Page 88 of Demon Bound

She worked her way down his body. His eyes grew heavy lidded and distant, and she’d hoped his body would relax as she worked on him, but if anything, he grew more tense. She slid her hand over his sarong, feeling the hard length beneath it. It jumped as she took the thick shape in her hand and lovingly outlined it with her fingers. Azreth hissed in the back of his throat, his hips rolling. She squeezed up and down the length, teasing him slowly.

“What are you doing?” Azreth murmured after a while.

“What do you think?”

“This is pointless,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She raised an eyebrow, watching him suppress a shudder as she stroked his length. “What?”

“I can’t feed from this. I’ve told you, it’s only you—”

“I don’t care about feeding. I want you.”

He stared at her. “It is not necessary.”

“It is to me.” She rubbed her hand over his cock, and it pressed up against her from beneath the fabric of his sarong, hot and eager. “Tell me you want this.”

He looked at her for a long moment, his hips lifting slightly in time with her strokes.

“I do,” he breathed.

Her hand left him just long enough to undo the ties holding his sarong closed, letting his cock spring free. She gingerly ranher fingers over the velvety skin, admiring the gentle pull and stretch as she drew it down to reveal the slick head. Gods, he was beautiful. Was it lewd of her to find his cock beautiful? The flesh was dark blue and vibrant at the tip. It was as tall and blunt and intimidating as the rest of him, but it was sensitive and needy, and it was making him shake with pleasure as she touched it.

He groaned, powerful hands grasping at blankets as his hips strained toward her. “Raiya,” he sighed, the word like a protest, like a prayer, like a poem.

“Azreth,” she replied placidly. She used both her hands on him, putting all her heart into her strokes. “You are so beautiful like this.”

His hips bucked involuntarily, thrusting into her hands. He threw his head back, gasping as he climaxed.

Just as he’d said, he had no ejaculate, but his cock pulsed and strained with his orgasm anyway, mimicking a mortal’s body in every other way.

How odd and fortuitous that the gods had given them the gift of sexual pleasure even though it wasn’t necessary for procreation. It was a kindness done simply to give them a little more joy in their lives. To Raiya, it felt like further evidence that demons were not inherently evil, the way mortals believed. They were intelligent individuals, capable of desire and happiness independent from feeding and survival, though it seemed like even Azreth hadn’t quite believed that about himself.

Azreth let out a sharp, harsh breath. His gaze slanted toward her, and glittering swirls, like faraway galaxies, filled his eyes. Raiya pushed a lock of hair away from his forehead, then found herself running her hand through his hair. She couldn’t stop touching him.

He closed his eyes blissfully. He was unbelievably lovely when he was soft and relaxed. It was an entire new dimension to him that she’d not seen before.

“There is something I must confess,” he said.

He sounded serious, and she stiffened.

“What’s that?”

“In the hells, there is an illness of the mind—a rare and deadly kind of madness that befalls some of us.” He took her hand. “I have felt the change coming over me for some time. I am not myself. I can no longer think properly. I can no longer reason. I care only for one thing. It occupies my mind every waking second. I have tried, and I cannot escape it. The obsession consumes me.”

Raiya’s heart thumped hard. The world had gone still, narrowed to only him. “What are you talking about?”

“I have let myself become addicted to you,” Azreth said. “I think of you always. I crave the feel of your skin and the sound of your voice constantly. Every moment I am away from you feels empty. Where I once would have cared only for myself, I now care for you. It’s torture, and bliss. In the hells, the people who fall victim to this curse are called Enthralled. Once the madness takes hold, it rarely lets go.”

Raiya’s head was swimming. “Are you describing love, Azreth?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. This is what mortals call it.”

The sadness and fear in his voice sent Raiya’s soaring heart crashing to the ground.

He sensed her mood. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, clutching her arms. “This means I’m yours. Your servant. Your slave. Be anything but afraid.”

A madness. He considered love a madness.

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