Page 58 of Bad Demon

“Then I order you to … get me off.”

His back was still to me, but I didn’t miss his sharply indrawn breath.

“Your fear just skyrocketed, Tinker Bell.” He took several more deep breaths. “But your pussy—it’s hot, and it’s getting wet again. I can smell it. You want it, but you’re scared as fuck.”

He was right; my clit was too sensitive, but just asking Relic to do that for me had that deep ache throbbing all over again.

“I’m more turned on than scared.”

“You’re still scared of me though.”

“A little,” I said, giving him the truth.

“You think I’m going to hurt you, sweetness?”

No one had ever called me sweetanythingin my entire life.

“No.”

“But you’re scared anyway?”

This was getting too damn deep. I just needed to get off. I needed him to get me off.

“I gave you an order, hound.” The demand was ruined, though, by my trembling voice.

He turned slowly, and I yanked the sheet over my nakedness, hiding my scarred body even though he’d already seen everything.

“Then, I guess I’d better obey.”

ChapterFourteen

RELIC

My female was naked,in pain, curled up at the head of the bed, clutching a sheet to cover herself, to cover those scars on her body. I shook, so full of rage over whoever had done this to her, who had hurt her so much that she was suffering this way. I salivated for their flesh, craved the screams that would come as I tore the meat from their bones.

I didn’t know why she needed this, but I’d give her whatever the fuck she wanted if it made the wild, terrified look in her eyes go away. If ordering me to do this gave her the power back she needed, then she could order me about all she liked, but there was no way I’d do anything that she’d hate me for later. I’d die before I did anything to hurt her more.

“I got you, Tink.” I moved to the side of the bed. “Keep the sheet over you, and scoot down the mattress for me, yeah?”

The attitude left her wide, stunning yellow-green eyes now, replaced by other emotions—not all of them I was capable of naming—but it made my gut hurt and chest tight because even I recognized the shame, the hope, the fear. My female felt vulnerable. The word filled my mind—what it was, what it meant—and every one of my instincts demanded I pull her into my arms and soothe her. Fuck, I hated that I didn’t know what it was like to feel what she was feeling, that I couldn’t fucking help her exactly the way she needed because identifying an emotion was different than experiencing it yourself. I had an understanding because Lucifer had gifted that to us, but that meant fuck all when she was silently asking for something that I had no idea how to give.

“Now what?” she whispered.

My den was engulfed in silence. The only sounds were her quickened breaths and the low, rumbling growls I couldn’t seem to stop from vibrating through my chest.

“How do you usually get off, baby? You always rub your clit, or do you fuck yourself with your fingers?”

Her face went bright red. “I … I, um … my clit.”

“You’re pretty raw there now, yeah?” I asked carefully, keeping my voice as soft as I could because she was skittish as fuck.

Her eyes dipped, avoiding mine. “Yes,” she said so softly that anyone else wouldn’t have heard her reply.

“That’s okay. I can fix that.” I dropped to my knees on the floor beside the bed. “Can I take your hand, Fern?”

Her gaze sliced up to me, and she nodded. “What are you going to do?”

“A hound’s saliva has healing properties. It’ll heal you up fast.”

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