Chapter 31 The Hunter Becomes the Hunted #2
She narrowed her gaze in suspicion, wondering why he had stopped.
Caspian licked his fingers and rubbed them gently over her body, his touch teasing and feather-light.
“I don’t want this to be over too quickly.” His smile was evil incarnate.
She gave a sharp intake of air.
His thumb grazed over her flesh, once, twice, and he slipped a finger in her. She squirmed and writhed under him. He slipped another finger in. He curled his fingers inside her, making a delectable come-hither motion that made her eyes fly wide.
She whispered his name.
He moved them inside her with brutal precision, curling, teasing, torturing.
She squirmed, and he held her firm.
He frowned above her and changed the angle and started ramming her with his fingers. He stared at her face with an almost frightening intensity, and went faster until she whimpered, her body tensing in places, pleasure climbing.
If he were about to stop again, she would never forgive him.
He bent and kissed her sex.
He stroked her with his tongue as he continued to ram his fingers inside her. She placed a hand atop his head, pressing his face into her, a silent demand for him not to stop. He obliged her and went faster.
He lapped at her with his tongue faster and faster, and rammed her with his fingers, until she tensed, and the earth shattered around her with the sheer force of her orgasm.
Her whole body trembled and jerked, and he still didn't stop as she twitched around him.
He gripped her hips and pressed his face to her and kept going as she came.
She felt his canines elongate and pierce her flesh.
There was a prick of pain as he bit her, and warmth and pleasure flooded her body from whatever was in his bite. Her eyes flew wide as he sucked on her bud of flesh and did something with his tongue. It felt impossibly good, and the feeling sent her higher.
His bite sent heat raging through her blood. She tensed up all over, pleasure climbing and reaching new heights.
He didn’t stop sucking, and she came again as he fed from her body. She rode the waves of pleasure until he stopped, withdrew, and then her body twitched and was finally still.
He licked her once and pressed his thumb against her to clot the wound. He murmured a word in the Godstongue, gently healing the small wound he had left behind. She touched herself, where he had bitten her was already crusted over with dried blood.
Gods. She didn’t know it could be like that.
A single drop of her blood lingered on his lip before he licked it away. The sight should have horrified her. Instead, it sent another pulse of heat through her.
He laid down next to her, and she realized she was breathing heavily, as though she had just run, even though she had done nothing.
Her heart pounded madly, and she had never felt more alive.
Her whole body felt liquid, like she had no bones at all and like she could slip into the mattress at any moment.
“I apologize,” Caspian murmured. “I got carried away in the moment.”
She glanced at him, a lazy smile on her face. “It’s alright.”
He gave her a knowing look and lay beside her for a few moments, holding her while she came back down to earth.
After a moment, he extricated himself from her embrace and rose to his feet.
She looked at him in surprise. “But what about you?” she said, rising to her knees before him.
“Another night,” he said firmly.
He was shirtless, his pants tight and straining with what was clearly interest. She rose to her feet, naked before him. A question in her eyes.
“Another night,” he repeated firmly and put his tunic back on.
Caspian left her standing there and gently closed the door.
She sat on the bed, her skin still humming from the aftermath of her pleasure.
Five minutes.
That’s how long she lasted before the ache of incompletion drove her to her feet.
Donning her nightgown and housecoat, she closed the door behind her and did the most reckless thing she had ever done.
She went hunting for a demon.
She found the black doors flanked by suits of armour, the ones Iago had warned her not to enter when she had first arrived. Without knocking, she turned the handle and slipped inside Caspian’s private quarters.
Behind the double doors, there was a small foyer with a pretty vase in the center holding a bouquet of black flowers, and two doors on either side.
She chose the left door on a whim and came to a sitting room. The chairs were massive, as if they were meant to accommodate a giant, not a man. She retreated and tried the other door.
The chamber beyond was midnight blue with tall windows and sweeping curtains offering a view of mountains set under a dusky sky.
Her demon sat on an enormous bed facing away from her, gazing at the windows, his broad shoulders slouched forward, painted blue in the soft evening light.
He looked like a Fallen angel, with his head bowed and the inky sweep of his hair.
He sniffed, turning.
He had smelled her from nearly ten feet away.
Dear gods.
He started at the sight of her.
“Elizabeth,” he said, sounding surprised.
She let confidence bloom in her chest and dropped her housecoat to the floor. With his eyes fixated on her, she undid her nightgown and let it fall to the floor too.
“We are not done, you and I,” she said tartly.
He came up to her. “You are not satisfied?” he said, his voice amused as he took a step closer.
“Not even close.”
Caspian kissed her softly, slowly, and then he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with passion and wild abandon. He guided her to his bed, and his eyes drank her in, like she was the most entrancing thing he had ever seen.
He stood shirtless before her. He held her gaze as he undid his pants and slipped them to the floor. She glanced down, and her breath caught. He was utterly massive, long and impossibly thick.
He stood still, waiting for her assessment.
She smiled, beckoning him with a crooked finger, a silent order.
Two long strides, and he had her in his arms. She sighed at the heat of him. His hardness pressed against her, and she kissed him deeper, desperate for more.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, her lips found his, and they kissed, unable to hold back for even a moment longer.
His fingers grazed her, and he groaned at what he found there.
She tenderly cupped his face and looked into his eyes of silver fire.
He rubbed himself teasingly against her entrance. She let out a low sound and squirmed closer to him.
“Is this what you want?” he said, rubbing himself over her.
She held his gaze. “It is.”
“Say please.”
She rolled her eyes. He couldn’t be serious.
“I will not.”
“Say…” He stroked himself over her again, slipping ever so slightly inside, then pulled out again. A tease. A torture. “Please.”
He rubbed himself over her again, and she let out a gasp, unable to keep it in.
“Please,” she said in an annoyed tone.
“Please who?”
She felt him. He was so close. Her body ached for him. She arched herself closer, but he pulled away, refusing her unless she gave in.
“Caspian, please,” she gasped, writhing her hips to try and accept him. He let her and slipped in slowly. Her eyes widened. He was thick, almost to the point of pain. He stretched her, filling her completely.
Her body wrapped around his tightly, and then he moved. And gods, he felt so perfect, like they were two pieces of a puzzle.
He was gentle and almost painfully slow, filling her whole and then pausing. He pushed against her, sheathing himself to the hilt, and moved back and forth, grinding against her. Then he slung her leg over his shoulder and started moving faster, and she lost all sight of reason.
Gods, he was big. She felt him against every bit of her.
“Caspian,” she pleaded. He went faster, and then just as she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he slowed down his rhythm until it was languid, teasing.
“More,” she pleaded.
Placing her other leg over his shoulder, he gripped her hips, pulling her against him and thrusting harder. He slammed against her. “Is this what you needed?”
“Yes,” she sighed, nails scoring his back.
He changed the angle, driving himself deeper. Harder.
She cried out as Caspian changed rhythm from slow and sweet to violent and rough. He gripped her hips, slamming her against him harder and faster, and just when she thought she couldn’t take it any more, he shuddered, his head falling back as he came.
She lay on his chest, sated.
On an impulse, she ran her fingers lightly over the hard planes of his chest, tracing lazy circles, feeling utterly boneless and strangely complete. His heartbeat gradually slowed under her ear, and she let the sound lull her into a peaceful sleep.
When dawn light crept through the windows, she smiled, reaching for him instinctively, but only cool sheets met her touch.
She sniffed, there was his lingering scent on the pillow—the smell of leather and woodsmoke—but the bed was empty.
He had gotten up and left in the middle of the night.