Chapter 39
Aryana
The water in Aryana’s bath swirled in eddies, breaking and spiraling away in different directions.
Much like her thoughts.
Zarathos was the demon king. Her worst enemy. Her captor.
The one creature that may care for her more than anyone in this godsforsaken world.
More than humans, more than vampires.
A damn demon. Her Bloodbound. Her… love?
She mouthed the word, testing it on her tongue. She’d been in love before with a vampire who had betrayed her and ruined her trust in everyone, even herself. She’d been in love with a human who hadn’t seen her as anything more than a monster.
And now a demon loved her. The arch king, no less, who ruled through deals and cold indifference, a master of aloofness and manipulation.
He was everything Aryana despised: ruthless, calculating, a creature who thrived on power and promises.
In every respect, he was the embodiment of all she’d fought to escape.
But under that icy facade, buried far beneath the layers of pride and ambition, there was more. It was in the way he fought to protect her, in the rawness that flickered in his voice when he spoke her name. It was a longing for something beyond power, beyond the games he’d spent years perfecting.
And Aryana, despite herself, found that she couldn’t ignore it.
Beneath the demon king’s sharp edges, behind the walls he’d so carefully constructed, was a heart she hadn’t expected.
Something capable of love, even if it was a love that terrified him just as much as it confused her.
In him, she saw the very thing she had never anticipated.
A vulnerability, a need for connection that ran so far deeper than anything he would ever admit.
The soft wet cloth felt wonderful on her skin as she washed off the grime from the last trial and cleaned her body from the aftereffects of Zarathos’s lovemaking. The trial that had meant to be Aryana’s end. And would have been, if not for him.
She ran the soap over her thigh, over the symbol of her Bloodbinding. The way it curled, the two serpents twining together, fighting to become one. She’d once believed it represented her bondage, and now it was an emblem of everything that had passed between her and Zarathos.
When she finished washing, she stood, letting the water run off of her body, leaving her fresh and new in her realization. She stepped out of the tub and pulled on his silk robe. She breathed in his musky scent and sighed. It was wild how calming it was to her.
This wasn’t his full scent. No, she knew what he really smelled like. She’d detected it before, but hadn’t understood its potential for such a dramatic change. She found she preferred his actual scent, just as she was coming to recognize the real Zarathos.
Reaching back down, she pulled the plug, letting the liquid drain.
Then reached up and adjusted the lever on the mechanism above her head.
Since she had recently waited for the water to warm for her own bath, she didn’t have to wait long until the indicator signaled it was the correct temperature.
She tugged the chord, and the water poured out into the tub, filling it. Ingenious.
She spun around when she heard the sharp shutting of Zarathos’s bedchamber door. Creeping forward, she scented the air, but it wasn’t until she peeked out into the main room that she relaxed, seeing Zarathos looking disheveled, clutching yet another new potion in his hands.
This male. Always trying to hide so many secrets.
But as she drew near, she noticed the potion wasn’t the clear one he usually ingested. In the light, it reflected a slight ebony outline.
“Zarathos.”
He glanced up at her and didn’t resist as she slipped the vial from his hand and set it on the vanity. “You look exhausted.”
“Well, someone drank most of my blood.”
“I can return some to you—”
“No. Keep it.” He gave her a tired smile. “I was able to get some meat from the kitchens while I was out. I will be fine.”
“Don’t be considerate of me now. You’re going to make me think we’ll die soon.”
“Unfortunately, there is a very high chance of that happening.”
She grasped his hand and urged him forward, pulling him toward the washroom. “Come.”
He watched her carefully as he followed her. Once they were next to the steaming water, she gripped his shirt and lifted it over his head. She stared in horror at the little bite marks all over his body. She’d done that to him. And he’d allowed it, encouraged it, to keep her safe.
She reached for his trousers, undoing them.
Zarathos caught her wrist. “Vampress, you don’t have to—”
She looked up into his uncertain gaze, certainty coursing through her. “I want to.”
She urged his pants downward, exposing him to her.
His tail unfurled and swung free behind him.
His length before her face. She raised her eyes to his and saw the unabashed desire in his eyes.
He liked her here, kneeling at his feet.
For a moment, all she focused on was the memory of his cock in her mouth, of his blood sliding onto her tongue and her venom leaking into him.
How easily she could make him lose it with her.
How readily she might lose herself in him.
She swallowed and rose.
“Get in.”
He did as he was bidden, stepping into the warm bath. A sigh escaped him as he sank into the water, leaning his head back against the side. Dried blood flaked off as the wetness coated his body. If her many bite marks stung, he didn’t show it.
She grabbed the washcloth off of the ground and pulled the sash on the robe she wore. In a single smooth movement, she shucked it off, letting it glide to the floor.
Zarathos’s eyes roved over her naked form, a hunger sparking even while his lips tugged in a small sign of regret. “You’ve ruined my handiwork.”
“I figured you might enjoy starting over with a fresh canvas.”
He blinked at that, as if unable to believe what he’d heard her say.
She stepped into the water, sinking down in front of him. Zarathos watched her. His glowing eyes gave a slight flicker of hesitation despite the heat consuming them. She drew the cloth up to his chest and ran it around the bite marks on his neck. He flinched slightly.
What had she done to him? “I’m sorry.”
She moved to the next mark on his skin and passed the cloth gently over it. “I’m sorry.”
He grabbed her wrist for the second time. “Don’t.”
She sucked in a shaky breath.
He released her. “Don’t apologize. Not to me. We both know I’m the one who caused this. Don’t ever apologize.”
“Zarathos.” Setting the cloth aside, she inched closer to him.
“How can I not apologize when I see how intensely you regret it? What you’re willing to go through to protect me?
” With care, her fingertips brushed under a bite mark, then dipped beneath the water.
The tip of her nail drew along his cock.
He groaned as she stroked it again, this time with all her fingers.
It twitched under her touch. He was so damn sensitive to her, and she loved it.
She took him full in hand and squeezed.
“Yes, Vampress. Yes,” he gasped. He reached for her, drawing her closer between his legs.
His tail trailed along her ass, then curled upward, wrapping around her waist, holding her possessively.
His clawed fingers trailed along the sides of her breasts, tracing the line where the water met her skin.
Her breasts felt heavy, a shiver of heat and longing raising goosebumps across her flesh.
She touched his silken hair as she moved her hand on his most vulnerable part. He hardened so quickly, his length extending into her grasp. He moaned.
His clawed fingers sank under the water, gripping her waist and jerking her closer.
His breaths blasted against her bare nipples.
Parting his lips, his pronged tongue snaked out, flicking against one tit, then the other.
Aryana’s grip in his hair tightened. And she released him, pressing her middle to his and rolling her hips, dragging her body, aggravatingly up his cock.
“Aryana,” he groaned. “You are going to be the death of me.”
She pressed her wet frame still harder and slid back down before doing it again. And again. Each roll of her body slowly inched over him with a grating force that had him clutching her with a desperation to make her keep going.
“To hell with it.” He reached down, and on her next thrust, he plunged inside of her. “No more games. If you want this, you are going to take it.”
She sank lower onto his cock. “I will take it.” The burning raged inside, her breaths coming faster. To feel her opening clenching around him. To see his reaction to her touch. She began to roll faster and faster.
The water lapped at the tub’s edge, caressing her breasts with each thrust. The steam curled, kissing her flesh with an intense heat.
And soon they were not two bodies but one shifting together, thrusting together, moving in rhythm without abandon.
Aryana gripped the sides of the tub as his clawed nail somehow found its way to her apex, pressing it, titillating it.
She threw her head back and gasped for air.
Her fingers dug into the basin as he claimed her, as he tore her into pieces, shredding every part of her.
That wasn’t fair. She was going to make him come first. “You bastard, you bastard, you…”
She cried out and fell against him, clutching at his wet, beautiful granite skin that she once had found so off-putting. It now was all she wanted.
His tail tightened around her waist.