Page 18 of Prince of Demons (Demon’s Mark #2)

Georgia

T raining.

Not the least ominous sounding word when coming from an enormous demon who insisted on calling her Breeder.

Georgia picked at her breakfast, not in any rush to find out exactly what the brutish prince meant by that. It only served to irritate him more.

“Eat.”

She jolted at the snarled command, daring a look at the demon by her side.

He was glaring down at her as if her very existence offended him on a personal level, arms folded across his massive chest. Despite his anger at her apologies, she had the distinct impression he was still offended by her lack of enthusiasm for the damn quiche.

“I’m eating, I’m eating.” She stabbed a piece of scrambled egg on her fork and popped it in her mouth with what she hoped was suitable appreciation.

But when she put the fork down next to her plate while she chewed, the prince picked it back up, wrangled another forkful of egg, and, without ceremony, brought it to her mouth.

“Wh—” Georgia’s surprised protest broke off on a cough when he shoved the fork between her lips.

She barely managed to chew before he forced another mouthful in.

And another. Crisp slices of bacon followed the eggs, and then several olives, a buttered blueberry muffin, and a handful of grapes that he pushed against her lips one at a time, gaze heating when her tongue flicked against his fingertips.

The demon prince clearly had a feeding kink.

Great. Just great.

But still, it beat Jimmy. By a wide margin. At least for now.

Georgia slanted a glance up at the demon’s burning eyes as she chewed on yet another grape.

His attempt at shaming her for offering to repay him the favor in the bathroom aside, his interest in her was obvious.

She wasn’t here to do his laundry and vacuum his floors, and once whatever hellish training he had planned was complete, she doubted he’d hold himself back like he had up until now.

So she allowed him to feed her far past what was comfortable, keen on delaying the inevitable for as long as possible. Only when her stomach ached and the grape he pressed to her mouth made bile rise in her throat, did she finally put a shaky hand on his wrist.

“I can’t eat anymore.”

The prince frowned down at her. “You’ve hardly touched your food.”

Georgia glanced at the table and let out a weak laugh. “You’ve not dealt with humans much before, have you?”

“I’ve dealt with plenty.”

“Well, I don’t think you ever got around to feeding them.

We have limits, you know? Physical restrictions?

Less-but-more-frequently works better, if you’re not actively trying to rupture our stomachs.

” She put a hand to her belly and groaned, regretting not stopping him sooner.

Unless whatever training he had in mind consisted of a long nap while she digested the absurd quantities of breakfast he’d made her eat, being so full she could hardly move was unlikely to make the experience any more enjoyable.

The prince only frowned at her, clearly not convinced. “How are your energy levels?”

“Um…” Despite the urge for a nap, surprisingly good. Somewhere during the ridiculous breakfast, her muscles had stopped trembling, and she no longer felt like a mild gust of wind might make her collapse.

Georgia glanced up at the prince and briefly considering telling him she was still too weak for whatever horrors he had planned, but quickly remembered that apparently he could smell her lies.

As much as she wasn’t looking forward to his training, pissing him off by lying first probably wasn’t going to improve the experience. “Better. Thank you.”

“Alright. Let’s go.” He got to his feet and flicked two fingers at her. When she obeyed, he began walking back down the hallway. Toward the bedroom.

The hope she’d harbored that his training would consist of sit-ups and cardio, already practically non-existent, hit the floorboards.

Kesh shouldered his way through the doorway and gestured with a nod of his chin. “Get on the bed.”

Georgia drew in a shaky breath and glanced from the bedding still tousled from when she’d gotten up this morning to the giant demon. “Um… what… what are you going to do?”

“First, I’ll mark you. Then I’ll train you.”

How delightfully nondescript.

She grimaced. “Will it… hurt?”

He huffed a breath through his nose. “If you were worried about pain, perhaps you should have asked this before you sold yourself for that useless brother of yours.”

Unexpected anger flared hotly in her gut, suppressing some of her anxiety. “He’s not useless. He’s kind and good-hearted and he didn’t deserve to die. I’d sacrifice myself a thousand times over for him.”

“Then what do you care if there’s pain?” There was a taunt to the prince’s voice, but also… something else. Irritation? Anger? It made her skin prick with primal awareness, her anxiety pushing to the forefront again at the sound of it.

“If he’s worth your body, your life, then surely he must be worth some pain, hmm? A bit of humiliation.” The prince snapped his fingers. “So get. On. The. Bed.”

He was right. Even when she’d thought she sold her body so Lewin could harvest her juices, she hadn’t expected a pleasant experience.

This dark monster might be a better fate than the brothel she’d been facing before one of Jimmy’s goons grew a conscience, but he was still the Prince of Demons.

Even if he’d been surprisingly gentle with her so far, she wouldn't soon forget how he’d crushed that poor man’s skull to replenish his own energy.

By comparison, a little pain and humiliation wasn’t the end of the world.

Steeling herself, Georgia climbed onto the bed and lay down on her back.

He hadn’t asked her to strip out of the silky dress, but the flowy garment wasn’t much help in protecting her modesty.

The skirt bunched up around her thighs, and she felt the sear of the demon’s gaze on her skin as he moved closer.

Whatever branding meant, he’d healed Larry. It was worth it.

“You’re shaking.” His deep voice didn’t betray any emotion, and when she cut her eyes up to his terrifying face, the expression on it was impassive.

Georgia clutched her hands in the bedding, trying to anchor her trembling muscles. “Sorry.”

The demon blew out a breath and sank down on the foot-end of the bed, a single fingertip skimming over her bare ankle.

“Are you always so sorry, little lamb? When you lay down your life for another, when you don’t do what you’re told…

When you tremble and fear for your pretty little cunt, the first thing that comes to mind for you is to apologize? ”

His heated touch traveled higher up her shin, rendering her tongue dry and her skin pebbled with nervous goosebumps.

His voice was soft, but there was a quiet, lethal quality to it that set her on edge as much as his touch and the ominously lacking explanation of what he was planning on doing to her.

“I… we made a deal. You kept your end of the bargain, and I promised… compliance,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut when his hand moved to her knee and warm anticipation spread up her thighs.

Perhaps if her body didn’t remember the two times he’d touched her there already, it would have been nothing but dread.

But even as her mind turned over the words ‘branding’ and ‘training’ with frantic repetition, the slow slide of his hand, ever upward, sent a thrill of excitement along her skin.

The utter and complete mortification made her clutch harder at the sheets.

He was a prince among the darkest monsters to haunt the Earth—and his merest touch made her clit swell against its metal confines, eager for pleasure that should have disgusted her.

Only it didn’t.

Deep down, she knew that even his demonic face would do nothing to tamp the increasing burn in her blood as his fingers finally reached the hem of her skirt and pushed up underneath it—but so long as she kept her eyes shut, she wouldn’t have to acknowledge it.

Something is seriously wrong with you, Georgie.

“Oh!” The first stroke of his knuckle over her lower lips sent a lightning bolt up her spine that had her breath exploding out of her chest.

A deep, rich growl vibrated through the air, pebbling her nipples.

“You’re wet.” There was more than a hint of accusation in the Prince’s voice—but not nearly enough to drown out the heat. It crawled up her thighs and sank into the bones of her pelvis, cementing the shameful truth of his words.

“S-sorry.”

He huffed an irritated sound and then rubbed his thumb up the length of her slit to find her exposed clit. When he brushed the pad over the sensitive flesh, the crackle of sensation—too sharp, too intense—made her jerk and suck in a sharp breath.

The prince pinned her in place with a large, heavy hand pressed firmly to her abdomen, low enough to not agitate her still-full belly. “Oh, no. You promised compliance, remember? So you will comply.”

His snarled command shouldn’t have made her pussy clench—it really, really shouldn’t.

Her body didn’t give a single fuck.

The next brush of his thumb over her clit was still much too intense, but behind the screaming of nerves, something dark and needy rose.

She was entirely helpless, entirely at his mercy—forced to take the stimulation to her exposed little clit, no matter how much it might hurt.

That thought should have filled her with terror—and it did—but not nearly enough to drown out the tidal wave of lust that rose from the deepest parts of her mind in response.

“Oh my God! Harder! Please— please, more!”