How to Kill an Incubus: A Rae Erickson Story Page 20
“Get on the table.”
I nearly asked him to repeat himself because I couldn’t have heard what I…
“I said, get on the fucking table!” he impatiently repeated, releasing me and urging me toward the wooden table with a hand on my back.
Despite myself, I was getting heavily turned on by his sharp commands, as stupid as that sounded. Lowering my ass onto the edge of the table with my back to our audience, I gave him a snarky questioning look, which most probably came off as rude. His beautiful eyes narrowed as he stood before me.
“Lie down,” he instructed, folding his arms across his broad chest.
On the table? I thought, glancing over my shoulder at the plates of food.
The audience stopped all manner of fornication and their eyes were firmly trained on me. I shivered. I felt so uncomfortable it almost felt physically painful.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Andrei’s low menacing tone was what pushed me to finally obey him and lie flat on my back. Selene was sitting on a chair to my left and our eyes met. She wasn’t even hiding how much she wanted to fuck me and I wondered, not for the first time, if I really was demon catnip.
Andrei’s hands were on my thighs as he spread my legs, and a blast of air hit my throbbing center. I made my first involuntary response—a whimper—in his presence then and instantly regretted it.
His hand came down against my pussy, catching my swollen clit. Biting my lower lip, I smothered a cry.
“Quiet. You’re not receiving any pleasure.” He ran a finger up my center and I quashed the moan that desperately wanted to come out. “Hands above your head… on the table.”
Without hesitation, I did as he asked. My hands hit a plate somewhere above my head and it was instantly removed.
“You can look but you cannot touch,” Andrei was saying, but it wasn’t directed at me. “She is mine. If any of you doubt that, try to lay a finger on her.”
Chairs scraped along the floor as the demons stood. This was probably my cue to sit up and tell Andrei where the hell to get off. But my pathetic little mind zoned in on the “She is mine.” and wouldn’t let me move.
So I lay there like a body on an autopsy table, on display for a small crowd of incubi to… to goddamn inspect. Nothing about this scenario made any sense, except that I was positive that Andrei was trying to prove a point. To me, or to his followers? I had no idea.
But that didn’t calm my wariness when a bunch of eyes strained to get a peek at me. Naked and throbbing from Andrei’s pussy-lashing, I couldn’t stop the heat staining my cheeks. My entire body felt like it was in flames from being in such close proximity to these supernatural creatures. I watched them walk around the ridiculously long table, examining every inch of my body at every angle. My hairs stood on end when I felt eyes on my opening. My first instinct was to slam my thighs together. But a voice in my head told me that these creatures could look all they want, Andrei would rip apart any of them who would dare to touch me.
And that was what kept me from seriously hyperventilating.
“You can feel how much she likes sex,” someone commented, as if I wasn’t in the room. “How lucky the king was to have found a responsive mortal. What I wouldn’t give to have one at my beck and call, to fuck for the hell of it and not for sustenance.”
“Would you bond yourself to a human?” another voice asked.
“Never. What would be the point? They would only die in a few years.”
“Then you take another. It would be like trading up for a newer model.”
Selene’s face came into view. Her stare was both longing and disdainful. God, if I ever got the opportunity, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. She freaked me out by simply being in my vicinity.
Andrei barked out a command in a language I didn’t know and all movement around me ceased. Chairs were pushed back in and I realized that he’d instructed everyone to sit back down. My sigh of relief morphed into a squeal, however, when he dragged me down the table until my ass was just on the edge.
“Shut the fuck up,” he roared, his palm connecting with my aching vagina once again. My entire body jolted from the sting but my eyes were locked with Andrei’s. “This is for my pleasure alone. You are not going to come,” he said in a hoarse voice, simultaneously releasing his erection from his pants. “Got me? You… won’t… come.”
I was flat on my back so I couldn’t really see his hard-on, but I knew that if I could, I’d disintegrate on the spot and disobey him. So I nodded imperceptibly, receiving another slap that further battered my poor distended clitoris.
“Say the words,” he commanded, looming over me.
“I won’t come.” I probably wouldn’t be able to, what with the thirty pairs of eyes on us.
Don’t lie, Rae, the voice in my head scoffed. You’ve wondered what it would be like to fuck in front of an audience. Like Roan and Nina.
“Good.”
He gripped my hips and I felt him at my entrance, just the slick touch of his cock’s broad head. And then he was inside me in one merciless thrust. He hadn’t bothered to check my readiness, but then he had probably seen it. I was wet, so wet for him that I was worried I was sick in the head—because what sane person could get turned on by this whole scenario?
I was clearly insane… particularly when I noticed the questioning look in Andrei’s stormy eyes. As if he were asking me, “Do you want a taste of my darkness? Do you want me to show you what evil is in me, even when it comes to you? Do you want this, Rainelle?”
The look on my face must have given him an affirmative because Andrei’s eyes instantly hardened and he proceeded. I let out a small gasp of pain, my body trying to remember what his thick shaft felt like inside me… and failing. He was too big, or I was too swollen, but he wasn’t holding back at all.
“Don’t close your fucking eyes,” he growled, withdrawing and slamming back into me with a muffled shout. “Watch me fuck you.”
I opened them, wincing from both the brutality of his every invasion and the friction I was feeling between my back and the table. I couldn’t climax like this, couldn’t even begin to feel any pleasure. This… onslaught was solely for his enjoyment.
I could only lie there and accept each violent plunge of his member. My vagina was contracting around his cock with each thrust, squeezing the slick, hot member with all the strength it possessed. He pulled back, drove in, pulled back, drove back in. The force of his thrusts shook the table, the scraping of wood against the floor reverberating in the now silent room.
“Who do you…” Another thrust. “… belong to?” Andrei panted, his brow damp with sweat. He held himself inside me, his turgid member beating away in my channel. “Answer me, damn it!” He withdrew and ruthlessly pushed back in.
I cried out, the pain becoming an intense pleasure I hadn’t expected. “You!” I screamed, bathing in my own sweat. “I belong… to you!”
“Fucking right,” he barked, resuming his repeated, thorough pounding. “You are mine. Say… it.”
“I’m yours!” I screamed, feeling the rise of my explosion building up inside. “I’m yours.”
“Tell me you will never fuck around on me.” He slowly rotated his hips, his swollen shaft hitting me in all the right places that should have sent me over the edge. I was on the cusp of climax but, with great effort, I held on to it.
“I’ll never fuck around on you,” I wailed, the strength of keeping myself from coming taking too much from me.
“Are you sorry?” he demanded, his thrusts quickening again. Sweat glistened on his chest and strands of his loose long hair were clinging to his face and shoulders.
“Yes! Yes! I belong to you.”
“Argh, fuck,” he groaned, spilling himself inside me. I brought my legs up around his waist, keeping him there, as the heat of his seed poured into me.
Still buried inside, he slumped over me and the table groaned with the added weight. I held onto him, burying my nose in the da
mp crook of his neck. It was the only thing I had the strength to do.
Chapter 15
The room was modern, masculine, and intricately designed. It was like stepping out of the nineteenth century and back into modern civilization. Instead of the flagstone flooring, there was dark velvet carpeting. Instead of lanterns and torches, a tiered chandelier dangled from the plaster ceiling, spilling bright light in the room. A gigantic king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, covered in a sleek black comforter. Animal skin was strewn beneath the many pillows and a bar fridge sat on one side of the bed in lieu of a nightstand.
This was his bedroom.
“I hope you slept well, chérie,” Selene said gently, gesturing at the massive bed. “You must be extremely sore.”
Sore? Sore didn’t even come close to it.
“Fuck off,” I muttered in a voice hoarse from screaming.
As soon as the words left my mouth, she disappeared, and I was left alone in the vast room.
Every freaking part of my body ached. Then there was the fact that I hadn’t come when my body had been so viciously assaulted by that damn demon. I held him for the last time, I had to repeatedly tell myself, and it was a bittersweet affair. My mind was completely frazzled but one thing was painfully clear: I was a sick little fuck that secretly enjoyed being so viciously abused—and publicly, no less. I was turned on, and being so out of my comfort zone hadn’t even mattered in the end.
Andrei had made his point, though. I wasn’t going to confuse him for a mortal man ever again. No, what I was going to do was remember my father’s legacy and for what he’d given up his life.
I fuck, I kill, I dominate, I thought, remembering Andrei’s words and eyeing the bed warily.
Well, he didn’t have to tell me twice. Everything was crystal clear to me now. Boyfriend? What a fucking laugh! Boyfriends didn’t fuck about with stick-figure blondes and flaunt them in front of their girlfriends. Boyfriends didn’t treat their girlfriends like shit stains.
You can’t tame the devil. Didn’t someone somewhere say that?
The smartest thing to do would be to stay amiable and ensure that I got out of this place in one piece. No matter how much my blood boiled from the humiliation, acting out would only bring me another disciplinary sex, probably somewhere in the underworld the next time… or worse, permanent imprisonment in the castle’s dungeons. Now that I knew how little I meant to the damn prick—how I was just a convenient trophy—I wasn’t going to risk my life by attacking him and receiving the wrath of his minions.
I’m yours? I thought, snorting. You must be out of your fucking mind.
As soon as I got back to Paris, I was going to call Daniel. I had politely declined his invitation to hop on the Let’s-Kill-Lauren bandwagon and asked that he just take me under his wing. Self-preservation, that was what life was all about. The weak got the scraps, plus their asses got kicked. Meanwhile, the strong left the scraps and dished out said ass-kicking.
And I wasn’t a weakling.
But that state of mind was momentarily paused when a wave of familiar awareness washed over me and I sensed a demon in the room. My skin prickling gave way to downright queasiness and I honestly thought that I was turning inside out. My reaction had never been this bad before, even in the face of a demon horde.
“Why aren’t you in bed?”
I wished I could say that I didn’t find that voice familiar, but I did, and I hated myself even more for it. Taking quick, deep breaths, I turned around and saw him standing in a corner, still as sticky and disheveled as he’d been when Selene ushered me out the banqueting hall.
“Is that you?” I wheezed, slightly doubling over. “Are you doing this to me?”
The closer he got, the worse the pain became. I knew that it was all in my head, that I wasn’t really itching everywhere, nor was I actually feeling the overwhelming need to puke my spleen out—but it was pretty damn close to reality.
“I’m not cloaking myself at the moment, so you’re feeling my aura,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m stronger than whatever you’ve encountered before, so I affect you more.” His eyes closed briefly and the pain dissipated.
I could’ve collapsed in relief. I nearly let myself, if I wasn’t so wary of Andrei.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” he repeated impatiently, apparently done with his show-and-tell. He advanced, his hands behind his back.
I stood my ground, mentally begging my heart to stop running the Olympics without my permission. “Are you going to drag me out and have your friends fuck me, perhaps? That should really get the crowd going.”
His eyebrows creased into a deep frown. “What did you say?” He began to circle me.
He heard me. I knew he heard me, and he knew I knew.
“How do you feel?” He tugged at my loose hair. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt me but it was enough to piss me off.
“I feel like bowing to you, my lord.” Could I control the revulsion dripping from my voice? No. “I feel like you’ve enlightened me and I feel like thanking you profusely. I was blind, but now I see.”
His hand was around my neck in a flash, pressing the collar in my throat. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” he snarled in my ear, his chest pressed against my back.
“Either you kill me right now, or I find a way to kill you,” I whispered harshly. “But just know that I’m not going down without mutilating your lying, filthy dick.”
He let me go as if I burned him. “I can’t do this with you,” he murmured, and I just had to turn around.
He looked dejected and that baffled me. Gone was the antagonism on his face, and in its place was regret.
Then suddenly, Andrei’s hand shot out to gently grasp my hand… and my entire body enflamed with a different kind of awareness. His eyes were fixed on my upper arm, drawn to the already purpling mark his hand had left from earlier.
“Fucking hell,” he breathed, running the pads of his fingers down my bruised skin. “I did that to you. I hurt you.”
I pulled my arm away from him. “Don’t… touch… me!”
“Rae, please,” he said, his voice gruff. He grabbed me to him again, his grip decidedly tighter. “Please.”
His tone surprised me. He was beseeching me and it was confusing.
I did the one thing I shouldn’t have done in that moment and looked up into his eyes. They were bluer, moodier. And they were pleading.
“You made your point, Andrei,” I said slowly, my throat throbbing in pain with every syllable. “Now let me make mine.” I leaned in and steeled my heart. “I’m not a fucking toy you can own, use, and put on display to fuck. You’re full of shit, you know that? Fucking some skinny little thing and bringing me in to witness the aftermath? Fuck you!”
“You are not a toy,” he said, his thumbs rubbing the insides of my wrists, “and I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” I tried in vain to wrench my arm away. “Do you think I’m stupid? That that naked girl on your lap was a figment of my imagination?”
His eyes flashed a deep red. “Her?” He pulled me against him, our bare chests flush against each other. “There’s only you. I don’t need or want anyone else.”
“You must think I’m a gullible idiot!”
He released me and I backed away, the incensed look on his face enough of a warning to me. “No, you know what I am? An insanely jealous fucking wimp!” he snarled, as he violently swiped his hair off his face. “You know what I’ve been doing these past four days? Moping around this fucking place wondering if you’d act on your feelings for that little fucking hunter! Do you know what a pussy that makes me?”
It took me a long moment to even think straight. “What,” I began, “are you talking about?”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t feign innocence,” he snapped, his voice sarcastic. “The last time we were together and that fuck stopped by, you were wearing my ring and I felt it. I felt y
our attraction to him.”
Of all the things I’d ever expected him to say, that was definitely last on my list. I automatically glanced at the empty finger that was supposed to have his ring. Now, how am I supposed to remember that he’s an incubus when he said things like that?
“I know,” he said quietly, as if reading my mind. “I sound like a human. You don’t have to tell me how fucked-up that is. Believe me, I know.”
“You didn’t say anything,” I murmured, my mind going back to our fight after my foot massage. “Why didn’t you say anything? You were laughing, for Pete’s sake!”
His eyes softened. “Because jealousy was just a word in the fucking Oxford Dictionary before I met you.” He looked away. “This feeling… I’ve never felt it before.”
I thought about Lorenzo’s cousin, Paul, and Renée and Lorenzo’s attempt at hooking him up with me. Andrei had mentioned jealousy then, too. I had to call it bullshit. He knew exactly what the hell it meant and we hadn’t even known each other that long back then.
“But you weren’t attracted to him,” Andrei explained slowly, as if it were that obvious. He took an experimental step toward me, waiting to see if I’d back away. When I didn’t, he said, “It’s dangerous for someone like you to have so much power over someone like me.”
“Someone like me?”
“You might not be a hunter but you are a hunter’s daughter. And one day, you’ll want to learn the family business.”
“You’re such a fucking contradiction, Andrei. I said the exact same thing to you and you stormed off in a huff.”
“At that time, I took that to mean that you were eloping with the fucking hunter,” he countered, his face impassive. Then he emphatically put a fist to his chest. “This isn’t who I am. This…green-eyed mortal…” He wrinkled his face in disgust at the word. “… resorting to petty name-calling and senseless fucking retribution.”