expecting me to follow in his wake—like the good pet I was.
Gritting my teeth, I did exactly that. A deal was a deal.
The bass beat of drums reverberated in my bones as I stepped inside the room, and a primal, seductive melody wrapped around me, pulled me in. Music? What kind of business meeting was this?
Large enough to rival a small dancing hall, the room held an assortment of seating areas, with settees, chaise lounges, floor pillows, comfy-looking armchairs strewn around the space. In the middle of the room, scantily clad dancers moved sinuously, sensually to the rhythm of the music, played live by a group of demons in one corner, on instruments I didn’t recognize.
The low lights glowed warmly on the dancers’ skin, played over fabric and metal and jewels adorning the demons present as well as the sumptuous furnishings. My gaze caught on a demon couple in the corner to my left, and I almost missed a step at their state of undress and obvious make-out session.
When you said business meeting, I pushed along the mental line to Azazel, I kind of figured a conference room, or maybe a business casual lounge, or some kind of dinner.
Is this too much for your prudish human sensibilities? His voice held a softly mocking edge.
If I had a knife, that spot right there between his shoulder blades would make for a perfect place to stick it. A warning would have been nice. Something along the lines of, Hey, by the way, there’ll be an orgy, just FYI.
He threw a glance at me over his shoulder, one corner of his mouth tilted up. Oh, love. You think this is an orgy?
I calmed myself by contemplating the many ways I could fillet him.
Stopping in front of a settee, Azazel bowed slightly. “Lord Zaquiel. Thank you for your patience.”
He stepped aside and settled on a chaise lounge opposite Zaquiel’s seat. Not missing a beat, I took a deep bow toward the Fallen lazily sprawled on the settee’s cushion, mindful to keep my gaze down.
“Lovely,” the demon murmured. “Her assets really shine when she’s free of inferni splatter. I can see why you agreed to keep her.”
Take a seat, Azazel said in my mind, subtly pointing to a cushion that had just appeared on the floor at his feet.
“She is proving to be an amusing diversion,” he said out loud to Zaquiel.
Determined not to show even an ounce of my irritation, lest he could use it to complain I hadn’t held up my end of the bargain, I smiled coyly and slid into a seated position on the cushion, facing Zaquiel’s settee. Azazel’s legs were on either side of me, effectively caging me in—and making it clear to whom I belonged. It should have rankled and raised my hackles to be so ostentatiously labeled as his...instead it gave me a weird sense of security.
“I trust you’ve been well taken care of while you were waiting,” Azazel said, his hand coming to rest on my head.
Zaquiel raised his glass and nodded at a male demon who passed our seating area. The other male winked, his smile languid and teasing.
“As always,” Zaquiel said, “the hospitality of your halls is beyond reproach.”
Did you order your people to have sex with your guest? I mentally whispered to Azazel.
A sharp tug on my hair. Do not insult me. His energy darkened, pinched my senses. If the demons in my employ choose to engage with Zaquiel, they do so of their own free will. Look at him.
I did, struck anew by his unearthly beauty, the impact of his ancient power.
There are many demons who would beg to gain his favor. Any time he visits, several of mine line up to spend time with him.
All right, fine. I relaxed a little. He’s a demon snack, got it.
More like a delicacy, but you get the point.
He began stroking my hair in the same languorous rhythm as the music, doubling the effect on my body. Had I held my spine rigid before, I now found myself leaning into his leg...into his touch. His fingers on my scalp drew small circles, and I felt those moves much, much lower, as if he’d established a direct connection between the top of my head and the sensitive spot between my thighs.
A spot currently uncovered by panties, a first for me. I’d never gone commando before, and the feeling was unsettling, in more ways than one. Instead of having at least a flimsy piece of fabric as the