Page 22 of Prince of Demons
“I’m not going to harm you,” he growled, as irritated that he had to repeat himself on the matter as he was that it was true. If simply killing her had been an option, it would have been a far simpler solution to the problem her presence presented. “I’m nourishing you. So eat.”
The Breeder hid her face in her hands. She drew in a few shaky breaths and rubbed her fingertips against her forehead. “I’m full. If you force me to eat anymore, I’m going to be sick. Unless you plan on going full Seven, you have to let me stop.”
Kesh bared his teeth, frustration nearly drowning out the single note of worry at that word. Feeding her too much could make her sick? Why was that even a thing? A demon could be sated, sure, but sick from consuming too much nourishment? No. If they were this fragile, how humans had managed to overpopulate the planet was a fucking mystery.
“Fine.” It came out as a snarl he almost regretted when the Breeder jumped in response, and her already fear-heavy scent spiked in his nostrils. “Come.”
Georgia hesitated for several seconds, but when he held out an arm and gave her a pointed look, she seemed to finally remember the consequences of disobedience. She followed him out of the room without a word.
For a demon prince, Kesh didn’t have many indulgences. As the lord of his area, he had his pick of hunting grounds, and the taxes his not-so-loyal subjects paid for his patronage afforded him enough wealth to rival the deep coffers of European nobility. He’d never seen much appeal in hunting for sport, nor in most of the human luxuries his riches could buy. Except for maybe one thing.
His bedroom was large but sparsely decorated, because the focus of the room was the floor-to-ceiling wall of windows offering an undisturbed view of the city’s rooftops and the large expanse of the sky above. And in front of it, a large copper tub stood on a dais cut from white marble.
Sefron had set it up as requested and added several sprinkles of pink rose petals and a circle of candles that had long since burned down.
Kesh smothered an eyeroll and crossed the floor to dip a finger into the tub. Cold. Great. Just another wonderful consequence of being forced to take a several-hours detour to that cursed hospital.
He eyed the Breeder, who seemed too transfixed by his large bed to notice his attention, and weighed his options. She smelled like sweat and fear and hospital—scents he usually didn’t mind in a meal—but on her, it was messing with his stupid instincts to the point that he might start fucking cooing at her again at any moment.
However, his energy was so low, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out without eating, and he still wasn’t entirely sure how he’d go about extracting energy from her without permanently harming her. He’d more or less decided on feeding off her negative emotions—something he knew would barely do as a snack on the best of days—and if he waited for as long as it’d take to refill the large tub and bathe the woman, he wouldn’t be able to guarantee that he’d be able to stop in time.
Fuck. He’d just have to count himself lucky that if he did end up cooing like a moron, none of his underlings were around to witness it.
Kesh drew in a deep breath, steeling his resolve before he turned fully around to face the Breeder, mouth partway open to tell her she’d have to wait until after he fed to get clean. Only no sound managed to escape his suddenly desert-dry throat.
On the crisp linen sheets covering his large bed lay a dirty, crumbled shirt and a plain cotton bra, both of which had been covering the Breeder only moments ago. Now, though, she was bare from the waist up, peachy pink nipples tight in the cool air of his bedroom and creamy skin glowing in the sun shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
What…. the shit?
Before he managed more than a grunt of surprise, Georgia hooked her thumbs in her trousers and pushed, letting the fabric drop to the floor.
There wasn’t a power in the universe great enough to force his gaze from the magnetic pull of that hallowed triangle of dark hair between her tightly clasped thighs.
“Okay.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “I’m… I’m ready.”
11
Kesh
Kesh swallowed thickly, attempting to get his too-thick tongue to shape words—any words—but the distraction of her bared vulva was making it hard to think. The hair there was darker than the silky strands on her head, and lush enough to hide the valley below.
He moved without thought, blind urgency driving him toward her. He wasn’t aware he’d crossed the floor until Georgia’s sharp inhale finally broke the spell.
He flicked his eyes from her pussy to her face, frowning at the look on her pretty features. The blood had drained from her skin, and her eyes widened with the same terror he smelled in her scent—but the set of her jaw was pure, steely resolve.
Drawing in a deep breath, the girl backed up a step until the edge of his bed hit the backs of her knees. She kept her gaze locked on his as she climbed onto the mattress—and spread her legs.
The rushing of blood in his ears drowned out any and all sound for several seconds.
“What are you doing?” It came out like a growl.
“You need… to eat. Right? This is how…?” A deep blush spread from her chest up her neck to her cheeks in scarlet blotches, and she closed her thighs partway. “Oh, God, is this not… is this not what you meant? I’m so sorry, I?—”
He gave her a stare laced with enough darkness to silence her mid-sentence.
She thought he intended to take his nourishment from her cunt.
He wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with that approach to energy extraction, though usually when he was so desperate for release he sought out human women for company, he didn’t waste time feeding on them. He wasn’t an incubus—he could get much more satisfying meals with more… bloody methods.
