She bit her lower lip. “I won’t use it.”
My jaw flexed. “Did I ask if you were going to use it?”
“No.” She was silent for a beat. “It’s Black Widow.”
“That’s right. Now, are you going to be a good girl for me and show me why you seem so resistant to lift your dress up higher?”
She shook her head.
Heaving a sigh, I rubbed my temple with my index finger. “I thought not. If you’re not going to respect me and do as I say…”
I didn’t finish my sentence. She could simmer in the suspense.
It had been some time since I’d fucked her in my more monstrous form. Once upon a time, I’d completely terrorized her as the monster my subjects referred to as theLord of Bones.
Lately, she was on much friendlier terms with that side of me—but mating her as the Lord of Bones was a rare occurrence. These days, I typically used the form for official business and formal engagements.
As she watched me shift, the Queen of the Underworld’s eyes rounded. My black pants stretched with my body, a couple of threads popping as the material reached its limit.
My lesser form was already imposing in height, but the Lord of Bones towered well over seven feet, more considering my massive horns. Even on my knees, we were nearly at eye level.
Her throat bobbed with a hard swallow as her eyes roved over my shirtless torso, my pale blue flesh smattered with ancient battle wounds and black necrosis-like blotches.
With a dark laugh, I reached beneath the skirt of her dress and trailed my hand up her leg. My curiosity piqued when I brushed over a strip of fabric around her thigh, and I shoved the material higher to reveal a garter belt I’d never seen before.
She must have commissioned the garter from my tailor. A red strip of satin fabric hugged her curvaceous thigh, decorated with a brocaded skull. The craftsmanship was beautifully elaborate, the skull clearly made after my likeness, complete with antlers that dripped delicate silver chains and garnet charms.
As impressive as the garter belt was, that wasn’t what captured my interest. Tucked into the belt was a dagger, sheathed in a gem-crusted scabbard.
Her hand shot out to grab the weapon.
I beat her to it.
Plucking the knife from its sheath, I held the blade up and turned it so the light gleamed off it menacingly.
The fact that she’d smuggled the knife on her person had my balls aching and my dick granite hard.
“Well, what do we have here?” I slid the dagger back into its sheath and held it upside down, wagging the hilt at her. “What exactly were you planning on doing withthis?"
Chapter Twelve
Rayven
I was prettysure I’d never been wetter in my life.
Things hadn’t exactly gone to plan though. I figured at least one of the items needed for the ritual would include something sexual. He’d alluded to it, after all.
What I hadn’t planned on was for him to shift into his larger form. Seeing the giant skull-headed monster had thrown me.
My plan was simple: play the part of the confused girl caught off guard by his advances, then boom, knife to his throat. I knew the threat and faux danger would drive him wild.
Too bad he discovered the blade before I had a chance to pull it on him.
“Tell me why you have this, Rayven.” The rumble of his voice sent shivers skittering down my spine.
A chill crept under my skin and sank down to my marrow at the way the blue flames in his sockets crackled.
Oof. Maybe this had been a bad plan after all.
