Page 93 of Fated to the Demon Lord

I stepped out of the circle to stand next to him. “We must take off our clothes,” I said.

A small grin came to his lips that made my heart skip a beat. “This is starting out well.”

“It will get better,” I promised.

“Let me assist you.” He took hold of my shoulders and turned me so he could undo the laces on the back of my dress.

He kissed the back of my neck as he worked, causing goosebumps to flow over my skin at his touch even while an undeniable heat gathered low in my stomach.

“Gods, your scent when you are aroused,” he murmured, low and sensuous in my ear.

His voice only increased my need. When he finished, his hands brushed over the fabric covering me, and it fell to the earth.

I turned toward him, and his gaze traveled down my body, hungry and wanting. He reached out to touch me, but I caught his hand, looking up into his face. “My turn.”

I ran my hands up to his shoulders under the fabric before pulling off his uniformed jacket. Then I unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. For a moment I stared at his pale, gray-toned skin. I ran a finger along the black lines, my heart aching for everything he went through. For me.

He took my fingers and brought them to his lips. “Move along, human,” he rumbled.

I nodded and reached for his trousers, undoing them and pulling them down, sinking to my knees. I looked up at him, at the hunger in his gaze while his cock lingered inches from my face, large and straining.

I rose, cleared my dry throat, and motioned toward the circle. “We enter.”

He stepped into the ring, and I followed. I picked up the small bowl of soot I’d gathered from the fire and reached up and painted a symbol on his forehead.

“Now you do the same for me,” I said.

He reached into the bowl and drew the mark on my forehead.

“You must bite me here,” I pressed his hand to my chest. “Where my heart is and draw my blood.”

His brow furrowed. His nails skimmed my skin, the gentle heat causing me to tremble. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“You must. It is part of the ceremony. I can take it.”

He hesitated a moment longer before lowering his head to my chest. He brushed his mouth over my heart, grazing my left breast, and a shiver of anticipation rolled through me.

When his teeth sank into my chest, it was sharp and fast. A quick prick of pain that eased off.

I breathed in. “Drink it.”

He paused, looking up at me, my crimson glistening on his lips from the light of the fire, a bit of surprise in them. “Your blood?”

“Yes.”

His head buried in my chest as his mouth locked around my wound and sucked. Pain sparked, but I curled my fingers into his hair and shut my eyes. I would bleed for this demon. I would endure any discomfort for him.

“The taste of your blood, human,” he murmured with pleasure. “So sweet and soft…like roses.”

His hands held my bare skin close, his claws grazing my vulnerable flesh. The ache in my breast lessened and gods…the pull of his lips, the caress of his palms. I tipped my head letting every sensation roll through me as the power of the night heightened my senses.

“Vaelor,” I finally said. “Vaelor, it is my turn.”

He straightened, the blood still on his lips. He lifted an eyebrow as if amused I was going to bite him. “Time to pull out those razor teeth.”

I laid a hand on his torso and rose onto my toes. His skin was warm. Gods, his chest was so toned. I found his heartbeat and leaned forward. The scent of him washed over me—like rain and sky. A mixture of Vaelor and his brother.

When my teeth bit into his flesh, I was much too gentle.