Page 63
Story: Demon's Bride
With a rough growl, I tear the tunic completely away. Another swipe of my claws—careful enough not to cut her but swift enough to draw a surprised gasp—leaves her entire torso bare. Her chest is heaving with her fast, aroused breath, and when I run a thumb over one of those pert, perfect nipples it pebbles even tighter beneath my touch.
Leaning back, I stare down at my mate, surveying her. Seeing her here, bared, caught by me in the wilderness is a powerful, primal thing.
I need to see the rest of her.
“Boots off,” I order. “Now.”
Though it makes me even more of a bastard, I don’t let her have an inch more than she needs to shimmy and kick them off. When they’re discarded, my hands land immediately on the waistband of her trousers. Ripping them down the front, the fabric sags against her hips and reveals the little pair of panties she’s wearing beneath.
“More lace,” I growl, running a clawed thumb under the waist of them, brushing against the top of her sex. “What did I say about lace?”
The harsh comment draws my witch’s ire. “Nothing that I intend to listen to.”
A heartbeat later, I’ve got her sprawled out on the forest floor, keeping her supported with an arm as I follow her down so she doesn’t land too hard on her bottom. A tug, another, and a single long, sharp tear and her pants and those infuriating little panties are dealt with, leaving her completely nude in front of me.
A worthy prize indeed. Every single hunter’s instinct in me roars to see her so delicate, so helpless, ready for me to do whatever I’d like to her.
Well, maybe not so helpless.
With a sharp kick aimed at my gut, Allie rolls and attempts to flee. She doesn’t even make it to her feet before I’ve got her belly-down on the ground. The forest floor is soft, covered in a carpet of moss, but I lean down and whisper into her ear to be sure.
“You remember the words?”
“Yes,” she whispers back. “‘Rose petals’, and you’ll stop.”
“Good girl.”
The praise sends a little shiver through her, though it’s only a few seconds more before she’s struggling again, trying to wriggle away from me.
I still her with two firm hands on her hips. “Enough of that, witch. Surrender to me and there might be some reward in it.”
Allie struggles even harder. “I think I’d rather take my punishment.”
Fire. Liquid fire runs through my veins with those tempting, taunting words of hers. My hand connects sharply with her bare ass, and Allie sucks in a breath.
“Fuck!”
That bit of profanity is another shot of flame in my gut. I spank her again, and she lets out a ragged scream.
“Any words for me, witch?”
Even now, half-crazed and lost in the hunt's thrill as I am, no part of me would see her hurt. It’s a silent vow, as deep as the words I spoke to her in those woods when we wed. She’s mine to claim, yes, but also mine to protect.
“No,” she moans. “No words, sir.”
Sir.
Fuck. Fuck, but that’s erotic. Maddening little witch.
Hands still steady on her hips, I draw her up and back until she’s raised onto her knees, forearms braced on the ground in front of her. Retracting my claws, I draw a finger down the full, luscious swell of her ass and lower still, brushing up against her cunt.
Wet and hot and ready for me, Allie lets out a low groan when I linger there, dipping just inside.
“My mate,” I murmur, well beyond caring that the term is still a point of contention between us. “You’re so wet for me. So hot for me, aren’t you?”
“No,” she protests, even as she arches back into me, greedy cunt contracting to take my intruding finger deeper.
“Yes,” I growl, sinking that finger all the way inside of her. “Yes, witch, you are. You’re a mess for me. So eager. So wanting.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 63 (Reading here)
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