Demon From The Dark Part 15

When she beckoned to him with a grin, he glanced over both shoulders. Then he hiked a thumb at himself with his cleft chin proudly raised.

And Carrow thought, I think I just fell into like with him. I think I just fell into like with him.

Chapter 16

Malkom was dazed at the sight of the pert, flawless backside she'd just casually revealed to him.

A reward for his patience? Earlier as she'd unplaited his hair, she'd been in high spirits about the prospect of shaving and shearing him. While he couldn't have been more ill at ease.

After all this time, having anyone anyone near him had been strange, much less this female who so effortlessly undermined his control, with her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swaying directly before his eyes. near him had been strange, much less this female who so effortlessly undermined his control, with her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swaying directly before his eyes.

Plus, the water had been mere inches from him.

Yet he'd battled for control of himself, because for some reason, her task had been important to her.

For his troubles, she'd gifted him with that view of her backside.

Now he yearned to touch those pale curves, but she'd removed herself into the water. There, she mimicked that she would wash him, too. He hadn't agreed to this for himself. Yet look how he'd been rewarded for his cooperation so far! With her removing clothing and offering to clean him.

Her hands on him. Water on him.

He would smell like the vampires he'd hated. But she shewould like him better. To be close to her, could he enter the pool that continued to deepen?

He'd have to undress. When he removed his cuffs, she would see the bite scars, possibly recognizing the marks of a blood slave. The idea filled him with embarra.s.sment.

Let alone stripping completely. 'Twas one thing for other males to see him naked. But a woman? He figured that in all his years a female or two must have-but he'd never known about it, and he surely hadn't volunteered any glimpses of his body.

This one seemed to like the look of his countenance, gazing at him with unhidden approval, which mystified him. Perhaps she could be attracted to his body.

Would she she undress completely? Show him those b.r.e.a.s.t.s he wanted to lick? Remove the silk triangle that covered her s.e.x? undress completely? Show him those b.r.e.a.s.t.s he wanted to lick? Remove the silk triangle that covered her s.e.x?

He pointed at her top, then made a couple of quick motions with his fingers.

With a breathless smile, she teased it up so slowly, displaying pink silk, wetted and clinging to her curves. The lace revealed more than it concealed.

His lips parted. The G.o.ds amused themselves with Malkom, giving him such a fine female.

Or could she be his justly earned reward ... ?

For an extraordinary, fleeting moment, he actually felt like the luckiest male alive.

When Carrow drew off her halter, the demon's gaze was searing on her, as palpable as a touch. Brows drawn as if in pain, he gave a low growl and absently palmed the rigid outline of his shaft.

Snagging the shampoo and soap, she beckoned him again with a curled forefinger. But he began pacing back and forth at the edge of the pool. She could see his expressions even more distinctly now, could see sweat beading his upper lip. Realization struck. He was afraid of getting in the water.

His phobia made sense. When would he ever have learned to swim or grow accustomed to large amounts of water?

"Okay, I guess I'll enjoy this all by myself." With just her undergarments on, she waded to the deeper center, dipping below the surface to soak herself completely. She made a big show of lathering her hair, giving a moan here and there as if her military generic shampoo were as o.r.g.a.s.mic as a bottle of Herbal Essences.

More prowling.

Once she'd gotten the tangles out of her own hair, she meandered over to one of the still trickling ceiling streams to rinse the shampoo away. When she raised her face to the water and ran her hands over her belly and thighs, she picked up a riot of different emotions from him. One of which was ... awe.

He gazed at her like he might have looked at his last sunrise.

At last, he trudged to the edge. She eagerly met him there, grasping one of his arms to draw free the laces on his leather cuffs. But that wary cast to his eyes returned. Again she thought, Thorn from a lion's paw. Thorn from a lion's paw. "Trust me, demon." "Trust me, demon."

But he couldn't trust her. Ultimately, she was going to betray him. Don't think about it, just enjoy this time. Don't think about it, just enjoy this time.

After removing the second cuff, she frowned. The skin on his wrists was marred with bite scars. Vampire bites.

For Loreans, scars only formed before immortality was reached in adulthood. And Carrow knew that sick Horde vampires enjoyed the blood of the young, thought it sweeter.

Had Slaine been a blood slave as a child?

She traced her forefinger over the marks. He wouldn't meet her eyes, and she knew. They'd kept him for blood at some time before he'd fully matured. No wonder he was violent.

Was that why he'd negotiated with her, when probably no other male in this entire realm would have? Because he'd known what it felt like to be powerless?

At that moment, she hated the faceless vampire, or vampires, who'd hurt him, and she felt sympathy for the boy he'd been.

He must have noticed the latter in her expression, because without a word, the proud demon turned to leave.

But she didn't want him to. "Malkom, come back. Please Please."

He slowed and finally turned. With that calculating look in his eyes, he motioned for her bra.

"You won't return until I take it off? Then I'll give you t.i.t for tat." She raised her brows at his pants.

He reached down to the leather ties hanging low on his waist. With a bob of his Adam's apple, he began unlacing them. Like he's nervous? Like he's nervous? The ruffian, wild-man demon was shy? Finished with the ties, he hesitated. The ruffian, wild-man demon was shy? Finished with the ties, he hesitated.

She recalled the way his hand had shaken as he'd reached for her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Maybe he hadn't been with a lot of women, or it'd been ages since he bedded one. Apparently females were nonexistent in these wastelands- The demon let his pants drop to the ground. The full length of his erection sprang free, and she gasped. Oh, my G.o.ds Oh, my G.o.ds.

Carrow felt the same way she had the first time she'd seen a p.e.n.i.s in the flesh. Giddy. And she knew she'd forever be comparing any others to this one.

Demon males were notoriously hung and customarily pierced down south, and this demon was no different. Aside from being almost uncomfortably large, he had four piercings-a s.e.xy foursome of barbells climbing up his thick shaft. The metal gleamed in the low light, making her want to sigh.

But his size size. Avoiding intercourse with him had been wise. "Am thinking your file is too big for my computer to access, big guy," she absently muttered.

That tattoo on his side snaked down his hip, all the way to his inner thigh, the design and placement intimate. Someone had lovingly lovingly inked him. inked him.

She felt an unexpected flare of jealousy for the women who'd seen his tattoo. Had they traced it with tremulous fingers?

Carrow wanted to follow it with her tongue.

This sinfully gorgeous body and face had been hidden from the world. Malkom Slaine might be a demon non grata, but he was also a diamond in the rough, one that she couldn't wait to feel in her hands. She grew covetous of him, as if she'd just gone speculating in this mine and had hit the mother lode.

When she could tear her gaze upward, she found his eyes were flickering over her face, observing her again, discerning her reaction. He was doing that "listening" thing, likely understanding her better than men who spoke her language.

Once more, he swallowed. How she perceived him was obviously important to Slaine. Was he uncomfortable with his nudity around her? Demon cultures could be such a mix, masters and slaves all driven by s.e.x, yet conservative with it. But she didn't want him uncomfortable.

She cast him an admiring look. "Malkom ... fortis, fortis," she said in a throaty voice. His erection pulsed, and the grim line of his lips eased somewhat.

She played a dangerous game. "No s.e.x?" He'd lose control when they had s.e.x-she knew it. Or rather, if if they had s.e.x. And the likelihood of him going demonic, vampiric crazy-while brandis.h.i.+ng the biggestD she'd ever seen-made her want to cross her legs tight. they had s.e.x. And the likelihood of him going demonic, vampiric crazy-while brandis.h.i.+ng the biggestD she'd ever seen-made her want to cross her legs tight.

He growled, but eventually he nodded.

Deciding to leave her thong on for any additional bargaining power she might need, she unclasped her bra and tossed it on the retaining wall. "Then come-"

He was already on his way.

Chapter 17

Do not look at the water; keep your eyes on her. Malkom gritted his teeth, refusing to think about the liquid wrapping around his legs, about how unnatural it felt. Malkom gritted his teeth, refusing to think about the liquid wrapping around his legs, about how unnatural it felt. No, just look at those beautiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s. No, just look at those beautiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

G.o.ds, they were so pale and full, tipped with dusky pink nipples that were stiffening right before his eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he thought about cupping those b.r.e.a.s.t.s, squeezing them....

His c.o.c.k bobbed painfully as he strode toward her. Once he stood before her, he dragged his gaze up to meet hers. Her sultry eyes were heavy-lidded, the irises like starbursts.

She was desirous. Which meant she would have expectations of him that he doubted he could fulfill.

Seduction. I do not know how to do this. I do not know how to do this. Would she want to be kissed? 'Twas taboo among the Trothan demons. Would she want to be kissed? 'Twas taboo among the Trothan demons.

She probably thought he'd been with hundreds of females, as most demons his age would have been. She likely believed he was skilled at drawing pleasure from females.

I have no skill and nearly as little knowledge about her body. Yet when a large drop of water coursed from her chest down one of her proud b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his apprehensions grew dim. Have to touch them Have to touch them...

But as he reached for her, she eased away, shaking her head. No, he wanted to touch- "Malkom, please."

He hesitated. She wanted something of him now. You have had your turn-now it is hers. You have had your turn-now it is hers. At length, he gave a nod, allowing her to lead him beside a fall of water. He even knelt when she did, though that put the water as high as his navel. At length, he gave a nod, allowing her to lead him beside a fall of water. He even knelt when she did, though that put the water as high as his navel.

He remained tense when she moved behind him, running the cloth over his back and neck with deliberate strokes. His arms were next as she worked all the way down to his fingers and claws.

When she grazed her fingertips over the scars on his wrists, he recalled her reaction as she'd stripped him of his cuffs. Oh, yes, she'd known what those scars meant. He'd seen the pity in her expressive eyes. Which had shamed him. And those scars marked the least least demeaning way he'd been used. demeaning way he'd been used.

How would she react to learning the rest?

As she ran that soapy cloth over any part of him that she could reach, he decided that this bath was markedly different from what he'd remembered. There was no pain or strangling panic. He was still on edge, but his mind was filled with thoughts of her, wondering where she would touch him next, in what way in what way she would touch him. she would touch him.

When she looped her arms around him to wash his chest, her bared b.r.e.a.s.t.s slipped across his back, rendering him dizzy with pleasure. The feel of those pink tips against him made his c.o.c.k throb so intensely, he was tempted to begin masturbating under the water to a.s.suage it-- The pad of her forefinger rubbed his pierced nipple. "Ah, Carrow ..." "Ah, Carrow ..." Just when he was about to s.n.a.t.c.h her into his arms, she stood and began was.h.i.+ng his hair, running her nails along his scalp. Just when he was about to s.n.a.t.c.h her into his arms, she stood and began was.h.i.+ng his hair, running her nails along his scalp.

For some reason this relaxed him, weakening him until he could barely keep his head lifted. Yet when she all but polished his horns, his shaft pulsed impossibly harder.

How much longer could he endure the building pressure? Had he not come earlier, there'd have been no withstanding this.

But if he touched her, he could hurt her, justifying her fears about his claiming. If he hurt her, then he'd never have this this again-attention, care, again-attention, care, interest interest.

He'd neverknow what thing she would do next.

With that in mind, he let her guide him to stand, cooperating when she coaxed him to lift his arms, palms against the rock face so water from above would run down over his head.

She knelt behind him, then took the cloth to his feet, working her way up his calves, her destination unmistakable. Would she touch his member? Run her hot, soapy hands over it? When her breast rubbed against his leg, his claws dug deep into the stone beside his head.

This position reminded him of being flogged-or worse. But the torture he'd known before merely had to be endured. Now he had to deny deny what he wanted more than anything he'd ever known. what he wanted more than anything he'd ever known.

Each of her touches made his c.o.c.k strain painfully, every graze as tormenting to him as the bite of a whip.

His seed was rising, feeling like it would erupt against his will. And with it, his demon instinct began burning inside him again. Thoughts of tossing her to the ground ran riot. Of pinning her arms over her head as he plunged his c.o.c.k betwixt her legs. He imagined tying her wrists behind her back, then laving her s.e.x like an animal at drink....

When her hands reached above his knees, he gnashed his teeth and rammed one of his horns against the rock. Pain tempered his pleasure, buying him precious seconds.

A week ago, if someone had told Carrow that she'd be wors.h.i.+pping a wild-man vemon's naked body, kneeling before it, she'd have laughed.

But wors.h.i.+pping was exactly what she was doing, entranced by every rigid inch of him.

At first, she'd been methodical. Yet then she'd slowed her movements, helpless not to appreciate the masculine perfection of his body-the hollows at the sides of his rock-hard a.s.s, the corded thigh muscles, the sharp rises and falls of his chiseled abs. Those pecs were made for a woman's nails to dig into.

His tan skin was dusted with golden-blond hair on his chest, arms, and legs. A trail of it descended from his navel to the slightly darker hair at his groin.

His shaft protruded from between his lean hips like a rod, his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es heavy and begging to be fondled.

Carrow couldn't remember ever being this aroused in her entire life. This demon was raw, uncivilized-and he was making her melt.

By the time she reached his upper thighs, his body was thrumming. She thought he was holding his breath. Instead of touching him higher, she stood and began soaping his lower back and a.s.s, his muscles tensing to her fingertips. He exhaled with disappointment.

Biting her lip, she reached around to work on his lower torso. His stomach dipped and flexed as she ran the cloth down that trail of golden hair. Again, just when she was about to reach his groin, she stopped.

Playing a dangerous game. His low groan grew nearly constant. He glanced over his shoulder down at her. His eyes had turned black once more, gleaming like onyx. His low groan grew nearly constant. He glanced over his shoulder down at her. His eyes had turned black once more, gleaming like onyx.