Bat Out of Hell (Promised to the Demons #2) - Lidiya Foxglove Page 0,5
about that."
"I'll check in frequently," Lord Cyrus said. "Ring the bell if you need me."
He left me all alone with Jenny. I kept holding her hand. The quiet of the room quickly started to feel oppressive. I was left with nothing to think about except her. I didn't think I would have much trouble keeping my hands off of her, because I was really quite controlled with my libido. Over the centuries I had realized how unfulfilling my sexual encounters ended up being, and was less and less inclined to fall into them. The females of Sinistral never offered what I really wanted.
As the clock slowly moved around the hours, my eyes roamed Jenny's body until I knew every detail of her, and with every hour, I began to feel an increasing yearning for her. It was not just her luscious breasts, although they were an enticing feature, and certainly it was not her unruly hair or the plumpness of her arms and legs. She could have been a particularly attractive gnome maiden. She had never possessed the good looks of a demoness, and I could have easily married an enticing woman with legs for days and breasts every bit as full.
Gods...it's her. It's her I miss. Not her body. Not even her face. Her…
I missed the brightness of her eyes, the hop in her step, the humble kindness that she showed to every person, no matter how despicable or stupid.
I cannot be kind, I thought. But to have such a kind woman...it would bring me great comfort.
I will never be anything but what I am, a creature of sharp words and sharp edges. She is so very soft...
The feelings I had for her felt lofty one on hand, like I was worshipping an angelic being. But I couldn't resist peeling down the blanket enough to give me a small peek at her body, and I was given more than I expected when she was wearing a thin linen nightgown, the darker color of her nipples showing clearly through it. With every strained breath, her breasts rose and fell slightly. My cock began to harden.
That isn't good... Lord Cyrus would return at some point. I forced myself to look away from her and focus on anything else. Dust motes. The distant sound of harp music. The thought of Jameson pleasuring a lonely orcwife. Oh, yes, that does collapse a man’s tower quite quickly…
As soon as I turned back to her, I was struck anew by how much of a treasure she was, how soft and lovely. It took my breath from me. I wondered if my father hd ever felt this way about my mother. I could imagine it, but I also thought that if Jenny were to love me and then I lost her, as my father lost my mother, I would be a different man. But my father didn’t seem to change at all.
You never loved Mother as she deserved, did you? I thought to my father, betraying his memory. After eight hundred some years, maybe I deserved a little honesty.
“I am sorry, little toad,” I said. “I was wrong about you. You are precious as a pearl, in fact—as they also come from the humblest of origins.”
"Bevan?" she murmured, her voice hardly more than a ragged whisper. Her eyes remained closed. The fever still had a grip on her.
“Jenny…I believe I have made a terrible mistake and you will not have me as your husband now.” I said the words to her delirium that I would never say to her if she was looking right at me with her eyes bright and aware. “In fact, I was trying to push you away because I didn’t think you would make a suitable wife. I am not a suitable husband. I don’t understand my fate. Most of all, I don’t understand how it is that I feel…as I feel about you. My body desires you, but I think my heart desires you more.”
Her eyes opened very slowly. “Variel…I think I’m dreaming. Are you saying that you…”
“I love you,” I whispered.
Her face was a sickening pale color, even her lips drained of pink, while she was covered in sweat. Her eyes were so glazed. But she smiled, and her smile was so beautiful.
“I’m scared. I don’t want to die,” she said, her eyes searching.
I wondered if my mother looked like this on her deathbed, drenched in sweat from giving birth to me.