Page 21 of Prince of Demons
“For you. I don’t care for human food.” He released her arm and sank onto one of the bar stools by the island so he could rest his elbows on the counter.
“Then what do you—Oh.” Her voice died off before she could finish the question, her skin turning impossibly paler. “Right. You eat us. How could I forget.”
Kesh rolled his eyes at the tremor in her voice, even while his gut tightened with the ridiculous urge to coo at her until it went away. “Just fucking eat, Breeder. You need sustenance before I can take any energy from you. Unless you’ve changed your mind? I can easily go back for my original meal.”
“No. Please. I haven’t changed my mind,” she croaked, quickly stumbling onto the stool next to him.
He watched her with an irritated scowl as she began to pluck first pieces of fruit, then a roll of bread, layering it with a thin slice of fish. She smelled like fear again, and the sweat, blood, and shit from where she’d knelt on the stained bathroom floor to stop him from killing the other woman.
She was terrified of him, and still, she obeyed his command at the threat to this nameless, faceless human who wouldn’t have been missed by another soul. What a pointless self-sacrifice.
Disgusting.
“That’s not enough.” Kesh narrowed his eyes at the bread roll halfway to the Breeder’s mouth. He may not know much about human nutrition, but he did know that a woman about to provide a demon lord with energy needed more sustenance than that wafery piece of smoked salmon could offer.
“What?” She froze, her arm spasming when he reached forward. But he didn’t touch her—only pushed the dish of yellow butter toward her with two fingers.
“You need more…” He flicked his wrist at the spread when the right word came to him, albeit belatedly. “Calories. Nutrients.”
She eyed him dubiously, but even though she looked like she wanted to argue, she held her tongue. Slowly, she put the roll down, picked off the fish and began spreading a thin layer of butter on the bread.
“More,” he demanded.
The Breeder huffed a breath through her nose. This time, her lips parted before she managed to rein in her protests, but a tightening of his eyes made her close them again.
“And more of that, too,” he said, when butter glistened thickly on top of the roll and she placed the fish on top of it again.
She didn’t look at him—just flattened her lips and picked up another slice of salmon.
“One more. And some of the… green stuff.” He pointed at the vegetation scattered around the tray of salmon. Out of all the variations of human food, plants seemed the least appealing to him. There was no blood and no killing involved, which made it even more uninteresting than whatever else her kind used to fill their bellies. However, he had a vague sense that it was necessary for their survival. Something-something crop-failures and starvation.
Georgia shot him a look out the corner of her eyes before she reached for the feathery foliage and a brightly colored slice of citrus. “Is it okay now?”
“It’ll do.”
She gave him another side-glance before carefully biting into the roll. He wasn’t prepared for the suction in his gut when her eyelids fluttered shut and an involuntary moan of pleasure brushed past the mouthful of food.
Stars above. Kesh clutched at the edge of the countertop, his eyes trained on the Breeder’s pink lips as she chewed and swallowed. Energy pulsed at the base of his spine, the urge to lick butter off the corner of her mouth as intense as it was bewildering.
“Again.” The gruffness in his voice wasn’t from anger this time, but Georgia jumped at the sound of it, her muscles twitching before she took another bite. She didn’t moan with pleasure at the taste like before, not that it did anything to stop the throbbing in his cock at the sight of her taking in nourishment. Nourishment he’d provided.
When she finished the roll, he didn’t wait for her to choose her next piece. He picked up three oysters, two slices of beef, and several pieces of cheese and put them on her plate. “Eat.”
She bit her lip, blunt teeth digging into the pillowy flesh for a hesitant second before she picked up one of the caviar-covered shells.
He nearly came when her tongue darted out to lick up the insides and a small hum escaped her at the taste of it.
Kesh didn’t let her finish what was on her plate this time—he chose bits and pieces from the spread and put them in front of her, his own hunger inflaming his desire to keep feeding the Breeder under his care.
But some forty minutes later, when she was halfway through a large slice of chocolate cake, and before she’d even tasted the deep-red cherries atop it, Georgia put down her fork with a groan.
“You stopped,” he said, the note of warning in his voice making the woman flinch.
“I’m full.”
“You’re not done.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You will eat what I have provided.”
Her eyes darted over the still mostly full platters of food in front of them, widening slightly. “You want me to eat all of…?” She barked a sharp sound—a laugh with more than an edge of hysteria. “Feeding me until I rupture was so not the way I thought you’d kill me.”
