Page 26 of Devil's Deal

His warm legs rub mine through my dress when he slowly steps behind me. His forearm locks around my ribs and his other hand brushes aside the hair on my nape that escaped my braids. Ahead, I see only darkness. We are again locked in the intimate enclave of his shadows, and my heart beats faster and faster.

We’re alone. I’m trapped with the devil.

But this time, there is something else mixed in with my terror. Warmth spreads through my body, gathering between my legs, and it’s so powerful, I want to sag against him. A heavy daze presses in on my mind, and my thoughts slow down, but not before I think one last sober one.

This is arousal. And it’s not my own.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Woland says in a low, mesmerizing voice as his palm drifts up to cup my breast. “See, Jaga? You don’t need to be afraid. Just give in. Tell me you’re mine.”

My tongue wants to obey at once, but I press my lips shut, my last coherent thought still swirling under the lustful fog that fills my head and body. I rub my thighs together and moan through closed lips when a clawed finger gently circles my nipple through my dress.

But I am not his, my mind argues laboriously through the heavy pounding of pleasure in my blood. Why would I say that? Why?

“Why?” I ask out loud. The word comes out as a moan.

Euphoria curls between my legs, pounding heat spreading over my most sensitive parts. It feels like a touch, yet it’s not.

Oh, gods. It feels so good.

“Because you belong to me,” he whispers, and his voice seems to come from many directions at once, caressing my ear, playing over my lips, pushing inside me where no one’s ever touched me before. I gasp and press back into him, desperate to feel his hands on me.

And yet, a small, belligerent part of my mind reminds me I shouldn’t. He’s controlling you.

“You want to be mine, don’t you, Jaga?” he whispers, and I shiver from the top of my head down to the soles of my feet as his hot, insistent breath presses to my cheek. He bends low over me, his body curled around me as his fingers lazily fondle my breast in a way that should be forbidden.

He’s so good at this.

My body rages from his touch. Everything inside me, from my lips, through my aching breasts, to my wet, swollen core begs me to give in.

As if sensing that, Woland smiles, gently cupping my cheek and turning me to look at him while he still stands behind me. My lips fall open as I take him in, a new wave of heat surging down my spine to pool low in my belly.

He is magnificent. His skin is still dark gray, his eyes still yellow, his nose still crooked, but I see those features in a new light, like he’s revealed a facet of himself that was hidden before. His antlers spread out like a crown surrounding his head, making him into a wild god, a being of nature and power. I stand in awe, and the fact he is so close, his power brimming over my skin where we touch, makes me lightheaded.

It makes me feel so special. Like a chosen one. A favorite.

No longer demonic, he is the most striking creature I’ve ever seen. Beast, my mind whispers, but the thought doesn’t scare or disgust me. Beast or not, he is so beautiful, I could weep.

I want to worship him. I want to kiss every inch of his face and after I’m done with it, I want to trail my lips down his chest and taut stomach and take him into my mouth. I’m on the brink of saying yes when he speaks again, his white teeth flashing in a seductive smile.

“I’ll give you all the pleasure in the world, mortal. All you need to do is say you’re mine, and I’ll make you come until you scream. It will be the best moment of your pathetic life.”

He lets go of my cheek and grips my breast a bit too hard. I gasp, and he makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat.

Something inside me snaps, a world of hurt blooming behind my heart. A favorite just seconds before, now I feel rejected. Like trash.

Before the feeling overwhelms me, I pack it tightly and hide it away, but the pain does its job. Something is wrong, and I fight against the lustful fog in my mind, desperately trying to think.

Finally, his words sink in. Mortal? Pathetic life? It’s like a sharp prick of a thorn in the most beautiful flower bunch.

The dissonance is just enough to let me think again, though every thought is hard won. My basest instincts are still loud in my head, begging me to give in, to say yes, to do anything he demands.

Begging for his cock.

Yet enough sanity trickles in for me to decide that no, I will not be his. Not because he’s the devil. Not because he’s evil.

Because he doesn’t respect me.

Woland’s clawed hand abandons my breast and slides down my stomach while his lips press to my cheek. I gasp in a deep breath and tighten my body against him.

---