Page 34 of Devil's Deal

Around us, raucous laughter and shouts rise. My face flames with embarrassment as understanding dawns. I was so enraptured by the experience of being chosen that I forgot the next part. Did I just agree to… No.

I take my chaplet in silence, suddenly tongue-tied.

I know I’m not required to let him fuck me. But that’s what always happens. The boy who gets the chaplet has the honor of being the maiden’s first Kupala lover. And if he still wants her in the morning…

Her husband.

Woland laughs under his breath as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. I look up, flustered and defensive.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “I won’t steal your maidenhead if you still have it. But we must give them something, hm? Hold still.”

I obey his command out of sheer uncertainty. This situation is utterly new to me and, judging by the murmurs and excited voices rising in gossip, to everyone else, too. I don’t know how to behave in my new, if temporary, role of the most desired maiden, so I do as he says.

Woland cups the back of my head, his warm fingers tangling in my hair, and leans in. I gasp softly, my breath shuddering out of me as I stare up into his eyes. They flash gold, just for a moment, reminding me who he really is, and then his mouth is on mine.

I’ve never been kissed before, so I am utterly still as his mouth presses into mine, moving slowly. His lips are warm and soft, the kiss unhurried but demanding. When his tongue flicks at the seam between my lips, I part them for him, and he sucks my lower lip into his mouth with a sigh of pleasure.

That’s what undoes me. Not the feel of him, not the sight of his glorious mortal body. It’s the soft, honest sound that makes me kiss him back.

As soon as my mouth moves against his, hesitant but eager, a deep moan vibrates in his throat. He grabs my hand and presses it to his naked chest, angling my head back with his other hand. When his tongue slicks inside my mouth, I gasp, grabbing onto his waist. My chaplet falls into the grass, forgotten.

And I’m suddenly afraid I’ll fall.

Woland nips on my lower lip hard, his mouth curling in a smile when I hiss from the pain of his bite. He pulls back, watching me with glittering, golden eyes. Whatever he sees in my face must please him very much, because his grin widens, gaining a mocking edge.

I make to pull back but he holds me tightly.

“The show isn’t over yet,” he whispers, untangling his fingers from my hair.

He raises his hand slowly and holds it above his head. I look at him in confusion and he arches an eyebrow as if to say, “wait and see.”

Then he snaps his fingers. The world grows silent for one heartbeat. And then the music, which became just a gentle background noise during the chaplet ritual, swells and speeds up with wild, harsh sounds that are nothing like our music.

My knees weaken and my heart spasms, trying to synchronize to the tune. A cacophony of sounds bursts all around us, and Woland throws his head back and laughs while his skin turns dark gray again, antlers sprouting from his head, the hands holding me growing claws.

“What is this?” I whisper, terrified, while a pulsing beat slithers inside my body, rushing my blood to flow faster and faster as my hands grow clammy.

“What did you do?”

Chapter twelve

Antlers

Instead of answering, he puts his hand on my lower back and guides me away from the river. As we make our way through the throng of otherworldly beings, I’m shocked to see couples and groups kissing, undressing, and writhing together in the grass.

I just catch sight of Strzybog laughing as he holds half-naked Nyja in his arms when Woland grunts with displeasure and picks me up, one arm under my knees, one securing my back.

“Hold on,” he says.

I have just enough time to put my arms around his muscle-corded neck when he braces and jumps, soaring higher and further than should be possible with his weight and bulk. We land with a thud of hooves behind a fucking, moaning heap of creatures, fur tangled with bare skin.

“What’s happening?” I ask, my throat tight as the wild pulse of music beats within me, warming my hips and slickening my core.

I feel restless, Woland’s hands on me igniting my mind and body. For a moment, I fear he’s manipulating me again, but this feels different. I’m clearheaded and in control, and yet… It’s like something is gone. Like I’m free to feel and do as I want, and what I want is his touch.

I shake my head. No. It’s impossible.

Woland stops at the far side of the circle. No one but us is here, most of the supernatural crowd gathered by the river. He puts me down gently and lifts my chin so I’m forced to look at his face. A loud moan drifts over from outside the circle, then another, but I can’t look. My gaze is trapped in his golden eyes.

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