Demon Slave (27 page)

She poked her head out the door while
holding the dress up at her breasts.

Marik sat on the edge of the bed, already
dressed in his new outfit. They’d guessed his size well. The dark
top hung like a robe and flared at his midsection. Defining his
waist was a strip of fabric that split in the front and was
decorated by a pair of silver clasps. His dirty boots should have
made the pristine black trousers look out of place, but on him it
looked...sexy.

Damn it.

When he spotted her, he tried to hide his
smile but it showed in his eyes.

She narrowed her gaze at him. “I need you to
tie the back of this.”

Instead of making a snarky comment as she
expected, he rose from the bed and made his way toward her as if
trying not to seem too eager.

Nadua gave him her back. A soft rumbling
sound escaped him, followed by his finger running down her spine.
She clenched her teeth to keep a shiver in check.

“
Just tie, no
touching.”

The gods knew what happened last time he
touched her. And this time her body sprang to life at that tiny
hint of contact, making her remember in perfect detail how his body
slipped easily into hers, his hands running over her heated skin.
She mentally shook herself.

At the base of her back, he started pulling
the strings taught, slowly moving his way up. Every now and again a
finger would graze her flesh. She suspected on purpose, but it
affected her nonetheless. When it happened again, just below her
shoulder blades, she couldn’t prevent a small shudder of pleasure.
He briefly paused, then continued.

When he neared the top, Nadua lifted her
hair out of the way. She felt a current of air brush her neck, as
though his lips were close. She looked back and he gave her an
innocent expression that screamed guilt. He was enjoying this way
too much, and it was like sensual torture for her. And it wasn’t
over.

With the strings tight, he now had to do a
second pass, and secure it with a knot at the bottom. Grinding her
teeth, she remained still as he went even slower this time, having
to slip his fingers under each crossing strand against her
skin.

Nadua gripped the fabric of the dress,
convincing herself that she was doing a wonderful job of steadying
her breath.

Finally, the knot was tied. She turned and
caught his eyes, glowing with barely contained passion. She gulped
because she liked it. And so did her body. Way too much.

“
Thanks,” she choked out,
and rushed back into the safety of the bathing room.

* * *

Marik shifted in his pants. Such a normal
act had turned into something so damn erotic he couldn’t think
straight. Each stolen touch had his shaft lengthening, growing hard
as steel. He had hardly kept himself from pulling her to the bed,
lifting her skirts, and working himself inside her.

By her responses, he was sure she had felt
it too. The scent of her arousal still mingled in the air. Just
before she scurried away, her eyes had been heavy with lust and
glossed with a sheen of iridescent sapphire.

She still wants
me
.

But she had practically dove to get away
from him. It was going to take a long time for him to make things
right between them, but he was up for the task. Time, he had.
Patience, he could fake. Yet, becoming the man she deserved? To be
worthy of her? He wondered if it were even possible.

His thoughts turned dark as old memories
assailed him. His sister, Misha. How she had begged him to save
her. Shadowed glimpses of the arena, and the screams that still
echoed in his mind. Losing himself to the pain of his later
tortures, and selfishly enjoying the mindlessness it eventually
brought. There wasn’t a moment in his life where he had proven his
worth.

But he was stronger now. Trained. Hardened.
No longer the helpless young boy. For Nadua, he would prove
himself. Every day if he had to.

One thing was certain: she could never know
of his past.

Eventually, Nadua calmed enough to re-enter
the room. Almost immediately, another knock at the door saved her
from having to finish the conversation she’d started with
Marik.

A different woman stood on the other side,
holding a small box. She was much older and tougher looking. Collet
must have refused to return.

Without invitation, the woman barged into
the room, eying Marik as though she would put up a hell of a fight
if he tried anything.

Holding out the small box, she said, “Cyrus
offers a gift to the lady.”

Inside, a gorgeous necklace sparkled at her.
Twisted silver vines wrapped around golden flowers, each with a
different colored jewel at its center.

Long ago, Nadua would describe the plants of
her home to Cyrus and he would paint wonderful images based on her
words. This looked straight out of one of his paintings.

“
Beautiful.” Her voice was
breathless.

The woman continued. “Cyrus requests that
you wear this at the evening’s meal.”

“
When might that
be?”

“
Soon. I will return for
you when it is time.” Curling her lip, the woman added, “He says
the demons are welcome as well.”

Without taking her eyes from the gift, Nadua
replied, “Thank you.” But the woman had gone. Throat tight, Nadua
ran her fingers over the smooth metal.

In a strange tone, Marik observed, “This
makes you sad. Would you like me to destroy it?”

She clutched it to her chest. “No! Why would
I want that?”

His only response was an irritated
shrug.

Was this jealousy? Marik saw her as
belonging to him, which probably meant he didn’t like that another
male had given her something so beautiful. Good thing he didn’t
know how instantly dear it was to her. She slipped it on. The cool
metal slowly warmed against her skin.

Telling a demon to check his attitude was
probably like telling a rock to speak up. Still, she asked, “Is
this how you plan on acting from now on?”

“
Do you plan on wearing
that from now on?”

She raised her chin. “Look, we’re going to
find a way out of this eventually. Until then, why don’t we just go
back to the way we were before...the incident.”

“
You mean when I made you
come with a stroke of my tongue?”

Warmth flooded her cheeks, then between her
legs. “I mean before that.”

“
When you were frightened
and running from me?”

Is that what she was doing now? Running from
him again? No. What he did was a betrayal. A dark part of her mind
wondered if they could still enjoy each other now and end it
later.

Mimicking her thoughts, Marik edged, “Since
we know we will be parting ways, why not just use each other for
pleasure? As a mated male, I crave it like you wouldn’t believe.
And I can tell you’re in need.”

Her jaw dropped. A nervous laugh bubbled up.
“What? I am not.”

With a knowing curve to his lips, he
continued. “Plus, I could use your help.”

Nadua raised a suspicious bow.

“
As you’re aware, I sort of
have a problem with...blacking out during sex.”

“
Quite aware.”

“
Well, once we break the
mate bond, I’ll be able to slake myself on other women again.” He
paused, watching her.

Waving him on, Nadua decided not to analyze
why the thought of him with another woman pained her.

“
And I don’t want to make
the same mistake I made with you. You could help me. Like sexual
training.”

Another woman writhing in ecstasy with his
fangs in her flesh?

“
How could I possibly
help?”

“
With you, I felt I could
have stayed myself, if...” He trailed off.

“
If what?”

He looked like he was about to say
something, then changed his mind. “I think, if I had another
shot—”

“
Another shot? Like I’m
some kind of game?”

“
No.”

“
You’re just trying to
trick me into sleeping with you again.”

“
Why would I need to trick
you? You’re dying to sleep with me again.”

“
Is that so?”

“
Yeah, I can smell it on
you.”

“
You crude...I can’t
believe you!”

“
Believe it, luv. You can
deny me, but you can’t lie to yourself.”

He was right, and it pissed her off. But she
couldn’t stop from contemplating all the “training” they could get
in, until what he called the “mate bond” was broken.

* * *

She’s actually considering
this
.

Marik hadn’t meant to be so abrasive at the
end and was afraid he’d just ruined his chances. He held his breath
as he waited for her next response. She fiddled with a lock of her
hair. Their eyes met.

He wanted to throttle the person when, once
again, there was a knock on the damn door.

That old snooty wench, who had looked at him
like he was worth less than dirt, greeted Nadua. “Cyrus would like
you to join him for drinks before your meal is ready.”

“
That would be
lovely.”

“
Yes, lovely.” Marik
sneered.

They both slanted their heads at him.

Nadua must have registered the determined
look on his face because she reluctantly said, “Of course, Marik
will be accompanying me.” Then she shot him a look that said he’d
better behave.

As the old woman led the way, he followed
behind Nadua, eyes riveted to her smooth open back, the slim arch
of her neck, the soft sway of her hips. He needed to get it
together, before he forced her back into the room and threw her on
top of that convenient bed.

It became apparent to him that she didn’t
understand the power of her easy sensuality, or she wouldn’t be
moving her hips in such an enticing way.

Marik peered over the edge of the balcony
and spotted Cyrus, already seated at the large table. He looked
regal in his stance. His straight white hair was pulled back from
his pale face. He was thin, like most of his kind, yet his arms
were defined, peeking out from his tunic.

Marik smirked at the memory of Nadua
slapping the man, as well as the light red mark that still lingered
on his face. Did she burn herself as well?

Concern spiked. He should have asked her
before. “Let me see your hand,” he whispered.

“
No.”

He gripped her wrist and saw her palm was
red before she snatched it away. “You’re hurt.”

“
It’s nothing. And it was
worth it.”

Good.

Cyrus stood at their approach, looking far
too happy to see Nadua again. His gaze dipped to her neckline. “It
looks beautiful on you.”

“
Thanks,” she replied. And
damn it, she blushed.

He spared Marik a glance and nodded
respectfully. A round of drinks were already in place. Three, as
though Cyrus had known Marik would be here.

“
Does this have alcohol in
it?” Nadua asked.

Cyrus nodded.

Nadua claimed her seat and before Marik
could stop her, had already taken a generous gulp of her drink.

Cyrus noted the outraged look on his
face.

Poisons could be easily slipped into drinks.
In demon culture, alcohol was imbibed as a ritual when done in the
company of strangers. It was considered a sign of trust to take the
first sip as a group.

He didn’t trust these people.

Still standing, Cyrus lifted his drink, not
taking his eyes from Marik. Quirking a brow, Marik did the same.
Then they both drank.

Interesting. Cyrus knew something of his
culture.

Nadua shifted her eyes between them but
didn’t mention what she must have thought was a strange exchange
between them. Instead, she took another large gulp.

Marik frowned and sat in the place to her
left. Cyrus claimed the spot across from her.

* * *

The sweet liquid warmed her belly. Cyrus had
remembered her favorite drink, though it was a little light on the
alcohol. Right now she could use a good stiff drink.

Finishing the glass, she wiggled it in the
air. “Can I get another, a little stronger?”

Of course, Marik had something to say. “I
don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She pierced him with an annoyed glare. “You
want to know what I think isn’t a good idea?”

“
I can imagine.”

A moment later, a servant brought her
another drink and she put it to her lips. Perfect.