Claiming of a Sex Demon (4 page)

She stepped outside and the wind kicked up, swirling the
demon’s masculine scent all around her. Coupled with the warm, yeasty scent of
the baked goods he brought, she was overwhelmed with two kinds of hunger. She
avoided his gaze by turning to lock the door, happy that he wouldn’t be able to
read her reaction to his presence. Her fingers trembled as she worked the keys.

“Can I help you with that?” His low rasp held a trace of
amusement.

“Nope, I got it.” After locking the door, she took the bread
from him. But when she put it to her lips, she felt suddenly erotic knowing he
was watching her eat. She cast a glance up at him, and indeed, his gaze was
locked on tight.

“Do you mind?”

“I love the fire in you. You know it only stirs the beast in
me?” He smiled wider, and his dark hair and amber gaze made him look like a
tiger of a man, capable of pouncing at any moment. His tall, muscular body
walked beside her, an unavoidable and commanding sensual presence. He’d been
right when he called himself a sinner; he looked as if he was crafted to do
very naughty things. “You’re blushing. I promise the bread isn’t an
aphrodisiac.”

Em halted in her tracks. God, she was so damn gullible. For
all she knew, he’d drugged her the night before.

“Nope, it’s all you, baby.”

She glared at him, but all he did was smile in response.
God. The man smiled all the damn time.

“Does that gaze full of daggers mean you’re having regrets
about last night?” He winked, as if the fool already knew the answer, but
didn’t care.

They arrived at the clearing and Reza reached into the
basket hanging on his well-formed forearm. A picnic basket had never looked so
awkward, or so thrilling. A bright yellow linen floated in the wind just before
he laid it upon the ground and motioned for her to sit.

The lake looked perfect. Looking at it, calmness washed over
her, and Em sat upon the yellow cloth with a subtle smile tugging at her
cheeks. She tried to contain it so the brute wouldn’t be encouraged, but she
couldn’t help it.

“I have a confession.” His words were a low, sensual
promise, and Em was positive she didn’t want to hear what came next. “I watched
you that night at the lake.”

Her cheeks became flustered with heat. The man had watched
her undress. “How dare you!”

“Shameless sex demon.” He didn’t seem to have a care about
the outraged expression she’d directed at him. “If it makes you feel better, I
realized that night that you’re my lifemate.”

Her jaw dropped, but she forced it back in position to grit
a response at him. “That does not make me feel better.”

“Just a simple night spent floating in the icy lake left
such a smile of serenity and pleasure on your face. I realized then, that no
other smile could do for the rest of my life. Yours is the only one I want to
see. The most basic, raw things inspire happiness in you, and I love that. I
want to bring that same unbridled expression of pleasure to your face every
single night.”

“You’re a sex demon. Do you really have to use these lines
on women?”

For the first time, the smile left his handsome face. His
bright amber gaze twisted with flecks of brown like ash mixed with fire. He ran
a hand through his hair and she caught his jaw lock into place. He wanted to
say something, but was holding back. He’d said everything, what could he
possibly not want to say?

“I know I may just seem like a sex-obsessed ass, but there
is more to being an incubus than you understand. As a sex demon, I need sex to
survive.”

She laughed.

“No, it’s true. If we don’t reach climax often, our health
declines, we wither away. We can die from the withdrawal.” His serious
expression made Emmerie believe that he’d seen it happen before.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

A chuckle was his first response. “I sneak into your home in
the middle of night and pleasure a married woman. And you’re the one
apologizing?”

Heat crawled up her neck and she bunched her fists. “You’re
right. I rescind my apology.”

Almost as soon as the words escaped, he leaned over the
picnic basket, his lips silencing her. His tongue tasted her, but she bit down,
almost hard enough to draw blood.

“And here I thought you had plans to be a gentleman.”

“I’m a sex demon, not a saint.” His voice was dangerously
low, and Emmerie wondered why she didn’t bring her dagger. He may have brought
her the most earth-shattering climax of her life the night before, but that
didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. Actually, he was the most dangerous man she’d
ever met.

“Well, be respectful.”

“I am being respectful. I just proposed marriage to you for
hellplane sake!”

“What?” If she wasn’t already sitting, the words would have
knocked her on her butt.

“I just professed my love and called you my lifemate.”

“I’m married, and you professed no such thing!”

Reza looked into the distance and something like a growl
escaped his throat. “I just told you I want to make love to you for the rest of
my life and that I never want to see anything else for the rest of eternity
besides
your smile.”

“No, you told me that sex demons need frequent intercourse
to survive. And obviously you like the taste of forbidden fruit!”

“I’ll admit that I like the way you taste, Emmerie.” Reza’s
voice was a dangerous warning. “But I am not a desperate man.”

“Oh, how grand. We’re not even together and you’re already
threatening to leave me. I’m quite familiar with your popularity with the
ladies. I’ve witnessed as much when you were on your back in a town alley
during the young hours of morning. Now leave me alone. I’ll picnic by myself,
thank you.” She glared daggers at him since she didn’t actually have any steel
to threaten him with.

“I apologize if I’m not as poetic as the blacksmith. But I
meant every word that I said. I’ll wither away before I have another. There’s a
fire burning within you, and if you don’t set it free, it’ll set your skin
aflame from the inside. You were meant for me. When you realize it, you’ll find
me in town waiting for you.”

Soft lips kissed her cheek. As he departed, the scent of
warm skin and spicy clove hung in the air. The man smelled just as exotic and
delicious as he looked, but he’d left her shaken and confused.

Her stomach growled. Even through the sickness, she was
still hungry. Reaching into the picnic basket, her hand encountered the bright
blue wrapping paper. The gift. Curiosity drew her fingertips like a magnet and
she ripped away the wrapping. Her fingers found smooth blown glass and her
breath caught. A note peeked from the inside of the small, rectangular box.
Throw
away the spoon. If you dare.

The beautiful clear instrument was entwined with streams of
turquoise circling the blown-glass shaft. She blushed, but excitement coursed
through her. To own something so naughty was a thrill that sent a shiver down
her spine. What would it be like to be with a man who only seemed to think
about her pleasure all the time? Reza was dark and dangerous and unpredictable.

But the most startling thing of all was that with Reza, she
was either so mad or so hot for him, that her depression went into hiding. The
man she’d known for only a couple days looked deep into her soul and saw her
for what she truly was. Even if his said “love profession” wasn’t true, Emmerie
couldn’t help but feel tempted to leap off the cliff into sensual bliss with
Reza. And in the process, she might even find herself.

Emmerie had to get out of town. Pulling on her white cloak,
she whistled for her brother’s dapple gray stallion. In the Aerion realm, the
plane where she lived, all horses were supposed to live free. The name Aerion
itself was said to be named after a horse of the gods. Since she was human, she
didn’t believe in those myths, but liked the laws of her realm all the same.

Soon the stunning storm-cloud colored creature came
barreling toward her through the forest. Smiling, Em leapt onto the horse
gracefully and rode off in the direction of her husband’s destination. She had
to tell him of her actions. Lennox deserved better. After she confessed, he
would want to dissolve their marriage, and she would feel better for it. He was
a good man, but she could not be his wife when she barely knew herself.

The sound of her steed’s hooves on the ground was thunder
across the landscape. Tears leaked down her cheeks, whether from the wind of
speed or shame of her own actions, she wasn’t sure. She was a fool to want to
be free of such a perfect man.

By the time she reached the village, a whole day’s ride,
Emmerie was exhausted, both mentally and physically. She gripped the stallion’s
mane as the cobblestone streets of the small town greeted her. The sunset cast
an orange hue on the tiny bricks as the local inn came into view. She heaved a
breath, calming the nerves crawling over her skin.

Pulling back the hood of her cloak, Em entered the
establishment. The warmth of the pub on the bottom floor of the inn welcomed
her, as did several unsavory glances. The air around her was thick with the
scent of whiskymead, a fermented mixture of exotic wheats, leaving her nearly
intoxicated by the odor. A large fire crackled in the corner of the room, its
vibrant color instantly reminding her of Reza’s mesmerizing stare. Crowded
around the fire were several hulking patrons with colossal mugs of mead. Doing
her best not to acknowledge the ruffians, Emmerie approached the bar counter.

“Have you seen Lennox Aegros? He’s a blacksmith that’s been
in town.”

The bartender chewed on the gigantic smoke in his mouth, but
didn’t speak, only shook his head. Negative.

Suddenly, all the eyes on her back seemed unavoidable and
overwhelming. Her skin crawled at the attention directed on her. Thank God for
her cloak, for she felt naked under the scrutiny of all the men in the place.
Emmerie turned and walked as fast as she could from the establishment.

As soon as the door shut behind her, an unfamiliar voice
came from behind. “Haven’t seen you around these parts.”

“I’m departing.” Instead of looking back at the man, she
stepped forward to flee. Strong arms caught her by the shoulder and pulled her
back. Emmerie parted her lips to scream, but a grotesque fist closed over her
mouth, effectively smothering her cry. His acrid stench of whiskymead and sweat
overwhelmed her, seeping into her pores and crawling over her skin. The brute
hauled her into the alley while she flailed against his gigantic form. Her legs
dangled off the ground, fear shooting through her body like a thousand needles
stabbing her skin.

“Just my luck to find a traveling whore.” The whisper was a
sickening promise and bile escaped her throat into the man’s palm. “Ugh, you
bitch!”

He let go for just an instant and she dropped to the ground.
Emmerie pulled the tiny dagger from inside the folds of her cloak and lashed
out. It connected with flesh, but she didn’t take the time to find out where. She
tried to flee. Emmerie stumbled to the ground as her attacker’s strong grip
wrapped around her ankle like an iron shackle. He jerked her back toward him
and slapped her in the face. The force was a rock, shattering her cheek into
hot shards of pain, an explosion of agony that she’d never felt before. Desperate,
angry fingers clawed at her cloak and Emmerie sobbed.

A high-pitched shriek bellowed in the darkening alley, and
Em recognized the whinny of her brother’s horse. She turned around just in time
to see the gallant steed rear up and bring its hooves down on her attacker with
the force of a falling boulder. The beast of a man yelped from the pain and
released his hold on her. Emmerie jumped to her feet, her tears continuing to
flow as she climbed onto the horse. Immediately, her noble stallion sprang
forward and tore through the town the way they came. Homeward bound.

* * * *

When Emmerie never showed up the next day, Reza decided to
hell with waiting, he’d go to her. He’d botched the whole love profession thing
and made it sound more like sexual bondage than anything else.

Her house on the edge of town was dark. He walked to the
lake but she was nowhere in sight. Concern sent goose bumps down his skin and
Reza realized he’d never been so scared in his life. Where was she? She wasn’t
in town. She wasn’t in the forest. He’d die before he lost her. If she’d run,
he’d find her. He’d go to the ends of the earth, withering away alone if that’s
what it meant. His heart ached. He could have no other.

As he neared her house once more, the ground shook. The
thunder of an approaching horse caught his attention. Through the morning
sunrise he caught sight of a dapple steed, but didn’t see a rider, only a long,
dirty, white cloak.
Emmerie.
Reza raced toward the horse with his heart
in his throat. Emmerie was a collapsed mass of blonde hair and floating white
fabric. He wondered how she was even holding onto the white stallion bounding
toward him.

“Emmerie!” He was at her side in an instant and wrapped his
arms around her sunken form, pulling her from the steed against his chest.

“You’re really warm.” Her words escaped in a pained rasp.

His fingers found her chin and tilted her head back. The
hood of her cloak fell back and revealed a pale, bruised face. Her full lips
were chapped and a deathly shade of white. “What the hell happened?” The pain
in his own voice vibrated down to his core.

“You’re so warm.” The words were weakly muttered as she
nestled deeper into his chest.

Reza realized she was shaking and quickly took her toward
the house. Locks be damned. Cradling her against his chest, Reza kicked open
the front door and marched into the dark home. He made his way into the room
where he’d once pleasured her and laid her gently on the comforter. He left to
get her water, but she cried out.