CHAPTER TWO: UNWELCOME
MARIE
It was impossible to ignore the way the Demon's cock pressed against my thigh, hard and long, as if sex and survival were one and the same to the creature that lay himself on top of me.
To the human eye, the Demon would have simply appeared as a man - a good-looking man, but a man nonetheless. But appearances weren't where the danger lay, it lay in the way his very energy seemed to pulse against mine, filling me with a heated desire that had me parting my thighs beneath him, allowing him to rest in the valley that I had unintentionally created.
I glared at him, hoping that my gaze conveyed exactly how furious I was. Still, my breathing was rapid, and I knew he could tell how affected I was.
“Get off me.” I ground the words out, desperately craving distance. His fingers dug into my wrist, holding the knife away from him, and his touch was a brand, igniting a girlish desire I was certain I had lost the ability to feel.
“You still going to try and kill me?” He brought his lips towards my neck, his breath fanning against the sensitive skin there, and I suppressed a moan even as I angled my neck in a way that gave him more access.
I hated my reaction to him - hated that my body was betraying me, making me want things from the Demon that I had no business wanting from him.
“Get off me.” This time I pressed my free palm against his chest and pushed, once more fighting the urge to curl my fingers into his shirt and pull him closer. Merde, this lust Demon seemed to exude power, and I briefly noted that he must have been pretty high up in the Demon food chain.
“As you wish.” Even as I felt him pull away, I arched up into his words, and suddenly I was free, his dizzying proximity releasing me from the lust-induced haze I had found myself in.
“Did you just Princess Bride me?”
Long ago, during one of my stints at Summer Camp, Brenna had taken on the task of ‘educating’ me about American girl culture and all the movies and shows that entailed. She took her role seriously - too seriously, forcing me to watch one romantic comedy after the other, until they seemed to bleed into one another, the American stereotype of romance firmly set into my soul. But The Princess Bride was one of the few films that had stuck out - perhaps because of the unlikely and humorous situations throughout the film, or perhaps because it wasn’t a squeaky clean Hollywood blockbuster - either way, the movie remained firmly embedded in my memory.
The demon smirked down at me. “You’ll find that Demons are quite adaptable, scouring the earth for all sorts of information that may allow us to camouflage ourselves.”
I pushed myself up, stiffening my spine until I stood tall before him, and still the Demon towered over me.
Merde. He knew Charl. Corinne had mentioned that Charl had been dabbling with Demons, and I wasn’t sure why I hadn't connected those proverbial dots, because the Demon who stood before me was clearly linked to Charlain - clearly linked to our Club.
Did that make me safe? Untouchable?
My disappointment tasted like acid at the back of my throat, or perhaps that was simply the river water I had almost choked on, but I would not allow myself to feel disappointment at the fact that the Demon had finally given me space.
The town bell rang out, its echo reaching even the outcasts that stood in the wooded area of the forest. I fought the urge to shut my eyes - fought the urge to sag, showing any sort of vulnerability in front of the creature that stood before me. He was of a high rank - exactly how high, I couldn't tell, but even with a foot’s worth of distance firmly between us, I felt his energy - his power - pulse against my flesh, calling to my own Magick, bidding it to come out and play.
I shook my arms out, a physical attempt to shove his Magick - his energy - his very essence away from me.
Once more he smirked, his emerald green eyes flashing in feral delight as he trailed his gaze over my white, nearly translucent blouse, halting on the peaks of my cleavage. My blouse gaped open, but I didn’t shy away from the Demon’s stare. How many summers had I frolicked naked on this very riverbank? How many nights had I slept beneath these stars?
I would not shy away from his appreciation for my body, not when he was on my turf - and especially not after he had effectively bound me to this goddamn land. Briefly, I wondered what my own reading would look like, if death was imminent - if everything that I had been trying to avoid was fated, making all my attempts utterly redundant.
“See something you like, Demon?”
I must have had a death wish, because there I stood, challenging a lust Demon in his own goddamn game.
His gaze darkened with desire, and I watched, mesmerized by the sweep of his tongue against his plump lips. Men shouldn’t be so pretty - shouldn’t look so defined, but then he wasn’t a man. He was a lust Demon, presenting a package of dark hair that seemed to curl in at the nape of his neck, emerald eyes that drew you in, and a jawline sharp enough to remind you that he was all male. His own black shirt clung to the planes of his chest, highlighting exactly how defined the Demon was, his clothing wet from where I pressed against him in our tussle.
He held my gaze for a heartbeat before allowing a knowing smirk to spread across his face, and there I stood, Marie des Montagnes, fighting the urge to blush beneath his gaze.
When was the last time I blushed for a man? Felt butterflies for a man? Craved to get on my knees for a man?
When I was sixteen, and the gods of old knew exactly how that had turned out. Now, I did those things for myself, not for a man. And yet, the Demon seemed to evoke all those irrational urges I had long ago suppressed.
“Those pants would look far better if you pressed your knees into these muddy banks and thanked me instead.”
Irrationally, I glanced down at my outfit, aware that I looked a mess after almost drowning. My jeans were wet and torn, my white blouse draped open, and while I cataloged everything wrong with my outfit, his words registered a second too late, and I was unable to contain my gasp of outrage.
Did he honestly think I would blow him in the forest?