Page 40 of Court of Evil

“Did it work?” I ask, even though I know the answer. I can feel it. A throb in my chest echoes in his. I can feel him all over and in me, although I still feel weak from what happened.

“Yes, mistress,” he hisses, his head tilting like an animal. “We must finish sealing the bond though.”

“How?” I ask, still swaying.

“You must drink, mistress.”

I frown, not understanding, and he crawls towards me, naked and chained. The sight should disturb me, but instead desire courses through me.

I fall back, but he simply crawls over me, sliding up my body. Shit. I try to scoot backwards as his hips stop above my face. A droplet of blood drips from the tip of his cock, hitting my cheek as I turn away.

“You must drink, mistress. I took you into my body, so now you must take me,” he hisses, pressing towards me.

“Fuck that,” I mutter.

Flipping, I grip the sand and try to drag myself away, but the chains wrap around me, yanking me under him.

“Let me serve my mistress.”

I am turned over, and his cock is presented to me again.

“If you do not, our bond will break and you will die,” he pleads, his eyes widening like open pools. “Please, mistress.”

“Is this the only way?” I mutter.

Why does it have to be his cock, for fuck’s sake?

Why are monster rituals such sexual things?

“Yes, mistress, quickly,” he hisses, flashing his fangs. Another drop of blood drips down, and this time I let it hit my lip. It seems to absorb into my skin, and I shudder as power shoots through me. Another drip and I open my mouth, letting it hit my tongue.

He groans as he watches me. “Please, mistress.” His hips roll desperately.

With no choice, I wrap my lips around his cock, drinking the blood from him. My hand strokes him as I suck his tip. Each drop is a burst of power, chasing away the weakness.

Pumping him harder, I drink his pleasure. When he bellows and jerks in my mouth, thrusting his cum down my throat, I swallow it down.

As I lick up every drop, he whines, his hips stuttering and pushing deeper. I release him from my mouth, all my weakness gone.

I feel stronger than I ever have, though I’m slow to admit that.

I feel . . .powerful.

Sitting up, I slide out from under him as he shudders, and the chains finally fall away, dropping into the sand and seeming to absorb into it. He sways on his knees, his chest heaving.

The sight he presents is incredible, but when his eyes open, I look away, not wanting the tempest to realise how truly tempting he is.

His voice is softer when he speaks. “It is done, mistress. We cannot be parted now.”

Nodding, I lean back into the sand, swallowing thickly and giving myself a moment to breathe, but he seems to take that as an invitation.

He lies across my lap and purrs like a cat, arching up into me until I stroke his hair and back without meaning to. My hand seems to find his body as if it’s an extension of mine, and his eyes close in bliss.

I should push him away, but something about him being close brings me comfort. It’s probably my soul inside him connecting with me, or at least that’s what I tell myself as the seven-foot, muscle-bound tempest curls around me.

“Well, you certainly have a way with monsters,” the fae deadpans, and I look up to see him leaning casually against a column. My eyes widen, and I wonder how long he’s been there. “I enjoyed the show, but unless you would like to release me long enough to kill those hunters, I suggest we leave. I believe you would be against a massacre.”

Ronan floats at his side, and just then, I hear echoes from above.

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