The Demon Lord (A Demon Outlaws Novella) (Entangled Edge) (2 page)

Common sense warned him of danger. His other, more primal senses bade him ignore it. “I come here for privacy as well.”

“And I’ve ruined that for you.” She shifted so that her masses of hair swirled around her shoulders, spinning and gleaming in the water. One round, golden breast broke the rippling surface as she tilted her head to the side. “Now what do we do?”

He gave a soft laugh. “You could come from the water.”

Her lips lifted in an equal amusement. “I think that would be unwise of me.”

He found he did not want her to be afraid of him, although they both knew she should be. This was his territory. Here, he was at his most powerful.

She was prey.

“Why? Do you think I would harm you?” he asked.

“Would you?” she asked in return.

He took a few steps closer to the edge of the water, careful not to come in contact with it. “There’s only one way for you to find out.”

She hesitated. He could see her indecision as she considered his challenge. Then she surged from the water so that her upper body became exposed, fair hair streaming around her to partially cover the swell of her breasts. Pink tips peeked through the tresses with each movement she made. She waded toward him, stopping a few feet from the pool’s edge.

A mortal woman could never compare to one such as this. If he wanted, he could reach down and pull her to him, although to do so would risk injury. Goddess rain burned demon flesh like acid. He contemplated whether it might be worth it to touch all that smooth, golden, gleaming skin. To join with it. To surge within it.

“If you wish me to come closer,” she said, “you must make me a promise.”

Her boldness amused him. “The promise is…?”

“That you will not harm me.”

The Demon Lord’s mind was already made up in that regard. He had no intention of harming her. He had other, more pleasurable, activities in mind.

He intended to claim her.

He crossed his arms over his chest so that his hands rested on his shoulders, and bowed his head in a symbolic gesture of submission. “I promise no harm will come to you. Not through me, nor any of my demons.”

His answer seemed to satisfy her. Wearing nothing but a colorful stone amulet on a chain around her slender neck, she waded from the water with long, graceful steps. Droplets blazed like fiery stars against her golden skin. With careful gentleness, he reached out a hand to touch the tips of his fingers to one of her arms.

The water dampening her flesh seared his. He drew back his hand on a harsh, muttered curse.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I never intended for that to happen.” Concern spilled from her eyes.

“It’s nothing.”

It wasn’t. He should have known better than to touch her, but was unable to resist the temptation. The scorching of his fingertips was far from the worst pain he had ever experienced.

What shocked him was the discovery that she could resist him. He couldn’t compel her the way he did mortal women. He couldn’t claim her. The tenderness in her eyes seared his heart.

With a single touch and a glance, she had claimed him instead.

Chapter Two

He said it was nothing. To him, perhaps not.

To her, the instant he touched her, it was as if the moon and stars collided with the earth to explode into sparkling showers of shimmering light. She lived an endless existence, but until now, this very second, she’d never known what it meant to be truly alive.

The full brunt of the mortal emotions she and her sisters had longed to experience crashed through her. She hadn’t anticipated this overwhelming attraction to a demon. She had not expected the devastating magnificence of him as he stood naked before her, bathed in moonlight. Black hair brushed his broad shoulders. Confidence curled the corners of his sensual lips into an indolent smile of anticipation.

His beauty transcended anything a mere man could ever hope to possess.

He was perfect.

And with that one simple touch, she belonged to a demon.

A
demon
.

Dread unfolded inside her. She could not do what her sisters expected of her. She could not seduce him and remain unaffected. She couldn’t enslave him. Not even for the mortals she loved.

She reached for her robe, caught on the jutting corner of a rock where she had dropped it, although modesty was not her motivation. Her physical form meant little to her other than as a shell that contained who she was, a necessity for existence here on this world. She wanted to towel off her skin so that no more goddess rain could come in contact with him.

“Leave it,” he commanded.

She paused with her hand outstretched, the robe untouched as she turned her face to him. “I thought to protect you.”

“I need no protection.”

He sounded so amused by the possibility that she might somehow be capable of harming him. Perhaps he was right.

She straightened, allowing the robe to remain where it was. The desert air would dry her almost as fast as the fabric. Nevertheless, she bundled her hair in both hands and allowed it to fall down her back. The damp tendrils swept against the swell of her bottom like the cool tip of a lover’s tongue.

“You seem very certain of that,” she said.

He took two steps toward her. She backed away, placing her at the edge of the water, where the fallen rain lapped at her heels.

A soft laugh rolled from his chest at her cautious retreat. “I’ve heard the tales of the things goddesses do with mortal men.”

“And I’ve seen the results of what demons do with mortal women.”

It was a reckless response for her to make. Demon offspring were monsters who clawed their way from the womb and tore their mortal mothers apart, feeding on their flesh. She held her breath as the night shifted around them. Shadows danced to the music of a wind that rustled dry, tumbled brush and tall, brittle grass.

His gaze blackened. “You’re as immortal as I am. You have no more love for spawn than we do. Can you tell me the spawn goddesses create with mortals are any different from ours?”

“There are no such offspring,” she said. “Goddesses are barren.”

“It’s far more likely that mortal males could never plant their seed in an immortal womb.” He stepped closer. In order to evade him, she would have to reenter the pool, but this time, Allia refused to give ground. He again reached out to touch her, to trace a light finger down her cheek and along the side of her neck, to tease the length of her collarbone to the base of her throat. “Many magnificent things might result if a goddess and demon were to mate.”

She had to smile at his arrogance.

“We have no need for such magnificence,” she said. “Goddesses bring life to the world. Its people are our children. Our strength.”

The light finger at her throat trailed lower to circle the tip of one breast. “Your children are your weakness.”

Her thoughts scattered. Allia lifted her chin even as her body swayed toward him. With a start of awareness, at the last second she spun away before he could fully claim her lips with his. Water swirled around her ankles. As droplets of goddess rain sprayed into the air, she called it to her so that none would fall and burn him.

He seemed unbothered by either her retreat or the scattered drops. Indeed, it was as if he enjoyed the pursuit. He came so close to the ripples tickling the water’s edge that she could not stifle a cry of alarm for his safety.

He stopped. An eyebrow lifted. “I promised no harm would come to you,” he reminded her. “I won’t go back on my word.”

It was not her life she feared for, or his word that made her afraid.

Allia bit her lip. She was as eager for pleasure as he seemed to be—to give in to the desire she felt for him. The physical attraction was too much for her to resist. It slid over her bare flesh like a breath of cool air. It taunted her with the promise of pleasures beyond any she’d ever known, leaving her dizzy, and very conflicted.

She wanted to touch him. To taste him. She wanted to feel him inside her.

She wanted
him
.

“I should never have come here,” she said. “I won’t come again.”

Heat shimmered in his gaze as it dropped to her mouth. “If you don’t, then I’m the one who will be sorry.”

Not if he knew the truth of why she was here. And yet she could hardly explain matters to him. Neither could she complete the task as it had been set for her.

She could not enslave someone who had already enslaved her.

The closeness of the night—the intimacy it created—grew suffocating. She could not possibly win in this situation.

…

He could not allow her to leave.

Not until he discovered some way to break this connection between them. It was not at all what he had believed it would be, and he disliked that it gave her this baffling power over him.

All he could think of was her, and how much he desired her. While he should not have made that promise, it no longer mattered. Even without it, he could not have harmed her.

If he took her, perhaps this need for her would be satisfied and he would again be in control. He would own her.

No one owned him.

He contemplated entering the water to reach her. He cared little for any damage it might cause him. He was the Demon Lord. He didn’t fear goddess rain.

He read the indecision on her face. The longing. Elation filled him. She did not wish to depart.

He extended a hand to her. “Come. Sit with me.”

At first she didn’t move, but remained as still as the night. And then, with slow steps, she reached to take his hand in hers and allowed him to draw her from the pool.

He did not plan to rush her. He did not wish for her to vanish, as she would at the slightest hint of danger. He had traveled too far, and lost too many of his own kind in order to find her, to allow this moment with her to be wasted.

Without releasing her fingers he drew her alongside him to sit on a rock at the edge of the pool. Its black surface sparkled with stars, spreading the night sky at their feet as well as above and around them.

Golden-skinned and fair-haired, she was extraordinarily lovely, and unlike any mortal woman he had ever known. Sensuality glowed from inside her, as well as a desire equal to his.

He was at a loss as to how to proceed.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said.

He loved the soft lilt of her voice. “No? What did you expect?” Her cheeks flushed in the starlight, and seeing that she did not want to answer him, he could not resist teasing her. Demons wore two different forms. One they used to hunt men. The other, women. “A monster, perhaps?”

The flush deepened. Her gaze dropped from his. “I didn’t expect gentleness from you.”

Her response took him aback. It was not something he’d ever heard used to describe him before. “You think me gentle?”

“No,” she said. Her slender fingers curled around one of his in a gesture of trust. “But you’re being gentle with me.”

Perhaps he was, although it was not premeditated or unnatural. She brought it out in him. He wondered if she understood that he would not be so gentle with anyone else.

And if she, too, felt this same unsettling connection.

He raised their linked hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. Her breath caught on an inhale as she met his eyes. The taste of her—and the delicate, feminine scent—left him reeling.

“It would be impossible for me to be otherwise with you,” he said.

She leaned close. The tip of her breast brushed against his bare arm, and instantly, he hardened with craving for her. She pressed a light, explorative kiss to his shoulder. “Mortals aren’t the goddesses’ weakness,” she said. “But I believe you might be mine.”

He had to smile at that. “Do we have flattery out of the way now?”

She smiled at him in return. It flooded her face and illuminated eyes so dark and a startling blue, they were almost midnight in color. It grew painful for him not to touch her. He slid a hand into her damp hair, cupping the back of her head, and ignored the burning of his skin as he watched those beautiful eyes glitter with desire.

For him.

He lowered his head so that his mouth hovered above hers. “Well?”

“The flirting, at least,” she replied.

He had not intended for this first kiss to be more than a tease, and a show of his dominance. He had not counted on the fire that rose in him, or that she would respond to it so readily.

Then again, he should have known. Seeking pleasure was as much in her nature as his.

The touch of her tongue welcoming his drove him wild with the urge to lower her to the sand and take her at once, but he held himself back, curious as to how far she was willing to take this on her own initiative. He’d never permitted a woman to have control over lovemaking before.

She was not in a hurry.

She knelt beside him, her hands on his thighs, the length of him stroking the soft underside of her wrist as she leaned against him and deepened the kiss. He ached with need for her now, and when he ran his palm over the smooth swell of her hip, she moaned against his lips. Her splayed fingers inched up his thighs until her thumbs delicately caressed the base of him. His hips jerked upward.

“Patience,” she whispered. She curled the fingers of one fine-boned hand around him. A thumb settled on his tip, flicking lightly across it with the same strokes as her tongue against his.

He was unused to being on the receiving end of such seduction. It felt odd, as if she held a power over him that he had not known existed, but he discovered that this was not a power he minded her having.

She could not, however, have it all.

He took her breasts in his hands, then his mouth, groaning with delight at the way each peak stiffened beneath his tongue. Anticipation tore through him.

He wanted her closer.

She weighed next to nothing. He lifted her easily so that she straddled him, her knees on either side of his hips, the crease of her folds enveloping the tip of his rigid length. He eased a hand between their bodies to rub it against her damp heat. She dropped her head to his shoulder, her breath coming in warm pants against his throat. Her mouth touched the lobe of his ear, sending shivers racing down his spine to string already tense muscles even tighter. She arched against him, her breasts to his chest.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered.

“Who needs patience now?” he asked, but he did not deny her. He had waited an eternity for her. He would not wait any longer.

She pressed against him, more demanding, and cried out with a sharp sigh of pleasure as he entered her. Pleasure roared through him as well. He clenched his teeth, savoring her warmth as he set a slow, torturous rhythm despite the soft sounds of her pleading.

Then, when he knew he could hold back no longer, with deep, deliberate, increasingly urgent thrusts, he felt her tighten in his arms. She threw back her head so that the long curls of her hair swept across his bent knees. She cried out again, her muscles clenching around him, forcing his own cries from his throat to mingle with hers. They came together.

The stars spun in the sky, dancing crazily across the reflective surface of the water, leaving him dizzy and disoriented, but more satisfied than he had ever been with any other woman.

Afterward, with her cradled against him, her cheek to his chest and his chin on her hair, he thought about the connection he now had with her.

And he decided it would not be so terrible to belong to her after all.