Page 23 of Demonchild

Invisible fingers took hold of her own, and Beliath’s voice chuckled out of the seemingly empty space in front of her.

“It’s a brave woman who offers her hand to a demon,” he said. “I admire that.”

I’ll soon be offering a lot more than my hand, Malissa thought.

Then the demon did something unexpected. He pressed her fingers to his lips. The same lips which had touched her last night in the most intimate of places.

“Your Highness,” he said. “Tonight, I am at your service.”

Malissa suddenly found herself blushing, partly from the oddly chivalrous attitude the demon had adopted, partly from the implications of that final word.

Service.

Beliath tugged her hand gently, drawing her to him, and Malissa allowed herself to be drawn. She did not struggle when she felt his powerful arms coil around her body, and she did not fight when he pulled her against his immense frame. She did not need to see him to know that he was ready to make good on his part of their bargain. She couldfeelhis readiness pressing against her belly, hard and throbbing and hot.

The demon brought one of his hands up and ran his fingers through her hair. Malissa lifted her face in expectation of a kiss.

But the kiss did not come.

“Something is wrong,” Beliath whispered.

“Wrong?”

There was certainly nothing wrong with the part of his anatomy required to consummate their pact. It felt as hard as an oak rod encased in a sheath of supple leather, and the tip was leaking profusely, staining Malissa’s skin with the precursor of the demon’s seed.

“You are troubled,” he said.

Malissa laughed softly in spite of herself.

“I’m in the arms of a demon. What woman wouldn’t be troubled by that?”

“You’d be surprised,” Beliath purred, running his fingers through her hair a second time. “But that’s not really what’s troubling you. There’s something else. Tell me what it is.”

“There’s nothing else, I swear.”

The fingers in her hair suddenly tightened into a fist.

“Tell me,” the demon growled.

CHAPTER 13

Amoment ago, Beliath had told the little queen he was at her service.

He had meant it.

However, he knew from experience that the best way to serve a female was not by simpering and groveling like a slave. Some women required a firmer hand, and Beliath knew how to provide it.

He tightened his grip on the queen’s long, black hair, and he tugged ever so slightly. Her eyes widened in response, and her lips gasped open, offering a view of the wet, pink interior of her mouth. Beliath’s cock throbbed at the sight, and it was all he could do to keep himself from shoving the little queen to her knees in front of him.

Right now, however, he needed her mouth for something else.

Information.

“Tell me,” he repeated.

The queen’s bottom lip trembled. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes filled.

“There is a man,” she said at last. “His name is Jaeger. He is the king’s alchemist and advisor. My husband put him in charge of Drachenval while he’s away at war.”

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