Page 47 of Fated to the Demon Lord

I laughed in disbelief. “So you decided stabbing me over and over with claws sharp enough to tear me apart was the better option?”

His hand settled on my shoulder. “I could squeeze your shoulder instead,” he offered. His nails pressed through my shirt, and heat scorched through me at his touch. I shook my head.

“I could tug your hair.” He gave a light pull for emphasis.

My pulse stumbled. Fuck, now he was definitely toying with me. I brushed his hand away. “Stop.”

He reached for me again, slower this time, fingertips grazing my cheek. “I could…” His claws traced the line of my jaw with agonizing care. Heat prickled beneath my skin, and I looked up, unable to stop myself.

His glowing eyes flared alive, and my breath caught hard in my throat. The weight of his stare sent a shiver through me—sharp, involuntary, dangerous.

I grabbed his hand and dragged it down to the table before my body betrayed me further. “Squeeze my hand when you’re ready,” I said, quieter now.

He blinked, looking almost surprised as his eyes dropped to where our hands touched, but he didn’t pull away. He only nodded.

We continued to read in silence—him giving my hand a gentle squeeze, telling me to turn the page. I stared at our entwined fingers, his gray-toned flesh against my pale skin—demon and human.

Last night, while dancing, I experienced something dark and seductive. I remembered his lips, inches from mine, and the fire roiling in my belly.

My thoughts turned to the pages I had seen in the hedge-witch book. Of the demon and human drawings—bodies twisted together in so many compromising positions. I’d had sex once, with a tavern boy, but it had been harsh and fast. Hardly enjoyable. I hadn’t sought out a repeat performance. That was three years ago now.

The figures in the image of the hedge witch book both seemed as if they were at the height of ecstasy. How might it feel to desire someone that intensely—to get lost in absolute pleasure?

I thought of the drawing that resembled Vaelor, and shut my eyes, picturing myself sitting on top of him, both of us completely bare. The bloodied symbols of the spell glistened on his muscular chest, mingled with his sweat—the want in his gaze all-consuming as I took him inside me and rocked on him, my head slowly tipping up to the sky.

“Do you get turned on by seeing someone stab another through the heart?” Vaelor asked in a low voice.

I jumped. His jaw clenched as he gave me a disapproving glare.

“I’m sorry?”

“The book.” He dipped his chin toward it.

I cast a quick look at the page we were supposed to be reading. An image depicted one demon thrusting his blade into another demon’s torso. Crimson blood spurted from the wound.

Shit. I’d been thinking about sex with Vaelor. Someone fuck me.

I gave him a wide-eyed stare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His eyes narrowed. “You smell… aroused.” His nostrils flared, and he glanced down between my legs before again meeting my gaze.

Demons had excellent senses of smell.

I pressed my thighs together. Gods, I could die now.

Vaelor watched me expectantly, waiting for me to answer.

“I wasn’t reading the book. I—my mind had wandered off. I was… thinking.” My cheeks were becoming warm at an alarming rate.

Vaelor’s head tilted. “Thinking?”

“Yes.”

“About…”

“Thinking about… thoughts.” My cheeks blazed.

He drew closer and slid his finger over the vulnerable skin of my throat. “Thoughts of anyone in particular?” he murmured.