28
“Take me to my room,” I whisper to Darya as we return to the tower.
“I’ve fulfilled my part of the bargain. You made the decision. You’ll sleep in my room.”
I stare ahead with empty eyes, nodding slowly. I make my way to the marble balcony, gripping the stone railing tightly. I look towards the distant mountains, but all I see is an apple-colored gaze.
They killed him. Lavian killed Mathys.
I can’t escape. I’d be going from one monster to another.
I massage my neck, starting to suffocate. Panic grips me, and my vision blurs.
Where could I even go? I thought they weren’t like this. I thought they were good.
I hear soft footsteps behind me, and Darya presses against my back, placing his hands on mine, enclosing me in his muscular arms.
“Every decision has its price, my little champion,” he murmurs softly, burying his nose in my neck, inhaling my scent.
How could I have been such a fucking idiot?
Again. Lavian almost killed me, thinking I had demon blood.
Why didn’t I put the pieces together? Why did I think Mathys could survive?
Darya said I could decide whether we left him or took him to Filizi.
I should have listened to his words. He didn’t say I could save a child’s life by leaving him; that was just my own assumption.
Even so, this is just cruel.
“You knew what would happen,” I whisper softly, slowly turning to look him in the eye. He still holds me captive.
“How could you do this?”
“I’m a monster,” Darya says, smoothing a lock of hair behind my ear. “But I’m not the only one.”
“Did you sacrifice him to show that even the herebias are bad?”
“In time, you’ll learn that, in war, a sacrifice can serve a greater purpose.”
I snort, but there is hardly any strength in it.
Mathys.
“Come, let’s go to bed.”
I just blink, but I find myself allowing Darya to lead me there, letting him crawl under the blankets with me.
“If you are a king,” Darya begins, while his thumb caresses my hip, “your decisions carry even more weight. Though I think you already realize that. If I didn’t bring every demon-blooded child from your world, the angels wouldn’t give them a chance to survive.”
I clutch the blanket as I focus on Darya’s steadily rising chest.
The anger. I have to cling to the anger, but it won’t come now. I just want to forget, that I was deceived. That there’s nowhere to go, that no one will save me, that I have to stay here with demons. I don’t want to accept it. But for one night… just one night, I want to forget.
“Give me your blood!” I whisper, Darya’s fingers tightening. “You said anytime I wanted.”
Just one fucking night. And then I’ll think. I’ll make plans. But right now, I can’t bear it. I need my medicine, or Darya’s blood, or anything.
“I have to go to the ritual,” Darya says. “With my blood, you’d be so excited you might throw yourself off the tower.”
I snort. It wouldn’t be such a big problem.
Darya’s hand slides to my side, his finger tilting my chin so I meet his eyes.
“I won’t let you die, Kindra.”
“I know.” I nod. “Because then there’d be no one to open the gate for you.”
People only need me because they want to use me. The angels would want the exact same thing.
Darya’s eyes darken, and he nods slowly, his gaze softly running over my body.
So, I’m only useful to him to open that door, and as someone to fuck.
Frankly, I don’t give a shit anymore.
“Then take me with you,” I say, looking into his eyes again. “Give me your blood and take me with you to the ritual.”
Darya’s lips curl into a wicked smile, his sharp fangs tearing through his skin. But before offering his arm to me, he asks:
“Why do you need my blood, little champion?”
I gaze at the red fluid, and the memory of its taste makes my mouth water.
“Distraction,” I mutter, and Darya chuckles.
He extends his arm towards me, and as I press my lips against his skin, he pulls me closer to whisper in my ear.
“You have no idea how good I am at distractions, Kindra.”
Maybe I should stop here. Maybe tomorrow I’ll realize what a mistake I’ve made, but not now. Right now, I’m just enjoying how each drop of Darya’s blood eases the pain in my chest. Now, I’m just relishing moaning from the taste of his blood, how I become wet from the sensation.
Darya pulls his wrist away from me, and I growl nervously.
“You’ll get it hourly to avoid overdosing on it,” he says, quickly burying me under him and positioning himself between my legs.
I tingle as Darya looks down at me from above, his blood coursing through me with such warmth that every part of me desires him.
The demon gazes between my thighs, at the part of me that is pulsing with sweet pain. His nostrils flare.
“You know,” he whispers, “I can always feel how wet you get. How you want me.”
His words only inflame me further.
“You can never hide it from me,” he growls, “but I’ve never… felt it like this before.”
Something in the back of my mind screams that I shouldn’t allow this, but I suppress it. I just want Darya, I just want…
As if hearing my thoughts he whispers, “Distraction.” Exactly. “I can give you that.”
The demon slides down slowly, his mouth stopping at my chest, sucking on the hard nipple through the fabric, making me moan softly.
Despite how much I ache, I won’t beg.
Darya laughs, his claws gently digging into my hips but not hurting.
“If you don’t moan louder, unfortunately, I can’t go lower.”
I look at him. Silver streaks in his eyes glow so brightly they almost blind me. He sucks my nipple again and gently bites, and I scream. The pain is so sweet I see stars, and the area between my legs swells so much I can’t take it anymore.
“Please!”
Darya laughs with satisfaction, slowly moving downward. He lifts my skirt, slicing with his claws down to my navel. He presses his nose against my underwear and takes a deep breath.
With one hand under the torn fabric, he reaches for my exposed breast and gently takes it in his hand.
I moan because that’s all I can do.
“Lotte, look at me.”
I can barely breathe, but I comply, and I almost come at the sight of the Demon King between my legs, his nose gently touching my underwear.
“Good girl,” he purrs. I love how he talks to me. “Look into my eyes as I taste you for the first time.”
Every part of me trembles as Darya runs his thumb along my nipple and tears my thong with his other claw. His tongue slowly licks from bottom to top, all the while maintaining eye contact.
I sigh and curse in Swedish. The feeling is so overwhelming that I start moving, trying to get closer to him. But Darya presses my hips down.
“Stay still while I lick you until you come in my mouth.”
I don’t resist, but I can barely hold on. Darya’s tongue reaches my clit, and a tear rolls down my cheek as he softly licks against the swelling. He suddenly grasps it with his lips, and I shiver, but his hand on my breast tightens.
“I love it,” he whispers on the sensitive skin. “I don’t love many things, but I love your taste.”
And thank God I don’t have to beg again because his mouth is in the right place, devouring me. I moan, clutching the blanket as Darya’s tongue and mouth wreck me.
“Look at me,” he instructs again, and I gaze down as I pant, struggling to catch my breath.
Darya’s tongue has lengthened, becoming black and forked. His eyes are also black, with stripe tattoos emerging from them and running down to his neck.
The demon doesn’t let fear touch me and, never taking his eyes off mine, his long, black tongue slips inside me, while his mouth kisses my clit. First gently, erotic. Then fast, devouring.
He moans as if he truly loves what he swallows, and I lose complete control. I don’t know who I am anymore, why I’m here. I just scream and moan his name as my swollen core drips with pleasure, and I ache for more, more, more. Darya nods approvingly with each outburst.
I press my hips closer, then closer still, wanting more, and when he takes my nipple between his fingers, and his tongue moves inside me, his groans of pleasure cause me to lose myself.
The orgasm spreads through me, enveloping me in darkness. I scream Darya’s name, and he wickedly chuckles, but doesn’t stop. His tongue continues to circle inside me, guiding me through the aftershocks, and I release the blanket, completely undone.
His tongue withdraws, breathing a soft kiss on the shattered part of me, causing me to shiver. He speaks to me, but doesn’t look at me, which somehow makes it more erotic.
“I could get used to this taste,” he whispers, then looks at me.
My thoughts start racing again, and I blink as the picture clears, realizing what I’ve done.
Not yet. I don’t want to wake up yet.
“Give me your blood,” I whisper.
Darya doesn’t hesitate; he tears open his wrist, drinks his blood, then presses his lips to mine.
I growl as it flows in me again. As if the orgasm meant nothing, desire floods back, and I pull myself against his broad shoulders.
His kiss isn’t gentle; it’s forceful. He presses his lenght against me through his thin trousers, and I moan.
His hips start moving, and despite feeling broken moments ago, I move with him. He doesn’t release my mouth but he whispers in a language I don’t understand while his trousers ruthlessly graze against me. The warmth turns into heat as pleasure sweeps me back towards another orgasm.
“Say my name,” Darya whispers, and I comply, collapsing.
He kisses me gently, and I would undo his trousers because it’s still not enough, but he pushes my hand away.
I look at him in confusion.
“We need to go. The ritual is starting.”
“I don’t give a shit,” slips out of me, making Darya laugh.
“Don’t worry, little champion,” he says, lifting me from the ground.
He throws a long white dress at me as he spreads his wings. He takes my arm and whispers in my ear. “I’m not done with you yet.”