Page 31 of The Demon Court

Oh, but he should. He had a feeling his bride to be, as they were calling her, would fight against them with every step. But he had to be certain. He had to know this one last detail to see if she had been sent to him as a test. He would waste no more time trying to seduce her if she was only interested in women.

Perhaps it would be easier that way. At least then his pride might not sting so badly, and that was his brother’s domain.

“Come,” he ordered.

Together, they walked through the tangles of people who tried to salvage the night. Ruined. All of it was ruined because of the careless nature of a prude.

Shaking his head, he pulled his shirt off as they went. Something had to tempt her. She’d claimed to be able to feel lust, but that she didn’t feel it for him. Time to put that to the test.

Selene gasped as he shouldered her door open without knocking. She stood in front of her vanity, staring down at the knots he’d tied around her torso as though they were an enemy she had to battle. Two of the skirts he’d wrapped around her waist were already on the floor in a ruined tangle.

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth at the sight of her long, pale legs. Strong legs. Legs that would wrap around his waist in a vise grip, and thick thigh muscles that he’d kill to feel clenched around his skull.

Blowing out through his nose, he gestured for Lara to help. “Your mistress has never worn clothes like this. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind assisting her.”

Selene’s eyes widened. “I don’t need help.”

Not to be deterred, Lara laughed. “Even I need help to get out of those. Lust ties knots like he wants them to stay on for weeks. Let me help.”

Jaw clenched, Lust reclined in one of the chairs beside her fireplace. He avoided the bed, knowing just where his mind would go if he watched his mistress undress this wicked sorceress before him. Those thoughts needed to stay dormant. He wanted to watch. He wanted to see the emotions in her eyes, to know if she reacted to the touch of a practiced woman.

She didn’t. Selene stood frigid as a pillar of ice as Lara ran her hands over her. His servant was quick, but he noticed the lingering touches she placed all along Selene’s body. Light touches, meant to tease and tantalize as only women knew in the seduction of each other. Hidden areas that could only be teased with a feather light graze.

Nothing.

Not a single reaction. Just a stoic discomfort as Lara tried her best to rouse his bride from the dead.

And when she stood in her underclothes and knotted rope, he saw the first bit of emotion flicker in her eyes. Fear. Not the emotion he thought he’d see in her eyes with the touch of another woman running over her.

Anger burned through him. Suddenly he wanted to take Lara’s hands off for ever making Selene uncomfortable. He wanted to hand them as a gift to the sorceress, proof that he’d never do this to her again. But then he remembered that he wasn’t her savior. He was the demon king who had kidnapped her from her home.

Just what did she think would happen here? He would not make her fuck his servant, she was just supposed to enjoy it.

For fuck’s sake, could she enjoy nothing? Maybe the woman really was dead.

“Get out,” he muttered.

Both women looked at him, and he could see the confusion on both of their faces.

“My lord,” Lara murmured, ducking her head. “Would you like me to finish untying her for you?”

The poor thing thought he was displeased with her. This whole night had royally fucked everything up.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as though that might hold back the horrible migraine that pulsed between his eyes. “No. I have no need for you to finish. I can take care of the knots myself.”

“But I thought you wished for me to—”

“Enough, Lara.” His voice boomed a little too loud, a little too frustrated.

Her eyes widened again before she ducked her head and stepped away from Selene. It didn’t escape his notice that the sorceress’s shoulders curved in on herself, as though he’d forced her to endure something horrific.

He waited until Lara closed the door behind herself before he spoke. “Go on, then.”

She looked up at him, silent as ever.

“You want to yell at me, I can tell.” He waved an imperious hand, giving her permission to start. But she didn’t. She only stood there in her underthings and that damned rope, her hands flexing at her sides. “You’ll never get me to believe for a second that’s all you had to say in the throne room. Clearly you wish to argue with me, so spit it out.”

Selene took a deep breath until her ribs showed through her skin in deep hollows. “I would appreciate not being touched by another stranger. At least for a few more days.”

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