Chapter 19 #3
He gripped her hair and tugged her closer as he bent forward so his lips were close to her ear.
“Don’t move, don’t respond. While my cock is in your mouth, you will feel nothing.
No fear, no terror. You will be blank. When it comes out, your fear shall return stronger than it is now.
Put those incisors away and watch your teeth.
Remember.” His mouth grazed her ear, his voice low. “You asked for this, Aryana.”
The din of the throng no doubt drowned out his words for anyone nearby.
He flicked his tongue over her cheek before straightening. “Your fear tastes exquisite,” he declared, drawing hooting and hollering from those watching.
That glowing gaze locked with hers. “Open your mouth.”
Tears fell from her chin onto the ground, but she had no choice but to obey.
He drew back only slightly, splitting open his trousers.
Aryana’s incisors retracted right before his cock slipped between her lips.
In an instant, the fear fled. It was almost a relief.
His length slid against her tongue and it twitched.
His fingers twined deeper into her hair, taking control of the movement as his hips moved with small thrusts.
His length twitched again and again, hardening inside of her.
Emotionally, Aryana felt nothing. The crowd had gone silent, not expecting this—this sexual display from their king. Dominating the little vampire princess in a new way. A way that wasn’t grotesquely violent, but strangely just as morbidly satisfying to those observing.
Zarathos’s scent drifted up to her. He was aroused and… angry. His fingers in her hair held her in a manner that allowed only him to control their movements. As he moved in and out, his breaths quickened, and a growl escaped. His grip guided her head in time with his thrusts.
“Tighter,” he snarled. And in obedience, she clamped her lips harder around his cock.
The crowd erupted, cheering loud and wild, reveling in the unexpected spectacle laid before them.
She heard his heart rate pick up, while hers calmed. While hers settled into a steady numbness. And she realized—he expected his passion, his scent, and heartbeat to become dominant to the surrounding demons, where hers would become nonexistent, which was why…
Why?
Why had he told her to be emotionless? Was it really because he didn’t want her to hate it?
If anything, it was a risk. If he assumed that those nearby might be too distracted to notice, that may very well be false. What did he get out of not making this as traumatizing as possible? What he’d said was true. She had already given him permission to do this.
His cock glided past her tightening lips. He thrust even harder, and it hit the back of her throat. Pain speared down her esophagus.
She gagged, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.
“Take it, little vampress.” Zarathos’s voice was as black as midnight.
She did take it. The ache easing, her gag reflex getting used to having his cock pressing so far into her throat. Her lack of emotion made her curious. Even powerful. She felt nothing, but he—she moved her tongue, caressing his length.
The rhythm interrupted only briefly, another low growl issuing forth from him. She tightened her lips and this time, she sucked.
“Shit.” The word expelled from him in a single breath, and her sense of power grew.
It was a dead sense. Her emotions were a blank slate, but there was some heady knowledge spreading through her that this was her one chance to get back at him.
To exert some power over him, even as he debased her before his entire kingdom.
Her incisors slid out. He hadn’t said how long she needed to keep them in.
All it took was the slightest nick on his next thrust, and her venom leaked into him, his blood dripping onto her tongue. Oh, gods. She’d forgotten how exquisite he tasted.
Zarathos inhaled, but didn’t retract. His hold tightened on her hair.
Upon the next thrust, she drew a sliver of blood from his small cut, swallowing it. Her body flooded with heat. It radiated through her, burning her, dropping to her core. Gods. Gods, he taste so good. Hell, yes. Hell, yes.
Zarathos’s breaths became erratic. She gripped his ass, not wanting him to pull away.
The Bloodbound mark on her thigh tingled, the exquisite burning ached through her breasts and her lower abdomen, her core pulsing relentlessly.
A wetness leaked out between her thighs.
Whatever potion she had taken, it wasn’t strong enough to fight this.
To fight the effects of his blood on her and her venom on him.
Zarathos let out a roar, sinking down, and a fierce surge of satisfaction shot through her. He had forced her to kneel, but she would bring him to his knees with pure, undeniable pleasure.
Another roar burst from his lips and his cum released into her, sliding hot and slick down her throat. Aryana swallowed it. She had no other choice, but she didn’t release him. She craved it. She wanted more of his blood and cum inside of her.
Zarathos snarled in anger, and a sharp pain tore through her as his claws raked across her bare back. He yanked her head away, forcing her to break contact. He tossed her from him with a huge thrust, flinging her out into the middle of the arena.
Everything happened so quickly that when she landed bleeding in the dirt, she had to wait until the world stopped spinning.
The potion had cleared out of her brain with Zarathos’s blood.
When she glanced at him, his cock was no longer visible and he glared at her with a deadly malice, his hands clenching and unclenching.
His wings spread out from him, making him resemble a dark angel of vengeance.
But she’d learned enough of his expressions in the short time they’d been together that she noted something else sparking behind his gaze.
Fear.
Then, the cold realization hit her. She’d ruined everything. He was supposed to be dominating her, not the other way around.
Shit. Had she broken the bargain? Was she about to die?
He turned to the other champions, the crowd hanging on their every breath with a tense, hungry silence as they devoured the scene before them.
“She’s all yours.” With those emotionless words, he stepped back, moving toward the barred waiting area.
Aryana’s heart plunged into her stomach. He’d drawn her blood. He’d drawn her blood in front of an entire arena of demons. And he’d granted them permission to do what they wanted to her.
Forget the bargain. She was dead.
Zarathos was going to let her die here, after all.
The champions didn’t wait. Leaving their platforms, they closed in swiftly. The space around her seemed to shrink, the crowds clamor muffling to a distant roar. Her eyes darted from one champion to the next. They’d tussle over her, rip her limb from limb.
Fight. It was her only option. She could run.
But where? There was nowhere to flee. She stood up, blood from Zarathos’s scratches trickling down her spine.
A gasp ripped from her lungs when a claw latched onto her ankle, pulling her feet out from under her.
She landed face first on the ground, her heart pounding. Snarls echoed around her.
This was it.
“Master!” The name burst from her in a rush of panic. “Master, please! Help me! I beg you.” Her desperation would drive the demons into a frenzy.
Between the legs of a bloodthirsty figure looming over her, she saw Zarathos pause and turn.
“I beg of you,” she gasped, actual tears stinging her eyes. “Please, please.”
He didn’t move. It was too late. He wasn’t going to intervene.
More hands descended on her. She tried to strike out, to fight them off, but there were far too many snaking toward her, yanking her back down. They pinned her against the rough ground, dirt filling her mouth.
“Hold, my subjects. Do not attack.”
The hands paused.
Several released her. Aryana didn’t dare move. Zarathos stood a short distance behind the gathered demons.
“You can’t retract your words,” growled the werewolf, Dravek, his grip tight around her leg. He glared at Aryana with a vengeful fury that would only be satisfied by ending her, violently and without mercy. “You said we could have her.”
“I am still your king.” Zarathos’s icy voice held a threat so deep it made her shiver. “She belongs to me. You will do as I command.”
“The hell I will.” He sank his teeth into Aryana’s leg. The pain seared through her and she cried out.
Zarathos’s wings lifted him up, and he surged forward, grasping the demon by the neck. He hoisted him, and with a swipe of his claws, opened his throat. The demon shook as he struggled for breath and he was flung to the ground.
Zarathos’s lip curled. “Look at that, my subjects. I have provided you with a substitute.”
Without giving him another chance to rescind his order, the other demons descended on the werewolf. His gurgling scream made the crowd go wild.
Zarathos turned to Aryana, his expression hard, but… gods, was that relief she saw reflected there? Somehow, the situation had been saved.
He gripped her chains, and she started to rise.
“Stay down.” He gave her a forceful shove. That was right, this wasn’t over yet.
And so she didn’t say anything as he hauled her along the ground, the stone underneath scraping against her body until they returned to the barred waiting area.
The smell of blood and death was thick in her nostrils until the moment Zarathos slammed the bars shut.
He jerked on a lever and a rock wall crashed over the bars, giving them some privacy.
Zarathos leaned against it, his breaths heavy.
He reached a trembling, scarlet covered hand into his pocket and pulled out his clear potion.
Unstopping the vial, he quickly downed the contents.
Aryana held her leg, attempting to ignore the pain and staunch the bleeding. “I didn’t realize things would get so carried away—”
He threw the vial against the wall, shattering it into a thousand tiny shards. “What in the hell did you think you were doing?” His teeth flashed in the low lit room. “I try to make things a little less traumatizing for you, and you suppose that means we should turn it into pleasure hour?”
Damn it. He was right.
What was it about the demon arch king? Something about him unraveled her, making her lose all sense of control.
“I—I—have no excuse.”
“You want to know the most important rule concerning the Demon Trials? Here is the only rule that matters. Play your part or die. Don’t you ever, ever draw my blood in public again. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He reached for a second lever and pressed it, causing a section of floor to drop out of the middle of their enclosure. “Go back to your prison, Aryana. I will see you soon.”