see her eyes as he slipped his hand beneath the denim. Her lids half-closed in anticipation, her lips parted, her breath coming in pants, she was beautiful. So incredibly beautiful.

And wet.

His fingers slid over slick, burning flesh. Nicholas groaned, already imagining his tongue delving through that