Page 50 of The Demon Court

She looked over her shoulder at him. “Yearning?”

“It is in my nature to hope that you at least yearn for information. You are frigid, Selene. Let that ice break a little for me.” He trailed the backs of his fingers over her cheek and watched as her eyes widened a bit at his words.

What had he said? She almost looked like she would bolt at any moment before she turned her head back to the front of the room. Swallowing hard again, she finally nodded.

But she didn’t ask questions. Was she testing him? He could sit here keeping his hands to himself for as long as she needed him to, even if that meant he would go insane.

Lust flexed his hands on his thighs and then forced them to remain still. He waited for what felt like hours before he felt her melt against his leg. She leaned against him, startlingly warm for a woman so cold.

“What did it feel like taking a body for the first time?”

His mind skittered toward sex before he realized what she was asking. “How do you know—“

Though his words had trailed off, she seemed to understand what he was trying to ask. “Affection. It talks a lot. Mostly about things I suspect you don’t want me to know.”

“It wasn’t supposed to tell you about any of that,” he grumbled. “Affection knows better than to reveal the secrets of spirits.”

“It didn’t tell me about you, if that makes it any better. It only told me about itself. The rest I pieced together, considering your name and all the rumors.” She stilled as his fingers threaded through her hair, but then relaxed against him as he gently massaged her scalp. “So?”

“So what?”

“What did it feel like?”

The question was one he normally would have exacted a great price to answer. But as his hands trailed down her neck and dug into her shoulders, he found this was pleasing enough. To feel her relaxed and pliant against him, it was rather nice.

“It felt strange. Being a spirit is freeing. There is no physical form to feed or water, and the mist that is our form is easier to slide into places that require much more effort when we are like this.” Lust waited a few moments as her head lolled to the side for him to dig a little deeper into her neck before he slowed his movements, trailing his fingers lightly down the column of her neck. “But a spirit can only live our emotion second hand. We rely on humans to know what it feels like to be angry, afraid, happy, sad. To be in a physical form and to know what lust actually felt like. It was... sublime.”

“I can only imagine such an existence is at first very confusing.”

“Oh, not confusing at all.” He moved his fingers around to her back and then gently undid the first buttons of her dress. “You never forget your first. Isn’t that what mortals say? And I certainly won't forget that memory.”

She shifted a little before clearing her throat. “Were you always a spirit of lust?”

“That’s a question that will require much more touching.” He leaned and hummed in her ear. “Are you sure you want to pay for that one?”

As he asked the question, Lust eased his fingers underneath the heavy back of her gown. She wore another layer underneath it, damned woman, so he couldn’t feel the smooth skin of her back. But somehow, the thin cotton only made her feel all the more fierce.

He waited to see if she would answer, but she didn’t. Instead, she seemed to hover in that place of not knowing. What would he do? What was the price for the question?

Gently, he eased his hands along her ribs. His fingers brushed the sides of her breasts. Their softness was even warmer than the rest of her body, but he did not push for more than he knew she would give. Instead, he lingered on the narrow feeling of her ribcage, how delicate and fragile she was.

Her soft inhalation gave him the answer he searched for. She liked feeling small underneath his hands.

Lust pressed each of his fingers tighter against her, one by one, until he felt the softness of her breasts above his thumbs. It was enough of a touch for her to gasp, not enough to be entirely inappropriate. Still, he heard her hiss out a breath.

No need to rush, he told himself, even as he hardened to the point of pain. They were working on trust, and she’d asked him not to touch certain parts of her. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t tease the rest.

He leaned over her, too large for this space, but knowing it would only make her feel even smaller. “Well?” he asked again, rumbling in her ear. He hardly recognized the depth of his own voice. It had turned so guttural. “What price will you pay for that question?”

Lust trailed his fingers down her ribs, moving across the flat plane of her belly that flexed against his palms. The top of her dress shifted with his movement, gaping forward and revealing enough of blushed skin that he had to look away from the sight.

Wincing, he continued his blind journey. He lingered on the sensitive sides of her torso, to the arches of her hip bones. Her little gasp as he trailed his fingers past them made him hesitate. How far did he want to push her? How far did he want to push himself?

He stopped, the tips of his pointer fingers just inches from where he hoped she was warm, and soft, and wet. “Well?” he asked. “How much do you want to know the answer to that question?”

“Enough,” she whispered. “But not as badly as you want to answer it.”

Confused, he saw movement in the corner of his eye. And that’s when he realized there was a hand-held mirror on her vanity that wasn’t set face down. It angled toward them, just enough for her to see him and all his reactions.

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