Devil's Deal: A Dark Fantasy Romance

12. Antlers

Instead of answering, he puts his hand on my lower back and guides me away from the river. As we make our way through the throng of otherworldly beings, I’m shocked to see couples and groups kissing, undressing, and writhing together in the grass.

I just catch sight of Strzybog laughing as he holds half-naked Nyja in his arms when Woland grunts with displeasure and picks me up, one arm under my knees, one securing my back.

“Hold on,” he says.

I have just enough time to put my arms around his muscle-corded neck when he braces and jumps, soaring higher and further than should be possible with his weight and bulk. We land with a thud of hooves behind a fucking, moaning heap of creatures, fur tangled with bare skin.

“What’s happening?” I ask, my throat tight as the wild pulse of music beats within me, warming my hips and slickening my core.

I feel restless, Woland’s hands on me igniting my mind and body. For a moment, I fear he’s manipulating me again, but this feels different. I’m clearheaded and in control, and yet… It’s like something is gone. Like I’m free to feel and do as I want, and what I want is his touch.

I shake my head. No. It’s impossible.

Woland stops at the far side of the circle. No one but us is here, most of the supernatural crowd gathered by the river. He puts me down gently and lifts my chin so I’m forced to look at his face. A loud moan drifts over from outside the circle, then another, but I can’t look. My gaze is trapped in his golden eyes.

I hate that my face heats in a blush. It’s so much worse because I know he misses nothing. He sees how affected I am.

“Well then, poppy witch,” he says, holding my gaze as his black tongue flicks out to wet his lower lip. “You won’t give me your soul and fealty. But you must give me something since I am the one who won your chaplet.”

I breathe out shakily, bidding my body to behave even as it heats with restless want. Woland’s attention and touch ignites me faster, and when he grins knowingly, a bit mocking, a bit pleased, my stomach swoops with shameless excitement.

“What do you want?” I ask, my voice breathless.

He turns me around and stands behind me, curving his forearm around my ribs while his other hand points at a heap of naked bodies twisted together in the grass. My breath stutters, shaky and shocked, when I make out the details.

All the maidens are naked, lying on their backs in the soft grass with their legs spread wide open. And each of them has a man between her thighs, either thrusting with his hips or lapping with his tongue. As I watch, Ida moans loudly, grabbing Janek’s ass and pulling him deeper inside her.

“I want you on your back for me,” Woland whispers in my ear.

A pulse of desire beats between my legs, so powerful, I grow rigid from shock. My thoughts stutter to a halt and then resume with frenetic urgency. I have to control myself. I have to stop it.

As he stands behind me, pressing intimately to the length of my body, I force myself to grow numb. My eyes glaze over as I take in the orgy of carnal bliss, and then trail away in search of a more neutral view. I desperately try to stay calm.

To the left, I see Bogna standing with her husband. He looks at the tangled mass of naked bodies with a lecherous expression on his face. Behind them, older couples dance, laughing in loud, raucous voices. Half the women have lost their kerchiefs, their hair flying loose. I see a breast flashing in the throng here and there, naked skin glowing golden in the firelight.

At the edge of the meadow, yet still in open view, a few couples fuck in the grass. My eyes widen when I see the zerca with his robe lifted, Milka, the carpenter’s wife, sucking his cock on her knees.

This is wrong, I think even as my own body pulses with needy heat. It feels much more natural than the mindless state Woland caused in me earlier. Yet, it’s still out of place.

Kupala Night is usually wild and carnal, but never like this. People who want to fuck go into the bushes, and it’s rarely out in the open. And I’ve never seen Jarota, of all people, indulging in public. He cares about appearances too much.

“What did you do?” I ask, studying the scene even as the beat of the drums settles deep in my hips, my pounding need matching the rhythm. “You’re making everyone wild and careless.”

“I’m not making them do anything,” he says softly, trailing the tips of his claws down my neck until my skin breaks out in goosebumps. “I just took something away so they can enjoy themselves.”

“What did you take away?” I gasp, the pleasure of his touch too much to ignore.

“Shame,” he answers, his claws now trailing just above my breasts.

“Am… Am I affected, too?” I ask, but I already know. Heat pounds between my legs, the need to press into him and make him hard swirling in my blood.

Oh gods. What am I thinking?

“It’s in the music,” he answers, his voice a low, intimate purr. His breath tickles my earlobe in a way that has no right to feel so exciting. “And to be fair, you keep refusing me not out of shame but out of pigheadedness. I didn’t take that away from you.”

I shake my head, hating that he won’t give me a straight answer. He says I’m affected, because I hear the music, and yet not because… Because shame wouldn’t stop me from fucking him? It’s a lie, I decide. Shame would absolutely make me refuse to fuck the devil out in the open.

With it gone, the prospect grows more appealing by the minute. Especially after he caught my chaplet. It shouldn’t mean so much to me, but it does. I can’t deny it.

“You’re a liar,” I say, but my voice is breathy and hot, arousal coursing freely through my body as his hand drops to my hip, wide-splayed fingers covering the entire curve of it.

It is unthinkable, but I want… I want him. The realization stuns me, and for a moment, I suspect he’s controlling me again. But no, I can tell the difference. This is all me, and yet, it’s impossible. I’d never want the devil. He’s cruel. He’s evil. Forbidden.

Wanting him means I am bad, too.

“Is it still a lie if I know a smart woman like you will see right through it?” he asks, his claws dragging down my dress between my breasts as he takes a small step back, giving me more space. His touch isn’t completely inappropriate and yet, it has me in a chokehold.

He teases me and it stokes the fire in my belly. It makes me want his hands on my bare skin.

“Yes,” I answer, desperately holding on to my sanity. “It’s a lie.”

Why, why do I suddenly want him like this? I gather my wits and tear out of his grip, turning to face him. Woland cocks his head to the side, his neck tensing from the enormous weight of his antlers. He watches me with a curious, amused expression.

When my eyes flit down for just a second, I gasp and take a step back.

His cock is hard, jutting out in a proportional, rigid shape. The swollen head points right at me.

“No,” I say, as much to myself as to him. Because, all gods be damned, I want him. The need is so powerful, I’m suddenly terrified I won’t be able to refuse him.

“Why not?” he asks, golden eyes glittering as he takes a step closer.

I stumble back, keeping the distance between us from closing. He advances again, and I retreat. Over and over, until my back presses to the invisible boundary of the circle. A whimper escapes between my clenched teeth, and Woland stands so close, his antlers obscure the sky above my head.

He lifts my chin so I am forced to look at his face.

“Why not, poppy girl? You put on such a pretty chaplet tonight. The prettiest. Surely you wanted to entice somebody, and you did. I am thoroughly enticed. I caught it so I could have you.”

Did I?Was that truly what I wanted to do tonight? I don’t know. My thoughts scatter, pushed adrift by the hot blood pounding in my temples. Woland grins, his white teeth insanely bright against his gray skin as he caresses my throat.

“You can’t hide it,” he says quietly, gripping my nape in a possessive hold. “From the very beginning, there was a spark. You hated and feared me from the moment we met, but this was underneath all the time, wasn’t it? You long for the forbidden.”

I shake my head weakly, trying to push past the unyielding barrier at my back. I am so slick between my thighs, it feels like a travesty. And it takes all I have not to glance down.

Woland’s grin widens, his fingers pressing into my skin. For the briefest moment, the points of his claws dig in, making a shiver go down my spine.

“And still, she fights,” he says in a low voice, his thumb caressing the edge of my jaw. “Look around you, poppy girl. Everyone’s let loose, letting bliss take over their bodies. Why do you insist on being the only miserable one?”

Oh gods, I’m going to give in, I realize with a sinking feeling that tastes like relief.

“Because I don’t trust you,” I grit out, making one last bid for sanity. “And you don’t really want me. You want to own me, and that’s not the same.”

He pushes down on my lower lip in a rough caress while his other hand settles on my lower back. My breath hitches in my throat.

“I want both,” he says, his glittering eyes pulling me in. “But like I said, I’ll take just fucking you tonight. And if you doubt my lust, look down. It’s plain enough.”

When I don’t do as he says, closing my eyes instead, he pulls me roughly closer. Our bodies are flush, his thick erection trapped between us, his hand kneading my ass in a slow, possessive rhythm. My breath is so fast and shallow, it makes me dizzy.

Gods, the way he feels pressed to me is everything. He is so utterly male and powerful, and yes, I admit it now. He is what I want. A powerful being from the realm of gods. I don’t care if he is the devil. I don’t care that he’s cruel and violent.

No, indeed, his cruelty makes me wetter. I lust for him precisely because of what he is.

And if I had my shame, I would feel it acutely now. Because—him? Is that really what I want, the kind of woman I am? But my shame is gone. All that is left is the blinding heat coursing through my body as he pushes his thigh between my legs with a rough growl.

“Come on, poppy witch. I see your desire like a cloud of red smoke around your body. It’s no use hiding.”

I bite my lip and release a shaky breath, realizing I cannot win this fight. And that’s because I don’t really want to. He’s right about everything. I want to be wanted, to be fucked, to let loose. For once in my life, I want Kupala to be more than just the fire trial I undergo every year to prove I am not a witch.

But that doesn’t mean I should give myself away without getting something in return.

“And you’ll leave me alone after we’re done, yes?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed even as my body burns, every point of contact between us exploding with mind-numbing bliss.

He yanks his leg up, raising me clean off the grass, my hot core riding his thick thigh. I hiccup and moan at once, the sound abrupt and pleading.

“If you say yes, I will do exactly what you told me to do,” he answers, as glib and indirect as always, but I have no patience to negotiate anymore.

“Fine,” I say, opening my eyes.

I am not prepared for the instant shift in his expression. It is so sudden, it’s like a mask falls off. Tempting and controlled before, it turns into something hungry and wild, his eyes blazing with liquid gold, his teeth bared, muscles tense over his sharp bones.

I get only a glimpse before his hand is in my hair, tugging roughly, and his mouth is on mine.

Oh gods.

This is only the second kiss in my life, and yet, my lack of experience means nothing. It’s like he doesn’t expect me to participate at all. I only have to take what he gives me. What he commands me to take.

His hot tongue is in my mouth, pushing deep. His lips move against mine, bruising and hungry, sucking and kissing me into submission. The force of it is so great, my legs weaken and shake, but he’s there, holding me up without effort, angling my face and body for his pleasure. He does with me what he wants, and I’m overcome with sweet, hot weakness.

It’s the best feeling in the world. And the worst, too. I’m losing myself.

Suddenly, he makes a sound, a deep, reverberating growl, and my lower lip splits with a hot sting.

I taste blood, and he grunts in satisfaction, sucking my lip into his mouth as he drinks.

I know I should push him away. This is not how humans kiss or fuck. I know because I’ve seen enough people going at it in the bushes. Even the basest, most primal coupling was tame compared to this.

It’s like he’s an animal feasting on me. And I’m helpless to stop him, because his every rough, pleasurable sound settles between my legs like a caress, tightening my need into a hot, pulsing cord. I never want it to stop.

When he hooks his hand under my knee, pulling me impatiently closer, I follow the unspoken command and wrap my legs around his hips. His cock presses to me through a thin layer of fabric, making my breath hitch.

“See?” he murmurs, his mouth dropping to the corner of mine before he places an unexpectedly chaste kiss there. His lips are hot and wet. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

“Another lie,” I gasp out when he rolls his hips, his cock rubbing against me. The memory of the thorns circling the base flashes in my mind with a pang of fear, but I feel nothing sharp. Just hot, male hardness.

“Is it?” he asks, pulling back. His eyes glitter like jewels in the dark. “Let me make it up to you, then.”

The world tumbles and dips around me, my breath scratching in my throat when I swallow a scream. I’m falling, and then I’m not. Woland lays me on my back in the grass, his antlers looming against the starlit sky as he kneels between my legs, my dress tangled luridly around my waist.

Through my lustful fog, I hear moans and shouts of pleasure from afar. The nearest fire crackles, sending sparks into the summer night air.

“What will you do?” I ask, breathless and dizzy.

His eyes burn as he lays his big, clawed hands on my inner thighs and spreads my legs wide apart. I gasp. My underwear is gone, I don’t even know how, and cool night air strokes the sizzling heat between my legs.

“Make up for my lies,” he says with a wicked glint in his eye.

I raise myself on my elbows, watching with wide eyes as he pushes back, moving with sinuous grace. Big and powerful, he has the surprising grace of a prowling lynx, and I swallow convulsively when he lowers his head, shooting me one last, glittering look from between my thighs.

Then his mouth is on me, his antlers caging my hips. Trapping me.

I let my head fall back with a muffled moan when he takes my sensitive flesh into his mouth and sucks, making a low, pleased sound in the back of his throat. There’s no honey between my legs, yet he laps at me like I’m a delicacy fit for a god.

“If this is… the apology… then lie all you want,” I pant out, my breath hot and free, my mouth loose.

“I will,” he says, golden eyes flashing between my legs.

Pleasure builds and sizzles, the prongs of Woland’s antlers digging into my belly when I raise my hips greedily. I never expected this to feel so good, so utterly decadent. I finally understand the appeal of sex and all the tension around it.

“Scream for me.”

A sharp sting mars the bliss, one of my labia cut with magic. I cry out while Woland growls with pleasure, sucking the wound into his mouth. I tear out clumps of grass with my seeking, desperate hands, but the pain fades quickly, replaced by even greater pleasure.

“Fuck!” I spit out through gritted teeth, grabbing onto his antlers. He grunts, the sound utterly beastly, and pushes his tongue inside me. Hot and thick, it presses deep, and my hips buck, inviting him deeper.

I’m almost there. The glittering, bright reality of my orgasm looms just out of reach. Ready to go off.

Woland takes my clit into his mouth, sucking hard. My entire body tenses, small shivers going through me as my muscles scream for the impending relief. I just need… a second…

He stops and looks up, his mouth smeared with my blood.

“Say you’re mine and I’ll let you come.”