Last night was only supposed to be a brief reprieve from the terrifying world I was trapped in, the deadly maze I had to escape from. But it had turned into something much more.
Sitting up, I looked down at Belial’s sleeping form and watched him as he snored softly. Aside from his mask, he was completely naked—we both were—splayed out over the tousled black sheets. I could have stared at him forever, and I still would have been surprised by how goddamn beautiful he was. He looked like a dark angel with his sleek muscles encased in swathes of faded ink, scars, and the faintest smatter of dark hair.
My attention dropped to the appendage lying limp against his thigh. Electric sparks shot through my system, sinking straight to the place that throbbed from his abuse. As I expected, the silver cuff banding around the base of his shaft, along with the chain, had rubbed me raw. Every movement, no matter how small, was a stinging reminder of the night before.
I had a feeling walking around the labyrinth would be extra painful today. But I was sure he’d get a lot of satisfaction seeing me limp around the hedge maze, knowing that the only monster response for this ache was the one in his pants.
Smug bastard.
My heart clenched again, butterflies whirling in my tummy and turning to hornets at the thought of leaving him. More and more he was feeling likemysmug bastard, and it was becoming difficult to imagine telling him goodbye.
My gaze wandered back to his mask, and I tried for the millionth time to imagine the face beneath it. Why was he so secretive about what he looked like?
He knew I was aware of the scars, even if I didn’t know how bad they were. He had to know I didn’t care. A niggling feeling told me that maybe his reluctance had less to do with me and more to do with the scars beneath his surface. The ones I couldn’t see.
I wanted to respect that. But how was I supposed to entertain the possibility of giving more of myself to this demon when he wouldn’t even show me his face?
A thought bloomed in my mind, and I toyed with it for a moment. Debating. Weighing the consequences. Before I could write it off as a bad idea—which it was a bad idea, a very bad idea—my hand was reaching for Belial’s mask.
My fingers had barely brushed the edge of it at his jawline when his hand snapped up, seizing my wrist.
I yelped in surprise as he lurched up, and wrenched me close to his face, his gray eyes burning with rage.
He hadn’t been sleeping at all. He’d been faking it.
“Oh, you are introuble,” he seethed. “You better watch yourself. Do that one more time and you’ll be sorry.”
I tried to snatch his mask with my other hand and he caught that one too. “You’re playing with fire, mortal.”
“Good,” I huffed, trying to pull free from his hold, only to have him scoop me up into his lap. He was hard again, his dick jabbing into my ass. “Maybe I’ll burn to ash and be reincarnated as someone who actually gives a shit about your little threats. You don’t scare me.”
His chest rose and fell in a heavy rhythm. His fingers tightened like a vice around my wrist. I choked back a whine, refusing to show any pain, knowing he loved it when I did.
“If I hadn’t promised to return you to the labyrinth by the morning, I’d bend you over my knee and spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit until your next life.”
“Jokes on you,” I spat. “I already can’t sit because of your freakishly long dick.”
“I don’t remember you complaining about it last night.” His voice turned soft and sultry, and he fell back onto the pile of pillows, pulling me down with him.
“Belial I have to go,” I whined, weakly pushing against his chest, hoping he’d hold me tighter. He did.
“You don’t have to.” He said, his fingers running through my hair. “You can stay here a bit longer.”
“I only have until midnight. Then my time is up.” An icy chill rolled down my spine at the words, my impending fate looming overhead like a thundercloud. “Then I have to accept becoming the queen of the dead.”
“Haven’t you always felt more at home with the dead anyway? Surely you haven’t spent most of your life in cemeteries just to stick it to dead rich people.”
I blinked rapidly at the demon, not believing what he was saying. “Is this pro Lord of Bones propaganda I’m hearing? Or do I still have mud from the labyrinth clogging my ears?”
Belial rolled his eyes behind his mask. “Heismy Lord, Rayven.”
I shoved off his chest, breaking out of his arms and stumbling out of the bed. My legs were like jelly. They buckled and my hand whipped out to grab onto one of the bed posts.
Belial was on his feet and moving to catch me before I found purchase, but I snarled in his direction, hackles raised. “Don’t touch me!”
“What have I done now?” He threw his hands out to his sides. “Explain your emotions so I can understand.”
This was what I got for falling for a morally gray demon. He really didn’t get why I was pissed, and when I’d explain it was a crap shoot as to whether he’d care or not.
