Page 54 of Prince of Demons
“I’m—I’m close! Harder, please, harder!” She bucked up against his touch, thigh muscles tightening as her body was swept away on the rising tide.
Kesh smoothly switched hands, forcing his right thumb to her clit without ever stopping the perfect, maddening stimulation, and pressed his left hand to her forehead. “Squeeze my fingers, gorgeous. Make me feel that perfect little pussy come undone.”
There was no stopping it. He pumped her hard three more times, and then?—
“Ah! Kesh!” Every muscle in her body tightened to the point of snapping as her orgasm roared through her pelvis, heat and pleasure and relief making her cry out wordlessly.
Without warning, fire seared through her forehead where his palm was pressed to her skin. She gasped in shock, but another wave of pleasure from her orgasm softened the pain enough to make it tolerable. Dark magic flared from his hand, burned her forehead, and sank into her mind.
“K-Kesh.” She looked up at him in an instinctive need for reassurance, but her vision blurred and faded, distorting his face.
“Relax, beautiful, it’s just the magic settling in. You’re okay. I’d never harm you,” he said, voice raw as he moved his hand from her forehead to her cheek, cupping it with a gentleness that entirely contrasted his size and strength. “I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. And I don’t. Not now, not ever.” He bent, his mouth finding hers with an urgency that made warmth prickle down her body.
She parted her lips on instinct, still pleasure-drunk from the fading waves of her climax. His kiss was deep and needy, and she moaned softly into his mouth, surrendering.
There was no more pain, just relief as her consciousness slowly gave way.
“I would sell my soul for you if I had one,” he whispered against her lips before pulling back.
The last thing she saw before unconsciousness took her was the blurred outline of his monstrous features morphing into an achingly beautiful man, his dark eyes haunted with regret.
27
Kesh
He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He’d simply intended to make sure Georgia was comfortable and settled, and the mark branded on her forehead wasn’t causing her any pain. But in her unconscious state, she’d pressed herself into his arms as if instinctively needing his protective embrace, and nuzzled her head up underneath his chin where she fit perfectly. As if she were made for him.
When he woke the next morning, she was still nestled against him, fast asleep. Entirely safe in his presence.
“Fuck,” he murmured, peering down at her peaceful face. Traitorous gentleness fluttered through his chest. Not good. Not good at all.
Last night was a fucking disaster. I would sell my soul for you if I had one. What the fuck was he thinking? Oh, that’s right. He wasn’t. It had been all soft, icky feelings and pitiful need.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he rumbled, quietly enough not to wake the little female as he carefully extricated himself from underneath her.
She whined softly in protest at the loss of his body heat, but thankfully slept on.
“I know.” He gently brushed a knuckle over her cheek, then tucked the duvet tightly around her, ensuring she was still warm and secure. She settled down with a rebellious murmur that made his lips pull into a reluctant half-smile. He felt the loss of her body against his as keenly as she did. She’d slept on his chest, pressed against his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to slip back under the covers and return her to where she belonged.
Only she very much did not belong in his embrace. His instincts were spinning out of control because he’d let her cursed scent and his own weakness take the lead, instead of focusing on doing his duty, and nothing else.
“Fuck.” Kesh forced his gaze from the sleeping woman and quietly moved to his closet to find fresh clothes. After dressing himself, he got out one of the dresses he’d purchased for Georgia when she first came into his care. The garment was made from black silk, picked specifically for the way it would flow around her body and feel like a luxurious caress. He’d only bought her dresses; nothing else. Though September, it wasn’t yet cold enough to worry about keeping her warm with thicker clothing, and a Breeder didn’t need undergarments.
Silently cursing himself when his thoughts strayed further down the path of Georgia’s sweet little pussy so easily available under the flowing skirt of the black dress, he laid out the garment and quickly exited the bedroom before his stupid instincts got the better of him. Again.
To Kesh’s displeasure, when his call to his brother connected to the video call, Kain’s face wasn’t the only one that appeared on the wall-mounted screen. His bossy little mate was by his side, and before she opened her mouth, Kesh already knew why the opinionated queen had decided to join them. At least she was holding their squirming son in her arms, too. He’d softened a little toward his difficult sister-in-law since she'd given birth to his nephew.
“Kain. Selma. How are you both? And Kamaran?”
“We’re great,” Selma said, cutting Kain off before he could respond. “You found a woman? A Seer?”
“I found a Breeder, yes.” His tone was pointed. He knew she wasn’t fond of the Breeder moniker, but the claim that her kind had been Seers before demons realized they could carry their spawn had been made by a goddess. If she hadn't mind-fucked his brother with her damned pheromones, Kain would have disabused his mate of the notion that anything a goddess said carried any value, but the king was entirely too soft when it came to Selma. “Or rather, one of my subjects found her and brought her to me.”
“Is she alright? Where is she?”
“She’s fine. She’s been ringed and marked, and she’s currently sleeping.” Kesh looked to his brother, hoping against hope he’d rein in his mate. “Kain, I called to discuss the situation in Maine. Perhaps we can return to the Breeder at another time?”
“Mallorn briefed me last night. A Breeder showing up in your territory is exciting news and will be good for morale amongst your men. Something we can sorely use,” Kain pointed out.
