“Will that be all, Master?” the servant asks with a short bow.
“Yes, Sadie. Thank you.” He dismisses her with a wave, and she wastes no time hurrying away from us. With her gone, I suddenly feel like a cornered animal. My heart rate picks up. I’m facing down a predator, and I’m not sure if he wants to devour my soul or devour me. Maybe both. Although, if I had a choice, I’d rather the latter.
“Come, join me,” he says as he gestures into his room. The command slides over me, the words buzzing in my head, and I feel my feet moving toward him without my command. I try locking my knees and digging my heel into the rug, but I’ve lost control of my own body.
His lopsided smile never wavers, and fear seizes me. He’s compelling me somehow… with his voice.
As I pass him to enter his room, my body brushes against his, and just the brief contact leaves me prickling with heat. Once inside, he closes the door. As expected, his room is larger than mine, but it doesn’t hold the same Victorian flare as the rest of the house. The walls are painted a dark blue; the furniture is white and modern; and black, white, and gray accents give it a masculine air, somehow adding to the seductive feel of the room.
It smells like sex, which isn’t too surprising, but I’m shocked to see that we’re alone. With all the sounds of pleasure coming from his room before, I thought someone else would be in here.
I glance up to see my reflection staring back at me, and I balk. There are mirrors on the ceiling, over the couches, over the massive bed, over random parts of the room that contain sketchy-looking racks, strappy contraptions, leather doodads, ropes...
I swallow roughly. The feeling of being trapped in a lion’s den increases tenfold, and my insides itch.
“Please, sit.”
The two words slither over me again, my temples pounding as I try to fight his strange power. But it’s no use. I walk over to the modern couch and sit in the middle. Like a freaking obedient puppy dog.
His movements are so graceful, fluid, as if he’s very aware of his body and what he’s doing to me. He takes a seat on the opposite couch and spreads his arms lazily over the back.
“What is your name, little girl?” he asks.
This time, his voice holds no power. I don’t feel the same tingling over my skin or push in my mind. Realizing that my muscles are clenched tight and I’m holding my breath in anticipation, I force myself to ease.
“Aria,” I answer on the exhale.
He licks his lips as if tasting my name on his tongue, and for some reason, the gesture makes my stomach flip. “Does that come with a last name, too?”
“It does.” But I wasn’t about to tell this stranger, especially since he was a demon. Mention of my last name would only bring questions about my parents that I couldn’t really answer, and I didn’t want to get into my complicated history and my bumpy ride through the foster care system.
“Well?” He waits for me to continue.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
One of his brows arches in annoyance. “Tell me your last name,” he says more forcefully this time, and like before, the command tingles up and down my limbs and ricochets in my head. Immediately, my lips part to obey him, but Sayah stirs inside me. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to draw my attention away from the hypnotizing power. It calms the bouncing of his command in my mind.
When I clamp my mouth shut, his eyes widen. The same curiosity and intrigue I’d seen in Cain passes over his face.
He leans forward now, staring at me intently. “What are you?”
“What?” I ask. My knees bounce under his merciless eye contact.
“How peculiar… You’re resistant to my charms,” he says.
His charms? More like machismo on steroids. “Honestly, you come on a little too strong, buddy.”
To my complete surprise, he laughs. “Cain was right. You are a wonder.”
At least this demon seems to have a sense of humor.
“And you’re not a virgin.”
His statement takes me aback. “What the fuck? What makes you think—”
He holds up a hand, unbothered by my outburst. “There’s no shame here. No judgment.”
Sure, I had boyfriends in the past. Well, I wouldn’t really even call them boyfriends, because they never lasted long—a one-night stand; maybe a few dates, at the most. Like everything else in my fucked-up life, I could never find anything stable or permanent.
“As an incubus, it’s my job to know,” he goes on.
“Incubus?”
He grins. “A sex demon.”
My gaze whips around the room again—the huge bed, the mirrors, the playthings… and those noises I’d heard. Yeah, sex demon checks out.
“Is Cain like you?” I ask, curious.
“Ha, no. Far from it. Although he probably could use a good lay. But no. He’s an original sin demon.”
I’m not sure what that means exactly, but it sounds scary and evil enough. “Original sin demon… Like the seven deadly sins?”
He nods. “It’s a big family, yes. He’s the oldest. Pride.”
That makes sense. With how easily his presence had weakened my knees, Lust would have been my first guess.
“But what I really want to know is what you are,” he says. “What are you hiding?”
It’s the same type of question Cain had asked me before. Why are they so determined to find out more about me?
I shrug, trying my best to seem nonchalant. “I’m just a girl. Nothing special.”
He launches himself at me. It happens so fast, I can’t even process what has happened until I’m laying on my back and he’s straddling me with his hands on either side of my head. My heart pounds against my ribs as I’m forced to do nothing but look up at him.
His hair drapes over his face and his gaze darkens on me. “Oh, my dear, that’s where I think you’re wrong.”
I wiggle under him, but with his immense weight on my hips and his arms caging me in, I can’t move. His nearness makes my head whirl. His rock-hard erection presses against my stomach, and my breaths grow more rapid and shallow. He smiles wide, liking the change in me.
“I need you to be a good girl and tell me what you are,” he says. His power caresses me like gentle, coaxing fingers, and I tremble as desire surges through me. It’s stronger now that he’s touching me. The need to give in is overwhelming.
Outside, thunder rumbles and rain begins to beat against the window. Sayah thrashes and tumbles inside me like a hurricane confined in a cardboard box. She’s trying to help me fight Dorian’s advances, but his pull is too great. I feel the words climbing up my esophagus.
“Tell me what you are.” His voice booms with his power, rattling my brain. My pulse slams against my eardrums, and there’s a sweet, building pressure between my thighs. Back arching, I squeeze my legs together, trying to focus on anything but his demands.
“Tell me and I’ll give you what you want.”
I can see our reflections in the mirror above and the sight of him hovering over me only heightens the sensations spinning through me. A delicious pleasure is mounting, and I can’t stop any of it. I’m completely at his mercy.