Kiss of a Demon King (Immortals After Dark 7)

"How about we go watch some of your DVDs?"

Lanthe had quite the collection of films. Every month, she opened a portal from her room directly to a Best Buy, and then they ordered their Inferi to make like an ant line to the movie section. "We'll watch a horror movie and drink wine every time a blonde trips on her own feet."

"Sounds good," she said without enthusiasm.

"It'll he great. We'll get merry and raise hell."

Suddenly Sabine felt the tiny hairs on her nape rise. Great, Lanthe had gotten her spooked. She glanced up, but found no Vrekener.

Instead, she spied Lothaire atop the rampart, his trench blowing in the sea breeze, his thick white-blond hair stirring. The general of the Fallen Vampires within the Pravus army was watching them.

Lothaire was one of the most complicated males Sabine had ever encountered. His eyes were pink-not clear of blood, but not red with it either. He was consid­ered fallen, and yet he prevented himself from making those last few kills that would send him over the brink.

Whenever Sabine made herself invisible and moved about the castle, she would catch Lothaire spying on others, an analytical, cunning look on his face.

His interest in her and Lanthe boded ill.

Without breaking his watchful gaze, Lothaire disap-peared.

Thoughts growing darker. . . .

Rydstrom twisted in the chains, chafing against the heavy metal collar around his neck. Darker with each hour.

At the end of this night, he'd still resisted the sorcer­ess, even with his fantasies projected in a vision. But the pain was becoming too much to withstand. His c**k throbbed to be inside her, aching so much that Rydstrom was unable to reason. Unable to just think clearly.

He had to escape. Play along. Let her think she's seduced you to do what she wants. A dangerous ploy, because he feared she could. He was greedy for her, would give almost anything to have her.

But he wouldn't give up his kingdom.

Before, he'd burned to get free so that he could bring Cadeon in line and trade the Vessel to claim Groot's sword. Now he burned to get revenge against Sabine.

He imagined all the ways he'd make her pay once he was free. He'd make her beg for him between her thighs. He'd make her plead as she writhed in the chains he bound her with.

The visions she'd shown him tonight had shocked him in more ways than one. Until Rydstrom had seen them, plain and hare, he never would have admitted that was exactly what he would like sexually.

Knowing that was true meant recognizing that he had spent his entire existence since his thirteenth birthday, merely attempting. He'd been careful choosing each woman he'd been with. Every sexual encounter had been an investigation to find his mate-or rather, to rule out that the demoness of that encounter was not his mate.

Again and again, he'd experienced meaningless, noncommittal nights, where he expected disappoint­ment and was glad to be done with it.

With Sabine-he wanted to keep her beneath him for days.

Deny it all I want. He'd never hungered for another female a fraction as much as he did her. Though these encounters with her ran contrary to his desires-she

should be chained in his bed-they were still hotter than any reality he'd ever experienced.

And soon she would be in his power. She'd given her vow that he was to be left free the next time she came to him. Now that he was more familiar with her ability, he could predict it, could withstand it, and capture her.

Once free of the castle, he could take Sabine into the forests surrounding Tornin and remain hidden there for some time. But to get back to his brother, Rydstrom would have to escape this plane.

The fact that Omort monitored all teleportation off Rothkalina was well known. Yet so long as beings didn't enter the plane, Omort hadn't cared overly much about them leaving.

Rydstrom had long heard rumors of secret smuggling portals in Grave Realm, the most perilous area in the entire kingdom. If they reached a portal, they could escape completely. Omort was rumored to be weak away from the well, and he wouldn't likely give chase him­self. Rydstrom could easily handle anyone else he sent after them.

But whenever Rydstrom planned how the night of his escape would unfold, he feared his own will, was disturbed by his fantasies. Because he didn't see himself capturing her and escaping.

He saw himself throwing her to the bed and covering her, f**king her with all the strength in his body.

13

"My demon is cross with me," Sabine told him the next night. "I figured you would be fuming when I didn't keep my promise to free you." Instead, she'd ordered him chained to the bed again with his wrists above his head.

She could tell he was already on the razor's edge toward rage-his eyes were no longer green, just con­stantly black-but that hadn't stopped him from grow­ing erect beneath the sheet.

He should be hard for her, since merely descending the steps up to his cell had made her primed for him, her body tingling in anticipation.

As he lay bare-chested, straining against the mana­cles, her appreciative gaze flickered over his brawny arms and broad shoulders. Her eyes followed each rigid sinew of muscle along his torso and across his stomach. She forgot to breath as she stared at the dusky trail of hair descending from his navel to the edge of the sheet-the sheet that continued to rise and pulse from his shaft.

The demon king truly was magnificent.

"You made a vow to me, sorceress."

She gave herself an inward shake. "Did I?" she asked blithely. "But really, you should know better than to trust someone like me. So it's your own fault for being gullible."

His eyes went dark with menace. His fangs length­ened in warning. In their situation, how could he appear so dangerous? As if he were the one in control?

"I was naughty to break my word. I think you should punish me." Her lips curled. "Doesn't your type of male like that sort of thing?"

When she sat on the side of the bed, he leaned up, stretching the chains taut. "I will punish you, Sabine." At her ear, he rasped, "When I get free, the first thing I'm going to do is turn you over my knee. I'm going to whip that exquisite ass of yours until your pale skin is heated and throbbing from my palm. I'll chain you down in my bed, and I swear to you, I will make you beg."

"Then I'll be sure not to free you."

"It won't do you any good. Eventually, I'll get loose. You've drugged me. Tormented my body over and over. Held me against my will. You'll be punished for these things. And you'll pay in kind."

"I cant free you, Rydstrom. I know you plan to use me to escape. I don't intend to lose you this eve-and I don't intend to be captured." When he was still bar­ing his fangs, she said, "Tell me you hadn't planned to escape, and I'll free you."