Wicked Abyss (Immortals After Dark #17) - Kresley Cole Page 0,65
guess I should expect commands since you pretty much bought me. But I want you to know that if the stakes weren’t so high, if you and your alliance of monsters weren’t about to murder my kind, I would never screw you, not in a million years.”
He ground his teeth. Maybe he didn’t want her to tell him her thoughts.
Like the concubines, Calliope would lie with him only out of duty. “Just for that, I vow I won’t fuck you until you ask me to.”
Instead of snapping a reply, she tilted her head. “So I’ll have some control over the first time I have sex?”
He exhaled. “You call me a monster, but at least in that, you won’t find me so.”
She held her dress against her chest, hesitating to bare her breasts. He doubted the virgin had been naked with a fey male before, much less a demon enemy. She would need encouragement. He could give a little to get. “Delight me, Lila. Show me your stunning body.”
Chin raised, she let the material fall to her waist.
He hissed in a breath. Her flawless breasts were upthrusting and pale, with rose-pink nipples and raised areolas. They swelled right before his rapt gaze, beckoning his mouth.
In Demonish, he rasped, “Exquisite.” Less than an hour ago, he’d come harder than ever before, yet his cock grew painfully stiff.
Her breaths had shallowed, those breasts rising and falling.
The realities of his situation hit him. His mate was stripping for him. She was immortal. She would be his for all time. In a barely recognizable voice, he said, “You are so godsdamned lovely. I must see more.”
She let the dress drop the rest of the way to the floor.
The sight left him unsteady on his feet. He’d known her figure was willowy, with graceful curves—that tiny waist flaring to the softness of her hips. He’d known her legs were shapely. He’d briefly seen the sandy-brown curls on her mons.
But altogether, her naked body rendered him thunderstruck.
Abyssian Infernas had waited ten thousand two hundred and thirty-four years, three months, and seventeen days for his female to return to him.
He met her gaze. “You were worth the wait.”
THIRTY
The demon’s husky voice made Lila’s belly clench. His brows drew together, and his claws sank into his palms. His erection jutted like a steel rod in his pants.
But somehow she forced herself to stand bare before him. She’d expected him to leer at her or smirk.
Instead, he looked . . . awed. He’d sounded it too.
He made her feel beautiful—and powerful.
So he’d been right. There was power in desire. A small fey could affect one of the strongest beings in the Lore. She did have some sway over him, and it would only grow.
She found her shoulders rolling back.
When they met gazes, an understanding seemed to pass between them. She was reminded of the pomegranate. She’d given to him, and his expression told her he would reward her again and again and again.
He stood beside the tub, holding his hand out for her. Surprising herself, she took it and stepped into the deep water.
She caught his intoxicating scent, and her heart tripped.
Her first bath as an immortal felt heavenly—despite the fact that she’d have to share it.
He began to undress, so she looked away. She’d rather not see her future. . . .
Once he’d entered the water, she faced him. “What now?”
He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “I’ll start by washing you.” He sat on one of the tub’s benches and settled her sideways on his lap. She tensed when his hard dick pressed against her hip.
After selecting a bottle from the dais, he conjured a cloth, pouring oil on it. Lifting one of her arms, he drew the cloth from her wrist to her shoulder. His gaze roamed along with that cloth, rapt as he washed more of her body.
He discovered her ticklishness under her arms. He showed her the surprising sensitivity of her neck and collarbone.
With each moment, her resistance faded. She was growing more convinced that he would be gentle during sex, sparing her pain. But could it be . . . good?
What would an experienced demon king like sexually? As he began to massage one of her hands, she gazed at his chest. Those hypnotic glyphs moved across his flesh like the golden tips of flames.
She’d bet that raised skin was responsive. Would his heart pound if she flicked one with her tongue?
She recalled snippets she’d read on the walls in the tower.