Page 63 of To Hunt a Demon King

“Keep it,” he said, lifting the ends as if to clasp it around my throat.

“What?” I asked, incredulous. “You’ve been wanting to get this from me since we first met!” I exclaimed, looking at him in shock. “You can’t just give it back.”

He smirked, bending forward to kiss me soundly, and pulling back so our lips were just barely touching.

“I think we’ve both known for a while now that my interest in you is no longer about the necklace,” he murmured, clasping the chain behind my neck again. My face heated as he ran warm fingers over the chain and down to the stone between my breasts. “Keep it for me?”

I looked up, seeing that this was a question. An offer. I nodded, feeling a little tight in my throat at the knowledge that he wouldn’t take Mama’s necklace from me after all.

“Just to be clear,” Carnon said, voice husky as he gazed down at my breasts, which were heaving a little as my pulse kicked up at his stare. He ran a thumb over the stone, shifting his palm so he was cupping one breast. I gasped, clinging to his shirt as he passed his thumb over my nipple.

“This is still mine,” he said, throat gravelly as he caressed me. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the necklace or me, but I honestly didn’t care at that moment. “But I’m entrusting it to you. You’ll keep it for me. Always.” I nodded, letting out a little moan as he stroked again. “Say it, Elara.”

“Always,” I breathed, looking at the necklace still in shock. “Why?” I added, meeting his eyes. Carnon sighed, looking away.

“I would do practically anything for you at this point, Red,” he said, brushing a thumb over my nipple again. “Just…promise me you’ll remember that.”

“Thank you,” I breathed, sinking into him as he angled his lips above mine and brought them down in a bruising, relentless kiss. The necklace seemed to hum in approval against me, and the demon magic curled inside me. This was not like my first time with him, all gentle teasing and exploration and consideration. This was fierce and frantic and desperate.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he rasped out, making me whine as he stopped kissing me. He smirked, his hands working at my laces to tear off my bodice and then my shirt. He pulled the camisole off me in one rough move.

“Freckles,” he rasped, pressing his lips to my throat and my collarbone as he palmed both of my breasts, flicking his thumbs over the tender nubs. I gasped again, wanting more of him. Needing to feel skin against skin as I began to tear at the buttons of his shirt. He pulled it off, ignoring the buttons completely, then turning his attention to the laces of my trousers.

“I need you,” he rasped, pulling off the trousers, then realizing belatedly I was still wearing my boots. He growled in frustration, making me laugh. It quickly turned into a moan as he gave up on the boots and pressed his mouth against my center, lifting me from behind as he slid his tongue over and through me. “Gods, Elara.”

My ankles were trapped by the trousers, and I writhed against him, trying to angle myself for maximum sensation. The fact that I was stuck seemed to excite him further, and he lifted his head, giving me a wicked look before lifting my knees over his shoulders so that I was caging him against me.

“Carnon,” I breathed, gripping at the bedsheets as he returned his tongue to me, circling over and over as he worked me into a frenzy. I felt the sensations in me spiraling, and bucked as I tried to get him exactly where I wanted him. I groaned as I felt his tongue sweep into me, thrusting as if he was trying to taste the very center of me. I shattered against him with a cry, release spooling out from me as he continued to lick and tease.

“Jasmine,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “And sandalwood,” another kiss to my inner knee. “And vanilla,” one more kiss to my center as he swiped his tongue through me again. I shivered as he lifted my legs, taking the time to finally unlace my boots and remove my trousers properly.

I propped myself up as he unlaced his own boots and trousers, eyes sweeping over me as I lay sprawled before him on the bed.

“When,” I said, my throat a little dry from moaning his name as I came. “When did it stop being about the necklace?”

He prowled over me, the hard length of him pressing to my stomach as he pulled me into him for another kiss. “When the rusalka dragged you into that river,” he said, flipping us effortlessly so that he held me to his chest as he lay on his back, my legs straddling his hips. “I realized that it wasn’t the shadow stone I was worried about never seeing again.”

I blushed, feeling his length press against my center, hard and demanding, and I wondered vaguely what it would be like to take him like this. I looked down at him, my braid hanging over my shoulder to tickle his chin.

He smiled, pulling the braid free and loosening the strands of my hair with his fingers. “Whatever you are thinking right now, Red,” he growled, “I agree.” I laughed, leaning down to kiss him as his confession washed over me. It filled me with a bubbling, tingling warmth, and he gripped me tightly, the kiss turning feral again as he captured my lips and tongue with his. He pressed himself roughly against me until I gasped, sliding my hot, wet center over his length.

“Yes, or no?” he asked, guiding himself to my entrance. Instead of answering with words, I slid back onto him, feeling him part me as he groaned. I sat up, gasping slightly at the pressure as he filled me to the hilt, the different angle eliciting a new sensation than when we had been together in his old house.

“Ride me, Red,” he rasped. “Fucking gods, please.” His words stirred a fire in me, and his hands reached up to cup my breasts, thumbs flicking over the nipples as I moved. He groaned, making me smile.

“Is this okay?” I asked, breathing out the question on a gasp. I wanted to give him as much pleasure as he had given me.

“Everything you do is fucking perfect,” he groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure as I moved. I sped up a little, dipping my head to catch his lower lip between my teeth.

He took back some of the control then, wrapping one arm tightly around my back as the other gripped my behind, pulling me closer and faster, and pulling him deeper into me. I gasped as he kissed me, increasing his pace as he thrust into me from below.

I met his thrusts, moving my own hips in time with his as spooling, glowing warmth built in me again, making me pant and gasp between frantic kisses. I cried out, arching my back against his hold as warmth spiraled out of me in waves of pleasure. He followed quickly, spilling into me with a deep groan that I felt all through my core to my nipples.

I collapsed on top of him, our bodies still joined as he rolled us again, his weight was on me as he continued to kiss me fiercely. To my surprise, he didn’t stop, thrusting into me gently and eliciting shivers of pleasure as he moved.

“I thought men could only do this once,” I breathed, tilting my face so I could speak, as he turned his kisses to my throat.

“Most men can,” he replied, words rough against my skin. “But I am not most men.” He increased his pace again, pounding into me until I was crying out, the pleasure of his touch and his weight almost enough to send me over that edge again.

---