Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Rayven
A scream froze in my throat as skeleton hands creeped over the side of the sarcophagus lid, bony fingers clacking as they probed in search of me. My mind spun trying to figure out what in the Nine Hells was going on.
They were coming from inside the sarcophagus.
The remains of whoever's grave this was had come to life to aid their Lord in our play session.
Part of me couldn't believe Belial would go that far for kinky sex. Then again, that was a big part of what made my sex life so exciting. No matter how many times we fucked, we were still finding new ways to keep each encounter electric and wickedly titillating.
A hand found my ankle, pinning it in place. The other was snatched a few seconds later, making it impossible to move my legs. My hands were still free—
Was he going to hold my arms down himself? I flushed at the thought as heat sank to my center.
Yes. Hold me down.
Frustration wound through me when Belial folded his arms over his chest, as if the asshole knew exactly what I wanted and was withholding it from me. He got off on driving me crazy.
“Aw, look at that fucking pout,” he mocked with a dark chuckle. “What’s the matter, little human? You want me to be the one to hold you down? Well too bad. I need my hands free for what I have planned for you.”
I was thrown for a loop when a second set of skeleton hands emerged over the stone lid's lip. Holy crap, it wasn't just one skeleton in the coffin. There were two—no, three. Too many for one grave. They swarmed me, taking hold of my arms and pulling downward, forcing me onto my back.
The moment my spine was flush with the cold stone, fleshless fingers slipped over my throat—
“Don’t touch her there!” Belial barked. The sound of shattering bone exploded in my ears, the hand blown to bits on my next breath.
The last set of hands opted to hold my head down by my temples, and I didn’t miss the way they all shook in terror. One wrong move, and my possessive mate would shatter them from existence.
“Th–There are so many,” I panted, still in disbelief that there were so many souls packed into one grave.
Belial's rough chuckle scraped my skin like sandpaper. "Sometimes, I think you forget why I am called the Lord of Bones. I don't simply collect them. I own them, I control them, every shard, every ounce of marrow—it’s all mine. That includes yours too, Rayven.”
"You're fucked up," I gasped, as the skeleton hands pulled me tighter against the stone slab.
The demon cocked his head, his charms and chains spilling to one side as he analyzed my tone. "You're a good little actress, pretending you're not enjoying every bit of this as I—”
The words froze in his throat when something on my leg seized his attention. His eyes narrowed into deadly slivers as he leaned over the sarcophagus, bracing one hand on its corner as the other skimmed over my shin. An involuntary hiss dropped from my lips when he touched something tender.
Uh oh.
I'd been cut in the hedge maze. It wasn't deep. The sting hadn't even registered until he touched it, but that didn't matter. Only he was allowed to mark my skin. In the thrill of the chase, I'd accidentally cut myself and, therefore, I had to pay the price.
Belial drifted closer to examine the crux between my thighs. He ran a gloved finger between my folds, muttering a curse beneath his breath when he found me absolutely soaking. “You have no shame these days, do you?”
I wriggled my hips, grinning like a mad woman. “Nope. You fucked it all out of me. So whatever you have in store for me, bring it. Your punishments are more like a reward anyway.”
Both his brows arched and, at that moment, I realized I made a mistake. “Ah, so the tongue fucking I was planning on giving you as a reward for taking on the blood oak is not needed then? The spanking I’m about to give you is reward enough, is it?”
“No! That’s not what—”
"Turn her over," Belial commanded the skeletons, his booming command so loud it drowned out my protests.
The world flipped as the skeletal hands repositioned me, turning me over like some kind of baked good. Fitting, since I was about to be devoured.
Frigid stone kissed my cheeks, my breasts, my stomach. Since I was completely naked, aside from my boots, there wasn't much of anything to keep me warm.
"Looks like you could do with some warming up. You're shivering."
My pulse rammed at the hunger rife in his voice, and it accelerated when he threw his gloves down on the sarcophagus. They landed so close to my face that his musk of pine and strawberries embedded in the leather tickled my nose.
He was going to do this with his bare hands. It would sting more that way.
Catching his mischievous lilt, my muscles went rigid and he laughed.
"You knew this was coming. And I, for a fact, know that you're looking forward to this. The last time I spanked you in this cemetery, you were so worked up that you had to finger yourself right on top of my old chamber maid’s grave.”
A fragmented “f–fuck you” was the only response I could scrape up, and before it had fully left my mouth, he delivered the first smack to the globe of my ass.
“Oh, shit,” I groaned against the stone, a half sob caught in my throat. The first strike had packed a wallop, and I knew the rest to come would be just as harsh.
My body tensed, waiting for the second blow to land. Several seconds crawled by. The sadistic bastard was basking in the tension.
The second spank came like a crack of deafening thunder. This one landed on both my buttocks so heavily that the bones holding me down rattled. I swallowed down my gasp as my skin burned like it was on fire.
Delicious flames of pleasure zipped up my back, making my hips rock into the following blows.
He hit me hard, because he knew that I could not only take it, but I ached for it. The insanity built, and each time his hand came down across my backside, I melted into a mess of husky moans and whimpers.
Good thing he didn’t have me count each spank, as he sometimes did. I could barely speak, let alone focus enough to keep track of each strike. I was too drunk on the pain, on the pleasure, and most of all, on Belial’s intense focus on my ass cheeks.
Another delicious curse fell from him as he crouched, close enough that his harsh breaths fanned my burning flesh, making me prickle like a freshly plucked Christmas turkey.
“Bleeding Hells, you’re beautiful. There’s no color I love on you more than the hue your skin turns beneath my ministrations. ”
His rough timbre oozed with adoration and love, while the next surprise smack to my ass contained no such softness. My mouth opened on a gulp, sucking down air like a fish out of water. Tears welled in my eyes, the pain and bliss of it all so overwhelming, every nerve in my body was on fire.
“If it’s too much, you know what to say,” he teased.
It was too much, and that was the sweet spot. I licked my lips and sputtered, “Is that all you got?”
You had to have the biggest nads known to man or be out of your goddamn mind to taunt the Lord of Bones, especially while you were buck-ass naked and held down at his complete and utter mercy. The demon rarely had any to speak of.
“If I wasn’t so fond of your luscious skin, I’d flay you down to the bone, you audacious little slut.”
A rebuttal blazed in my throat. I opened my mouth to launch it, but a scream took its place instead, as he brought his hand down on my already sensitive backside.
He’d been holding back before.
I bucked against the stone. It was no longer cold. Everything was on fire. My flesh, my leaking core, my brain, my bones, my everything.
“Release her.” The manner in which he spoke to the skeletons had my blood crystalizing. He never adopted such a cruel mien with me, but it was a reminder that he was capable of it. All this pain, it was just a part of our game.
Once upon a time, he’d really been that harsh to me; I was happy to have won his heart. Times like these though, I loved seeing glimpses of that villainous demon lord that lurked not so deep beneath his mutilated skin.
The hands released me. They’d held me hard enough to leave impressions of their bones in my wrists and ankles. I tried to sit up, but the abused flesh of my asscheeks wouldn’t allow it. I opted to roll off the sarcophagus and onto the ground instead.
“Can’t stand?”
I shook my head, blinking up at the demon through my scattered hair and bits of ash.
“Then crawl.”
“What?”
“You fucking heard me. Crawl to your Lord.”
With a hard swallow, I hoisted myself onto my hands and knees and crawled through the ash toward the demon, leaving tracks behind me.
I could feel dozens of eyes on me. We weren’t alone.
Who knew what kind of horrible creatures were spying on us, watching their queen be humiliated before their Lord.
I was eating up every depraved second of it.
Once I reached his feet, he crouched down and pet my hair, as if to reward a dog for its obedient behavior. “That’s my good fucking girl. Now kiss my boot.” His mouth curved at the corner. “For old times’ sake.”
I did as he commanded, pressing my lips to the toe of his ashy boot. It smelled of fresh mud and leather. It should have been a turnoff. Instead, it had the opposite reaction. I was more turned on than ever.
“Very good, Rayven. Blood and darkness, you’re so beautiful. Now let’s go home. We have a Christmas Ball to prepare for.”