RAYVEN
He wanted me to crawl.
Like a fucking dog. Like an animal. Like his plaything.
And I couldn’t be more turned on.
I was into some pretty kinky things, but Mark’s vanilla-ness had left me a bit starved in that area. So before I could fully process my options—not that I had a lot to choose from—I crawled on my hands and knees toward the demon perched on the side of the bed.
Everything about this moment teased and plucked at my senses, heightening my arousal. The sweltering warmth in the room that had Belial’s shirt sticking to his chest. The rattle of the chain dragged between my legs as I slowly knelt between his spread thighs. The way his lips parted through the mouth of his mask to praise me for being such a good girl for him.
He took the chain and unwound it from my neck before bending to take me by the waist and lift me onto his lap like I weighed nothing at all.
His storm gray eyes turned my entire body to liquid. I could barely think.
“Why do you wear a mask?” I sputtered, not sure what else to say. The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. His eyes narrowed and I whined when his fingertips bit into my hips.
“Is there an end to your constant barrage of questions, little human?”
“Yeah, when I start getting answers.” I studied him carefully, drinking in all the parts his disguise didn’t hide. His piercing eyes. His sharp jawline. His lips. There always seemed to be the ghost of a smirk tucked at the corner of them.
I raised my hand, bringing the tip of my index finger to his mouth.
He flinched—At least I think he did. The movement was so slight, I wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for the jingle of jewelry draped from his antlers. To my surprise, he didn’t move when the pad of my finger found the seam of his lips. I traced them, feeling some of the scars marring his flesh.
I resisted the compulsion to ask where he got them. What I couldn’t resist was the urge—the need—to see more of him. My fingers moved to curl under the edge of the mask, but before I could lift it off, he captured my wrist.
“Ow! Fuck. You’re hurting me!” I growled at him, trying to wrench my wrist from his bruising grasp. It was no use. I might as well have been wrestling King-Kong for how strong this guy was.
“Oh, little human,” he clicked his tongue in disapproval, his tone mocking. “We were off to such a good start. Now you’ve lost your privilege to touch me.” Both his hands clasped over mine in a suddenly sweet gesture, a stark contrast to the acid staining his voice.
He flipped me onto my back and pinned my wrists above my head with one hand. With the other, he reached for the manacles Holga moved to the nightstand. I bucked beneath him, my tongue going slack as his cock twitched against my belly. He seemed to like it when I struggled.
In a million years I’d never admit that I liked it too. Not that he needed my admission. By the cocky curve of his lips, he knew.
“Tell me to stop, and I won’t,” he muttered, his voice velvet-wrapped steel. “We’ll need a different word for you.”
“How about I just scream? Won’t you stop then?” I whispered, feeling my body start to quiver with excitement.
“Oh, sweet little mortal. That will only make me harder.”
“You’re a monster,” I breathed, more out of wonder than horror.
“Yeah. And monsters make you wet, don’t they?” He laughed at my wide-eyed expression and sat back to admire my body spread out before him when the cuffs were secured around my wrists. “So we’re going to come up with a new word for you to use if you want me to stop at any point.”
“Like what?” My heart flitted wildly in my chest.
“Black widow.”
I blinked. “Why black widow?”
His fingers drummed the chin of his mask in thought. “Female black widows are the most venomous. Seems fitting for you.”
“I didn’t think a demon would use a safe word.”
“And I didn’t think a young mortal woman would desecrate graves and steal from a primordial god of death. We’re both full of surprises.”
My breath hitched as his hand pressed against my navel then slipped to my waist. He looped the gown’s tie around his finger, playing with it at a torturously slow pace, drinking in my every reaction.
