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But as I curled onto my side, the thick cotton of the sheets sliding along my cheeks, I felt a tingle of doubt at the back of my mind.
Was that really why I was doing this? Because I needed to show the peasants what’s what?
An unexpected jolt rang through me, and it electrocuted me enough to sit me upright. Flushing at the sensation, I stuffed it down again, willing the unpleasantness away.
It had been a long, long time since I’d known that feeling.
Affection.
It’s not affection,I growled to myself, turning over again as I tried to get comfortable, but shaking off the creeping response was proving harder than killing that worthless guard.
And I knew why, much as I didn’t want to admit it.
Briar reminded me of someone I’d known long ago. Someone I’d taken great pains to live without.
“Briar is not Mathilda,” I said aloud, bolting upright to stare directly into the live fire. “She is not Mathilda.”
It was disturbing that I was even comparing them in any way for a myriad of reasons, beyond the obvious ones. Mathilda had been a human, weak and in dire need of my help.
Briar was her father’s problem. A spoiled, sheltered rabbit shifter who didn’t understand the evils of the world when they were living under her roof.
But why did she have to be so damn alluring? I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She had that way of looking at me—those come-fuck-me-eyes had the power to turn me into putty in her hands. I wanted to touch her, to feel her body up against mine.
Transfixed by the flames of the fire now, I sank back into the softness of the expensive sheets and allowed myself to find her features in the licks and cracks of the logs. Tendrils of smoke laced outward to imitate her curls, loosely falling from that messy bun atop her head.
How long is her hair if she lets it down? Will it touch the curve of those luscious breasts?
Instantly, my cock grew hard at the thought, and I sighed, a hand sliding toward the front of my pants to free my massive erection from the constraints of my clothing.
It had been too hectic of a day, too rife with stress, and not enough downtime. This was what I needed, to release my negative energy and wake up refreshed tomorrow with a clear head.
The fire giggled, Briar’s shape doubling over in her fit of laughter, the sound only enhancing my almost painful erection.
Fingers closing around my shaft, I stroked myself, thinking of the curve of her lips against that very spot, the wetness of her tongue lapping softly against me as she explored every inch of my huge cock that I would eventually drive into her.
I groaned softly, eyes closing as I conjured the velvet heat of her center against me, tightening to lower until she rose and fell on me like an equestrian.
She would taste like honey, the same way she smelled, that hint of lavender laced in the depth of her shampoo, teasing and gone before I could capture it.
My moans were louder now, breath quickening as my climax built steadily inside me.
I would have made it if not for the phone ringing two inches from my racing hand, just at the brink.
“Fuck me,” I growled, whipping my hand away to snatch up the device. “What?!”
“Uh, Ash, sir…” Draven said. “The matter is done. He’s hanging outside of the prison building, where he will be seen by everyone who enters and departs. Do you need anything else, sir?”
My hard-on died as the words hit my ears, and I sat silently for a long moment. On the other end of the phone, Draven cleared his throat gently, but didn’t speak as he waited for his orders.
“No,” I finally intoned. “Anything I need can wait until morning. Good night.”
I hung up, this time turning off the phone for good. Folding my hands over my chest, I stared up at the textured circles in the ceiling blankly.
Why did I feel like I might have overreacted slightly?
I flipped onto my side and closed my eyes. I was Ash Corpus, a two-thousand-year-old Original demon. I didn’t overreact. Lochlin had just screwed with the wrong guy.
Chapter7
