Belial's voice had my gaze jerking back to the bathroom door.
I swallowed hard when I saw him in the doorway with one arm stretched out, braced against the doorframe. “Come here.”
My feet were scrambling to obey before my brain fully caught up, and I followed him inside.
I’d been in here already, but the first time I’d been so stressed, I’d barely noticed the room. It was beautiful, with stone walls and plants and bone candelabras hanging from the ceiling. All the candles were lit, casting everything in a comforting, amber glow. Jars in varying colors, shapes, and sizes sat on a ledge built into the stone. If I had to guess, they were probably filled with salts and other things for the bath since they were within arm’s reach of the clawfoot tub.
I glanced back at Belial who watched me through the slits of his mask.
Fuck. I wanted to see his face so badly.What was he hiding?
“Sit,” he instructed, his voice clipped as he pointed to a stool beside the bath. “As beautiful as you look covered in blood, I’ll get you cleaned up first. Then I’ll send Holga for food.”
I blinked at him, sure I’d heard him wrong. “You’llget me cleaned up?”
"I told you to give all of yourself to me and that includes control, Rayven. Tonight you won't lift a finger."
I moved to sit down, watching him with curiosity as he leaned over the bath and turned the faucet on, hot steam filling the air.
Belial dumped a glob of purple soap—plum scented by its aroma and color—into the bath and bubbles exploded beneath the rush of water, quickly filling the tub.
He threw in a couple more handfuls of salts, and who knew what else, from the various jars on the ledge nearby. Soon the entire bathroom was smelling so sweet, my mouth began to water and my muscles twitched in excitement.
When the demon was satisfied with the bath, he strode over to my chair and dropped to his knees in front of me—kneeling.
My heart slammed into the roof of my mouth as I watched his shoulder muscles strain against his black shirt, his slender fingers working to underdo my bootlaces. His hand gently cupped my calf while his other pulled the boot off. He gently lowered my foot to the floor then went to work on the other one.
It was a tender moment. One that caught me completely off guard. He was sharp around the edges, and brutal at times, but it seemed he was capable of being soft too. There was so much beneath that mask that I wanted to see, that went deeper than flesh.
Belial was becoming a very big problem.
How the hell was I supposed to just walk away from him when he did things like this? When he made it so damn hard to get him out of my brain?
When he tossed my boots aside, I expected him to rise to his feet and leave me to bathe. Instead, his hand smoothed over my knee while gently pushing my legs apart.
I sucked in a breath when he brought the lips of his mask to inner thigh. The material was warm from his lips, but its touch sent a chill through my bones.
What I’d give to feel his bare lips on my skin…
I tried to pull away but his hands gripped me tight, holding me in place on the stool. “Stay still.”
“I should be clean before you touch me.”
"Let's get one thing straight. You'll get your bath. But you won't be leaving this room clean."
Before I could say anything else, he hauled me into his arms, held me over the bath, anddroppedme.
I fell into the tub with a splash, water and suds going everywhere. My head slipped beneath the surface, water gushing up my nose and making my sinuses burn. I fumbled, trying to get my bearings, and lurched up into a sitting position with a gasp. My hands gripped the edge of the tub, and I glared up at Belial who stood over me menacingly, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
He rolled his black sleeves up to his elbows, dark veins straining against pale flesh which was covered in various scars and ink from ancient tattoos so faded they were barely there. “You’re so fucking gorgeous when you struggle, little mortal.”
How was he so sexy, so mean, and why did it turn me onsomuch? It wasn’t fair. It didn’t make any sense. He was soft one moment, cruel the next. I found myself reeling from the whiplash, and burning for more.
Crouching, his hands gripped his knees as he got to my eye level. “You can use your safeword. Say black widow, and I take you back to the labyrinth.”
He was giving me another out, but by the hint of the smirk behind his mask, he knew I was too stubborn to take it.
“Fuck you.” Then, I spit in his face. He didn’t even bat an eye. The gob of salvia slid down the black mask and streaked down the lips. He touched the mouth of the mask and held his fingers up, watching the way they glistened with my spit.
