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14
FAITH
Though I agreed to having my sub pleasure me, I still made sure to put some ground rules in place before beginning. For one thing, we must do this on a comfortable bed. There’s no way my ass was getting chapped sitting in that chair. It might have been part of his punishment, but it doesn’t have to be mine. I snap my fingers and watch his eyes bulge out of his head when an enormous, circular bed appears in the middle of the floor. The chair poofs out of existence.
The cashmere blankets and deep rose sheets practically beg me to sweep across them with my naked body, and I fully intend on doing so, but there’s still a little setup required. When I snap my fingers again, all the candies strewn across the floor are suddenly back inside their jars and on the shelves. It’s like they never fell in the first place.
“There. A little cleaner,” I say, brushing my hands together. “Hmm. What else?”
“Candles?” Byron suggests. “If… if you want them, that is.” He wisely averts his eyes down to the floor. “Sorry.”
“No, that’s a lovely idea,” I purr, and then snap my fingers to create dozens of tea lights all over the room. The soft amber glow refracts across a jar full of rock candy lollipops, makingthe crystalline sugar treats within glitter like diamonds. Pretty. “Enough, I suppose.”
Then I turn to Byron and grin as he stands before me, wearing not a stitch of clothing. Just how I like him. When I snap my fingers, his wrists are bound behind his back.
“Kneel at the base of the bed,” I command, and though he seems disappointed by the wrist bindings, he doesn’t say anything. Yet. Instead, he shuffles to the edge of the bed and slowly gets down on his knees and looks up at me, waiting. I climb onto the bed and position myself before him and spread my legs wide up towards my ears. “Now, you may begin.”
He clears his throat and lowers his mouth to my cunt, but doesn’t start licking like I expect him to. I raise an eyebrow and sit up when it becomes painfully obvious he’s not going to get on with it.
“What’s the matter?” I ask. “I said start.”
“I…” He looks from my sex back up to my face and winces. “This is so clinical, don’t you think?”
I blink. “I lit some damned candles for you. What more do you want?”
Byron shakes his head and chuckles, though it seems like it’s mostly to himself. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… connection. Faith, I need connection. Telling me to get down on my knees and service you without warming you up at all is… it’s strange. That’s all.”
Rolling my eyes, I get up from the bed and place my hands on his shoulders, then begin to knead them in a gentle massage. “What would help with that, then?” I ask.
He appears to chew the inside of his cheek before mumbling, “Kissing. I want to kiss you. On the bed. And I want to touch you with my hands.”
A sound gets stuck in my throat, and I stop kneading his shoulders to sit back on my knees.
“Then afterward, yes, you can cuff me, step on me, bring out the hot iron again, whatever. But I need this, Faith. Please.”
Absently, I run my claws through his hair and massage his scalp as I think back to all the other men I’ve tortured in the past. They were left writhing and screaming, of course, since they were marked for punishment and soul extraction. Never once in my miserably long life did I kiss those mortals. I never treated them well. Yet when Byron asks me so sweetly for mercy, to be cared for, I want to give it to him tenfold. There is nothing more I’d love than to walk hand in hand through a boring museum, if that’s what would make him happy.
I’m not built for this. I’m built to condemn and torment. I’m not built for love.Am I?
Yet… I remind myself that I’m probably going to the Pit tomorrow, so now isn’t the time to sweat the small stuff.
“Oh, fine. Just promise me you won’t get all weepy on me, though. I can’t stand tears unless it’s because I’m beating you,” I say.
Byron’s smile stretches across his face so hard I’m worried his muscles might pull. I snap my fingers, releasing him of his licorice bonds, and he jumps up onto the bed like a dog being invited by his master. All he needs is a tail to wag. He positions himself between my thighs and bows his head like a sinner in church, head lowered reverently, and then pulls my thighs apart with care. His eyes home in on the delicate piece of gold jewelry immediately.
“Is this what I think it is?” he rasps, then brushes his fingertip across the little diamond adorning my clit. “I expected you to have nipple piercings, but not this. Don’t know why I wouldn’t expect a clit piercing, though.”
I smirk. “I only have the one piercing. This clit has one, but not the other.”
His throat bobs as he meets my gaze, and his mouth falls open. “W-Wait, what? You have more than one clitoris?”
Nodding, I say, “Yes. All demon females have multiple clits, though they’re not always in the same place.”
“Where’s the other one, then? I don’t see it anywhere on your body,” he murmurs, then brushes his lips across my stomach gently, over and over again. My blood races in my veins, wanting him to devour me until I can’t breathe. My fingers trail over my breasts, and I stop to give them both a firm squeeze. Byron’s bottom lip trembles as he watches me pinch both of my hard nipples, giving him a show. Then I run my hands down, down past my breasts, past my navel, and between my slit.
“Deep in here,” I rasp. “Deep, deep in here.”
His brows lift again, and he peers down where my fingers are dancing, playing. He licks his lips and grins.
