But Selma had other plans. She narrowed her eyes, shifting the expression on her pale face from pleading to feral.
Faster than he would have thought a human of her stature could move, she launched to her feet, staggering on the plush mattress, and then threw herself at him. He managed to catch her just as she pressed her lips urgently against his, her tongue demanding access with soft, but persistent strokes.
Kain moaned when her nails scratched at his nape, inadvertently allowing her to deepen the kiss until all he could sense was the soft warmth of her mouth, the taste of her tongue, and the sensation of her slight body pressing against his. His hands found the swell of her backside—and shortly after, her jeans' waistband, which he shredded without effort.
He tore the maimed pants and underwear off her legs, never breaking away from her desperate kiss, then grabbed her sweatshirt and bra in two handfuls and ripped, wanting nothing but to feel her—all of her—naked against his searching palms.
Only when his fingers brushed over one of the many cuts on her skin did he manage to pull free of her once more, pushing her down on the mattress with a growl.
“Stay!” he snarled, putting his full authority behind the command when she made a move to launch herself at him again.
Selma growled in response, baring her blunt human teeth and looking so much like a feral kitten he couldn’t contain a rumble of amusement.
“Stay,” he repeated, softer but no less firmly this time.
She obeyed, remaining propped on her hands on the bed, eyes glued to his every move.
In turn, he did his best not to look at her as he shrugged out of his leather coat and carefully sat down at the foot of the bed, knowing he wouldn’t have the strength to withstand seeing her sprawled out naked for him.
Selma crawled into his lap the moment he sat down, rubbing up against him like a cat in heat.
“Please,” she rasped.
“I know,” he mumbled, letting his hands find her soft skin. His cock spasmed achingly, trying hard to break through its confines.
Kain held his breath and reached inside for the part of his magic he so rarely used. It welled much more easily from his inner core than he’d expected, flooding through his hands and into the girl, searching for the damages she’d sustained.
There were many, and not all of them as superficial as he’d thought upon first inspecting her. His anger welled, dampening his desire, and he used it to focus his magic.
Healing was not something that came naturally to demons, but as a Lord he had more than enough power to mend the Breeder’s flesh and soothe her deep bruises.
Only when not a single scrape remained on her pale skin did Kain finally draw in a deep breath, his eyes fluttering open as her rich scent filled his nostrils. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, her forced lust so strong now there was barely anything left of her true nature. Postponing the inevitable any longer would be cruel.
It was time.
15
Kain
The Breeder was soft and smooth under his hands as he eased her off his lap and down on her back against his sheets.
It seemed either the healing had gentled her, or she understood that he was finally about to give her what she’d been begging for, because she lay down obediently despite her panting breaths and the still all-consuming scent of her heat.
Kain brushed his palms up her stomach, frowning at how thin she was. His instincts, already on a knife’s edge, snarled at a precious Breeder having been left malnourished, but the impulse to feed and bathe the dirty little thing was quickly overridden when she whimpered at his touch and spread her thighs for him.
The smell of her heat hit him full-force as she displayed her sopping cunt, the dark hair covering her vulva matted with the liquid proof of her desire.
Black dots danced at the edges of his vision as he fell to his knees on the floor, grabbing her around the hips and yanking her to the edge of the bed in one move.
Kain brushed over her mons, shuddered with longing at the gentle scratch of her pubic hair against his palm, and finally parted her soft flesh to inspect her offering.
Selma whimpered and tensed in response, arching her hips in a plea for relief.
Silver shimmered between her parted lips, encircling her engorged clitoris in a band of inscribed metal. Her Breeder’s Ring—the tool used by Procurers to force Breeders into acceptance of their new status. One pinch on the magic-infused little trinket and the girl would plead with her captors for release, willingly parting her thighs for the demons she feared.
He growled at the look of it wound much too tight around her most tender spot and knew she’d be in pain from how carelessly the demoness had twisted it. Unthinking, he leaned in and brushed a soft kiss to her throbbing clitoris, yearning to soothe her the only way he knew how.
The second his lips connected with her swollen flesh, the Breeder turned wild underneath him.
