Chapter 38
Daisy
There he was.
On his damn knees, saying all the things I swore I’d never hear from him.
The way his suit clung to his body, his dark hair falling into those stupidly intense eyes.
Eyes that were somehow soft now and not full of hatred.
The future King of Hell was on his on knees for me.
Gods help me, the heat curling in my stomach at the sight.
Low and traitorous, making my thighs press together to alleviate the pressure building between them.
My body was all in at the sight of him. My heart? Hesitating. My brain? Screaming.
He’d been awful to me. Awful. He’d thrown words like daggers, made me feel like I was nothing, and treat me like some annoying little insect he was being forced to endure.
And now here he was, kneeling and being vulnerable.
Saying I ruled him, like that wasn’t the most insanely confusing thing to hear.
I wanted to shove him as much as I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to scream in his face and then maybe let him tear my dress off me right here on this freaking chair.
Could I forgive him? Hell no. Not right now. But could I stop myself from wanting him? Even a little? Also no. And I think I hated that the most.
I wipe my face, trying to hold myself together. “I don’t know what to say,” I whisper, my voice shaking more than I want it to.
He nods once, like he expected that. Then he rises, slow and tense, dragging a hand through his hair.
He growls, ripping out the band holding his hair and letting those dark waves fall around his face.
Gods, he looked good with it tied back. But loose like this?
Perfect. It framed his sharp jaw, those lips I couldn’t stop thinking about since the last time they were on mine.
“I understand,” he says softly. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’ll earn it, Daisy.”
And just like that, my traitorous heart starts thumping again, louder than my common sense. I bite my lip, unsure of what the hell to say.
“Stop that,” he says immediately.
I blink. “Stop what?”
“Biting your lip.”
I do it again without thinking. Nervous habit, clearly.
“Daisy.” His voice drops into a deep growl.
“Sorry,” I mutter, cheeks burning. I’m mortified and also… weirdly smug about it?
“You have no idea what the sight of you biting your lip does to me.”
Butterflies. There they go. Fluttering like idiots inside my chest. Traitors, every last one.
“What does it do?” I ask, this time biting my lip on purpose.
Everything seems to shift. His eyes darken, and his head tilts in a predatory way.
Oh. Shit.
He shrugs off his suit jacket and tosses it over the velvet bench at the foot of the bed.
His eyes never leave mine as he unbuttons the cuffs on his midnight black shirt and rolls his sleeves up to the elbows—exposing his veined forearms. His tattoos seem to pulse like molten ink beneath his skin.
I clench my thighs even tighter at the sight of him.
I can feel myself practically panting as I watch him.
He steps forward and grips my chin, forcing me to look up at him, “Daisy,” he says, his voice like thunder restrained. “I’m trying. Gods help me, I’m trying to be a better man for you. But if you keep looking at me like that…” his hand tightens ever so slightly. “I won’t be able to hold back.”
I should stop. Be logical about this. He’s an ass. A demonic ass who has been nothing but a bastard to me. But is that going to stop me? Of course it isn’t.
So instead of telling him to shove it, I whisper, “What happens if you don’t?”
His eyes flutter closed for a second, like he’s holding himself together. The tension rolls off him in waves, and I can feel each one crash into me violently as I continue to clench my thighs together to alleviate the growing pressure between them.
“Daisy, sweetheart,” he grits out, “I can smell your arousal.”
“You can WHAT?” I shriek, slapping a hand over my mouth in pure horror.
He chuckles darkly, and the sound skitters down my spine, igniting goosebumps all over my skin. His eyes open again, and the man I’d come to know is gone. What’s looking at me now is something primal. Feral. Something crying to be unleashed.
“I’m giving you one chance,” he says, his voice like silk. “Tell me to get the fuck out of this room. But if you don’t, Daisy… I won’t hold back. Not tonight.”
I try to form a logical thought. But all I can focus on is the way he’s looking at me.
“Why would I tell you to leave?” I ask, breathless.
“Because, little flower,” he says, stepping even closer into me, his voice pure sin. “I want to put you on your knees. I want your mouth around me. I want you trembling and begging, and I don’t have it in me to be soft tonight. If that’s what you need, I’m not your man. Not tonight.”
He leans in, his forehead against mine, his voice trembling with restraint. “But I promise you, when I’m done, you’ll look at me like I hung the stars.”
My mouth is dry. My body is not. I can feel how badly I want him. And I hate it. Hate that I want someone who’s been such an asshole. Hate that I ache for him like he hasn’t broken me over and over.
I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have the experience. But I know what I want. And right now, I want him. This.
“Stop overthinking,” he says sharply. “You don’t need to worry, I’ll be in full control.”
His hand is still on my chin, and my body is burning under his touch. Every nerve is on high alert.
He stares down at me, deadly serious. “Tell me to leave. Or give me permission.”
I should tell him to go. I really should. But my body is a traitor, so instead, I lean forward and press a soft, hesitant kiss to his lips.
He growls, deep and guttural. The next thing I know, I’m in his arms, my legs around his waist, his mouth on mine like he’s starving. My back presses into the soft silk of the bed as he sets me down with my legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. He doesn’t break the kiss—not even for breath.
I moan into his mouth, which earns me a feral growl against my lips in response.
“Fuck, Daisy,” he groans, “you have no idea what you do to me.”
His hands skim up my sides, barely gentle. I can tell he’s trying to hold on to that tiny bit of restraint. I can feel it in the way he breathes, in the way he trembles, his muscles twitching beneath my touch.
“I’m barely holding on here,” he breathes.
“Then don’t,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Don’t hold back.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me. Those pitch-black eyes wild, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with sharp, hungry breaths.
“I could ruin you,” he says softly. “I could destroy you, little flower. Mark you so deeply you’ll never recover.”
“I don’t want to recover,” I breathe.
That’s all it takes.
One violent rip, and the fabric splits like paper, baring me to the warm air. I’m swallowed by the fire in his eyes. He’s staying true to his word, not gentle at all.
“Look at you,” he mutters, dark and possessive. “Laid out like an offering for the devil himself.”
His thumbs drag across my nipples, slow and deliberate, sending lightning straight through my spine. I clutch at his forearms—thick, veined, unrelenting—needing something solid while the rest of me feels like it’s about to disintegrate.
“You were made for this,” he says through panting breaths. “Made to be ruined by me.”
He lowers his mouth to me, devouring my breast with hot, relentless strokes. His tongue circles the sensitive peak before he latches on, sucking hard enough to make my back arch off the mattress.
“Korithax—” I breathe, arching into him.
He growls against my skin, the sound vibrating through me and setting every nerve on fire. He bites down with his pointed canines digging into my flesh, just shy of pain, causing me to whimper as the sharp heat flashes between my legs. My thighs clench, desperate for friction. For him.
“Fucking perfection,” he mumbles between licks and bites. “Every inch of you. Every. Fucking. Inch.”
My thoughts scatter like stardust as his mouth continues its descent down my body, nipping and marking my skin. By the time he reaches my hips, I’m trembling, nails digging into the sheets, gasping for air as I look down at him.
“Lie back,” he commands, voice thick with need.
I don’t even think; I just obey. Because I want to, no, I need to. I sink into the mattress, my dress hanging in tatters around my waist. He rips it the rest of the way off, panties included, tossing them aside. Then he just stares.
His gaze rakes over every inch, slow and unflinching. I squirm under it, suddenly aware of how exposed I am, how utterly at his mercy I am. I try to close my legs, but his hands clamp down on my thighs and force them to remain open.
“Don’t you fucking dare hide from me,” he snarls, eye burning into mine. “You are mine. Mine to touch. Mine to taste. Mine to fucking ruin.”
I’m shaking. From fear? Maybe. From need? Absolutely.
He lowers himself between my legs, his breath hot against my thigh. I know what’s coming, but nothing could prepare me for the first drag of his tongue.
“Oh—Gods—Korithax—”
His tongue strokes through me, slow and deliberate, and I swear the world tilts sideways. One hand pins my hip to the bed, the other wraps under my thigh, keeping me wide open for his mouth.
“You taste like sin,” he murmurs against my heat, his voice rough. “You taste like salvation.”
I cry out again when he sucks on my clit, gently, then harder. My fingers fly to his hair, gripping desperately, and he groans like the sound of my moan is feeding him.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Let me hear you, Daisy. Louder.”
He devours me like he’s starving and I’m his favourite meal. My thighs tremble around his head; every flick of his tongue, every growled breath, sends me spiralling faster. I’m close—so close—and I’ve never felt anything like this in my entire life.
“Oh, God—”
His mouth rips away from me for a single, furious second. “No. There are no gods here, only the devil, princess. Now say my fucking name.”
I whimper, hips jerking, my breath stuttering in my lungs.
“Say it,” he snarls, diving back in without any mercy, sliding a large finger inside me to accompany his mouth. “Say my fucking name while I make you come.”
“K-Korithax—” I cry out, the sound half-sob, half-moan, too overwhelmed to breathe.
“That’s right,” he grits out, adding another finger, stretching me to the point of pain. “Now come for me. Be a good girl and fall apart for your king.”
His fingers drive into me whilst his mouth devours my clit. I shatter as the orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave. It’s violent. Beautiful. All-consuming.
So this is what it felt like. To be worshipped. Consumed. Ruined.
I’m still gasping, blinking up at the ceiling in complete disbelief, when he crawls up over me—his mouth slick with my arousal, his eyes still blazing. He kisses me, slower this time, letting me taste myself on his lips.
I watch as he rises to his knees and slowly undoes every button of his shirt, dragging it over his large shoulders, revealing every inch of veined muscle and tanned skin inked with curling ancient tattoos.
I can’t look away as he lowers his hands to where the deep V falls into hidden territory, his large, veiny hands beginning to undo his belt.
It falls to the floor, and my pulse beings to race as he slowly drags his pants lower.
When his cock springs free, I think I forget how to breathe. My stomach clenches at the size of him. There was no way, no godsdamned way, that was going to fit anywhere in me.
“Korithax…”
“I warned you,” he says, stroking himself lazily. “You didn’t tell me to stop.”
He leans over me again, dragging the thick head of his cock slowly through my arousal, raking it against my clit in slow, teasing circles. My whole body tenses.
“Are you scared?” He asks.
“No,” I whisper, surprising myself.
“Good.”
He thrusts into me in one long, brutal thrust that knocks the breath from my lungs. My back arches, hands clutching at anything I can reach. I’m stretched wide, so full it burns, making me hiss. Every inch, every ridge and vein, stretching me way past my limit.
“Gods,” I scream.
“Wrong. Name,” He growls in my ear.
“Korithax,” I whimper.
“That’s better.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to adjust. He pulls out and flips me onto my stomach.
He drags my hips up until I’m on my knees, face pressed into the mattress.
He grabs my thighs and pulls them apart, his grip bruising.
A loud slap sounds through the air, the stinging sensation following straight after.
I yelp, burying my face into the mattress.
“That was for biting your lip when I told you not to.”
Another loud slap followed by a sting so painful it brings tears to my eyes.
“That one?” He says lowly. “Was just because I wanted to.”
He drives back into me with such force I’m pushed forward into the mattress, the pain unbearable.
But he doesn’t stop. Instead, he grips my hair with his hand, using the force to pull me back into him.
His other hand snakes around my throat, forcing my head back to look up at him, his large frame towering over mine.
He forces two fingers deep into my mouth as he relentlessly pounds into me, the slapping of flesh and my desperate whimpers filling the air.
Tears are streaming down my face from a mixture of pain and pleasure, and he pulls my head further back, a sinister grin on his face, before he spits into my mouth, using his fingers to smear it across my lips.
“That’s my good fucking girl.” Another thrust. “You take me so well, little flower.” Another. “Your little cunt is barely bleeding.”
Bleeding… What?
I don’t have a chance to dwell on it before he removes his fingers and wraps them underneath me, stroking against my clit. I scream, the sensation so overwhelming it makes my entire body tremble.
“Say it,” he pants. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I gasp.
“Again.”
“I’m yours, Kori. Fuck, I’m yours—”
And when I break apart beneath him for the second time, he follows—burying himself deep, his growl turning into a desperate moan as he fills me with his cum.
We collapse into the sheets, sweaty and breathless, clinging to each other. My body hurts, my pussy throbs, and my entire soul has been shattered. And even though the King of Hell just ruined me in every sense of the word… I feel alive.
“Say it again,” he murmurs against my temple.
“What?”
“That you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Kori,” I whisper.
He wraps his arms tightly around me, chest rising and falling in time with my own. “And I’ll spend eternity making sure you never forget it.”
Book made for shanv@