Demon Spelled (10 page)

“If I had control of my body, it’d say an entirely different thing.”

Troz adored the fire in her eyes. She might fear them, but when pushed, she instinctively fought back. “It comes down to choices, Sanja.”

She met his gaze with defiance shining from her green eyes.

“The clothes are willingly removed or one of us will discipline you
and still
remove your clothing.”

Her bottom lip trembled.

“Cry and I
will
redden your ass either way.” Lyx’s fingers pinched around the locks of hair he grasped.

“My mother used to tell me that, you arrogant bastard!”

“That put the fire back in your eyes.” A devilish grin hit his husband’s lips. “You’ll like my spankings much better. I’ll make sure you’re wet by the end of it and ripe for a fucking.” At Lyx’s promise, her eyes dilated, but Troz couldn’t decide if it was in anger or eagerness. “I should demonstrate just for the name-calling.”

“So you don’t have to read my thoughts, I hate you, Lyx.”

Troz knew that vow to be untrue, but he didn’t call her out on her lie.

“Hate everything you two are forcing on me.”

“Such a pretty, little liar.” Lyx tugged on her hair. “Don’t lie to me again.”

“I can’t lie to you, remember? It was forbidden by my obnoxious masters.”

Troz couldn’t understand how her defiance came across as sexy when normally it’d irritate the fuck out of him.

“Careful, sex-pet, tread carefully.” At Lyx’s caveat, she notched her chin at a mutinous angle, and narrowed her eyes to mere slits. She glowered at him as Lyx went on. “There’s a fine line between lie and truth with
that
particular charge of yours. You’ve used your entire allotment of liberties today. First with Tiara, the bastard insult, and now the mistruths, don’t push me further.”

She turned away from the unspoken promise in his eyes.

“What’s your choice, Sanja?” Troz hoped by giving her consequences it would ease her into her new lifestyle, but he couldn’t decide if they aided or harmed that outcome. Either way she must submit to them and fast because their elevated position couldn’t allow disobedience in a public setting without a very public punishment. That type of chastisement would require a harsher setdown than they would give her in private. Troz thought he knew her well enough that a communal reprimand wouldn’t go over well at all.

She bit her bottom lip as she pondered his question. “What’s your punishment?”

“To be revealed when need be.” Because he held no disillusions he’d eventually have to discipline her. She was too obstinate for any other conclusion.

“I s-suppose the”—she cleared her throat—“cl-clothes.”

“Lift your arms.” She complied with his instruction. He hooked his fingers beneath the fabric just below her breasts and jerked it upward and off. After tossing the garment aside, he stepped back, motioning for her to depart the table.

A tear spilled over and glided down her cheek as she pushed off. Before she could remove the teardrop with a swipe of her fingertips, Lyx caught her hand and licked the salty wetness away.

“Blood and tears, we should do this again. Soon.” Lyx kissed Sanja.

Her jaw remained locked, but with his hands on her hips he could feel her tremble beneath his palms. Lyx’s lashes flicked upward, and anger blazed from his gaze. Denying him entrance into her mouth was a wrong move.

Discipline wouldn’t be good the second day into their relationship, so Troz demanded, “Open to him, Sanja. That’s an order.”

Her fingers curled into her palms, and her knuckles whitened, but her jaw relaxed and Lyx tightened his grip on her as he claimed her mouth. “Don’t deny”—another wet kiss—“me entrance”—one more—“again.”

Troz jerked the yellow pantaloons down her body. The pungent scent of her arousal was strong and as desperate as he was to bury his face between her thighs, he defied the temptation. Waiting would heighten his arousal. “You may sit whenever Lyx is finished.” If he kissed her, he
would
end up fucking her in front of Cook.

ERICA’S INSIDES QUIVERED
, and she ached between her legs. Lyx’s kisses coupled with Troz’s errant touches as he removed her clothing did a number on her body. Finally the demon released her mouth and assisted her into her seat. A moment later the cook offered a distraction by placing food-laden dishware on the table. Only the grits were identifiable. Troz mounded a plate with fare and sat the cookware in front of her.

She couldn’t eat that much of anything, and unable to identify most of it, she couldn’t decide which one to taste-test first.

“What is this?” She flicked the tines of her fork through the crumbles that could’ve passed for scrambled eggs if not for their color.

“Bacon, eggs and grits.” Troz made his own plate.

“I recognize the grits, but red eggs and white bacon?”

“They taste like your version.” As he watched her, Lyx dove into his chow.

“I think I’ll just stick with the grits.”

“Sanja, you are wearing on my patience. Try the goddamn food.”

Her gaze whiplashed to Troz’s. Mutiny flashed through her brain. She’d never been good at taking orders, not even from her mother.

Disregarding her rebellious body language, Troz went on. “You cannot be this bullheaded. I vow I’ll try to fuck it out of you after the meal.”

Not what I need. I have so gotta find a way out of here before they tear down all my resistance.
Because the idea of either of them inside her made her pussy throb with eager anticipation. She didn’t want that. Couldn’t have that.

She forked red eggs into her mouth and sent him a
happy now
glare.

Okay, Lyx is right, they do taste just like earthly eggs.

“I’m still fucking you. It’s your choice if it’s your ass, cunt, or mouth. Think on that while you dine. I’ll expect to hear your decision afterward.”

Erica gaped at Troz.
Gawd
! The crassness of his words…but why’d the declaration make her wet?

She wanted no part of him inside her, and even as she thought that, she knew it was technically untrue. The more they took her, the less likelihood she’d be able to return home. And her mother would come. Of that she was certain. Mostly certain anyway. The average human might not be able to exit Baal without suffering death, but Sybil would find a way to free them. She was that damn powerful.

“Not that strong, Sanja.”

She shot Lyx a lethal glare. That he could steal her thoughts irritated her. “I was free yesterday. You cannot expect me to transition into your world overnight. I’d ask for a little bit of patience from both of you.”

“We’ll try.” Troz chucked her a sardonic smile. “We’re not known for our patience.”

“Neither are we accustomed to having our demands contradicted.” Lyx offered her an apologetic wink.

Maybe now was a good time to remind them of the thirteen information she’d asked about. “Back to that thirteen stuff?”

Troz sent the other demon a startled glance.

So, he didn’t know she’d been given that info. Interesting.

Lyx shrugged at Troz’s questioning look.

“What exactly does thirteen imply?”

“
The Thirteen
,” Lyx corrected like the verbiage meant a difference to her. It obviously did to them.

“Later.” Troz’s voice was clipped indicating there’d be no getting around his tone. “I’d rather know about you.”

“Me?” That question surprised her. “As of yesterday, I started over as a sex slave to two overbearing goons who think they’re some sort of god in this universe. They took my virginity every way imaginable without asking if it was okay. Defined as rape where I come from.”

“Don’t get cheeky, my sex-pet.” Lyx sounded amused, but she couldn’t tell from his blank expression if he were or not.

Pushed to her limits of being threatened, even subtly, she rashly said, “You know what, Lyx, let’s just get this over with. How would you prefer I present my ass to you?”

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Don’t tempt me.”

She glared at him, daring him to lay his palm to her backside.

“Would you cry for me?”

“Most likely, yes.”

Lyx pushed his plate aside. “Beg and scream for me to stop?”

How hard did he plan on hitting her? “Probably. I didn’t lie when I said I tolerate pain poorly. Sybil called me a drama queen.”

“Hmm….”

What did that mean? By his expression, she couldn’t glean even a cursory insinuation.

Nervous over Lyx’s silence and stare, she slid a glance at Troz to gauge his mood. He watched her just as closely as Lyx. She focused on her breakfast. Hunger forgotten, she mixed the eggs with the grits.

“Tell us about your life before us,” Troz’s tone was mild, as if she hadn’t just blown up at them. “Eat while we converse.”

She mixed the scrambled eggs with the grits. Feeling robotic, she picked up the bacon and chewed, but tasted nothing. On the tip of her tongue was to remind him they wanted her to forget her former life. Hence the name change. Not brave enough to defy them again—she suspected she was at the edge of their limited patience—she asked, “What do you wish to know?”

“I want to know about these men that ridiculed you and made bets about your virginity.” Lyx stood, and refilled her coffee mug.

She couldn’t help it, but hard as she tried to resist, his thoughtfulness tweaked her heart.

“Why wasn’t I told of this?” Troz set his fork on his plate and glared at Lyx.

“It’s nothing.” At their silence, she sent them both a cautious peek. “Really. I lived in a small town. People thought my mom was crazy.” She was over-the-top eccentric, but her accuracy with witchcraft frightened people. That made her and Sybil a target of derision. Her mother never understood the ramifications of her actions, but then she’d never been on the receiving end of the emotion. Folks were too afraid of Sybil, so they’d focused their ridicule on Erica instead.

“Explain.” Lyx placed her cup on the table in front of her, the brew mixed just the way she liked it.

“In high school the football team made bets on who would have sex with me first.” She’d almost given up her virginity to one of the receivers on the team until she’d overheard him bragging with his buddies how he planned to ‘pop her cherry’ that weekend. They’d even made plans to videotape the incident and post it on
ViewTube
. Erica shrugged as if it hadn’t devastated her teenage psyche and gone a long way in tearing down her fragile self-esteem. “Obviously they all lost the bet.” She munched on the bacon that tasted just like earthly bacon, even if it was funny looking.

“Give me names, and I’ll see that they’re punished.”

Her attention whiplashed to Troz. “Jesus Christ, no.”

“Those boys need to be taught a lesson.” Over the rim of his mug, he held her stare. “You will give me names.”

The gleam in his eyes said he’d enjoy doling out retribution. She couldn’t be party to that. “Beat me, whip me, do whatever the fuck you’re going to do, but I will not give you names of innocent men.”

“They’re not innocent.”

“No.” She set her jaw and returned his stare.

Holding her glower, his fingertips whitened on the mug. “I could command you to obey me.”

“You could.” She hoped he didn’t.

After a long moment, Troz settled his coffee cup on the table. “Very well, we’ll revisit this conversation later.”

She shivered over what that meant, but held her tongue.

“How long have you and Tiara been friends?”

“Since eighth grade, so since we were twelve. I don’t know why she stuck around. She was teased about our friendship, but she always defended me to her disadvantage.”

“That elevates her in my regard. Are you finished eating?” Lyx nodded to her plate where she continued to mix the food.

“Yes.”

He removed the dish, and she thought it odd that he cleaned when he had servants to do the menial tasks. Maybe he needed to keep busy.

“I assume you were employed like most humans?” At her nod, Troz went on. “What was your occupation?”

“I taught art to middle school kids.”

Troz’s dark eyebrows rose. But it was Lyx who spoke next. “Were you good at drawing?”

“I was fair.”

Her new human-like owner volleyed several questions at her after that. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Want a boyfriend?”

“Not in that hick town.”

“Have a pet?”

“A dog.”

“What hobbies did you participate in?”

“I like to read books, draw, and spend time with Tar—Tiara.”

“What type of books?” Lyx threw that question in.

“Romances.”

Troz grinned as if that told him more about her than anything else had.

Lyx chuckled.

Erica could feel the burn hit her breasts and flush all the way up to her cheeks.

“We have us a romantic,” her purple enslaver said, fingering her hair.

“You going to tell me about
The Thirteen
?” Maybe if she said their title right, they’d enlighten her.

“No.” Troz put his fingers through his hair.

“That’s not fair. You just twenty questioned me.”

“Is anything fair about your situation?” Lyx didn’t have to rub it in.

If she utilized her tongue to answer that question, she’d probably hurl a few curse words at him. She settled on shaking her head instead.

Lyx leaned near. “Were you an obedient daughter, Sanja?”

“No. I regret the shit I caused my mom.”
The freaking truth
! “I took her for granted, thought I’d have tomorrow to say the things….”
Hold it together! I will not cry, I will not cry, I will
not
cry.
She cleared her throat and studied her fingers. “I should’ve told her I love her, but now I’ll never get the chance.”

Awkward silence descended. It was as if the men suddenly didn’t know what to say or ask.

Finally Troz broke the quiet. “Melancholy is counterproductive.”

She met his penetrating gaze. “You have no regrets, Troz?”

“None.”

“I envy you.” Erica pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have too many to count.”

“And now you are envied.” Lyx winked at her. Pinkie had said something very similar.

Troz pulled her hand away from her face and laced his fingers with hers. She peered at their joined hands, the intimacy of the simple action alarming. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles. Their eyes met. “And I want to make love to you until other demons can scent me on you. I want to parade you around and be envied by other demons because they don’t have you.”

A silent gasp parted her lips. That confession sounded like a commitment, and her mind reeled with confusing emotions. She very much liked the idea of belonging to someone. Forcing the feelings to the back of her mind, she cleared her throat and addressed Lyx. She wouldn’t touch Troz’s comment, and the devilish, lopsided grin suggested he knew it. “Envied because I’m the concubine of you two, Lyx?”

He nodded. “We’re particular about our lovers, but we’ve never had a woman or man that was
ours
exclusively.”

“You’re our first,” Troz added. “The morning news was abuzz with speculations about our concubine.”

“Will you continue to take lovers even though you have a concubine?” Why’d she ask that question?

Lyx grinned and flashed Troz a glance, his red eyebrows curling upward. When his focus returned to her, he asked, “Would it bother you if we did?”

Very much
.
They are mine
! She looked away fast, hoping he didn’t catch her thoughts. Troz ran his thumb in circles on the palm of her hand, escalating her libido into overdrive. Why did that remind her of the way he circled her clit?