Page 27 of Prince of Demons (Demon’s Mark #2)

“Oh…” She cleared her throat, wishing she couldn’t feel the blood pool hotly in her cheeks.

“Sorry.” She made to pull her hand away, to move on to washing his legs instead, but a large, clawed hand grabbed her by the wrist before she could clear the waterline.

Keeping her gaze locked in his, the demon pulled her hand lower down, until the sponge made contact with something rigid and huge.

“You missed a spot.”

The growl in his voice made something clench low in her gut. Terror. Had to be terror.

“I…” She trailed off, biting her lip. She’d known what she was offering when she made her bargain for Suzanne. That he had a horrifying dick didn’t change what he valued in her.

Wordlessly, she relaxed her arm and let him guide the sponge down the full length of him.

He shuddered at the caress, another low growl escaping his throat before he released her wrist and leaned back. Black eyes still locked in hers.

Slowly, she rubbed the sponge back up the length of his cock, then down again, moving around the thick column of flesh to wash every part.

He shuddered in response, clawed hands tightening around the rim of the tub. When she gave the head a gentle stroke of the sponge, he bit his bottom lip and tilted his head back, a soft groan rumbling through his massive body.

Power.

The word rang through her mind again as she looked up at the monster so entirely enthralled by her touch, even muted by the sponge.

Perhaps…. Perhaps he hadn’t been entirely wrong, after all.

There was a strange rush of power at having this hulking monster of a male trembling with a simple touch.

A dark dichotomy between her life ending in his hands if she broke through his ability to control himself, and the knowledge that perhaps she could push the Prince of Demons to his breaking point. She had that power.

Slowly, carefully, she rubbed the sponge along his cock—up and down, up and down. He hissed every time she brushed against those scary-looking ridges along the rim of the head, as if they were so sensitive he could barely stand it.

Curiosity finally won out. Georgia dipped her gaze to the thick column of flesh rising from between his powerful thighs. It was an angry red, aggressively textured, and just… absurd. Gently, she traced a finger along the coronal ridges, drawing a full-body tremble from the demon.

“They’re… softer than I thought they’d be,” she murmured, emboldened by finally having some semblance of control. “Cartilage? Not bone.”

“Yes.” His voice was a low, raspy rumble. “It’s for dominance, not injury.”

“But you would still kill me if we…?” She put the sponge aside and pressed a fingertip into the valley between two ridges, testing the flexibility in the tissue. Despite the uneven texture of his skin, it was still silky soft under her touch.

Kesh growled at the pressure, eyes narrowing—but he didn’t stop her from continuing.

“Yes. I would. But not because of the ridges. I’m a lord.

My magic is… potent. When I couple with a female, I can’t hold it back, and a human woman can’t withstand its untempered touch within her.

You would rip apart from the inside, leaving nothing but a pile of guts and ashes. ”

Georgia froze, her attention shifting abruptly to his face at the mention of ‘guts and ashes’. “Um… How do you…? Has that… happened before?”

“It has.” His lip quirked at the look of horror spreading across her face. “Barbaric, isn’t it? Tell me, Breeder, what are you imagining right now? My roar of pleasure as my unwilling victim dies beneath me? The terror and agony for her before I finally snuffed her life?”

That was exactly what she was picturing. Suddenly having zero interest in touching his dick, she pulled her hand away. “Is that not… accurate?”

“Does it matter? You’re a Breeder—no matter how many times you sell your body to me, I’ll never desecrate it. You’re too valuable to end your life screaming on my cock.”

“Of course it matters.” Despite the terror clenching her esophagus, a spark of anger rose at the thought of what he’d done. “You seem incapable of understanding that I care about other people. And… and if you did that… if you…”

“If I raped someone? Multiple someones? Would that be worse than what you already know me to be? You’ve been on your knees before, begging me to spare a woman’s life.” He stared her down, something almost like accusation in his black eyes. As if her horror… offended him.

Georgia set her jaw and shifted her weight on the stool, away from him. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because there isn’t a max level of awful you can reach!

That man you killed… at least it was to feed yourself.

But to hear that you’ve raped women? Knowing they’d die horribly?

You’re no better than the asshole who wanted to sell me in his brothel!

” She wasn’t sure why that realization stung like a betrayal.

She’d known him to be a monster from first sight, and when he’d killed that poor guy in the bathroom and tried to kill the woman, too, she’d seen exactly how he saw humans: as resources to use.

And still, somehow, she’d still felt… not safe with him.

But not truly terrified, either. Not like she had at the brothel, because…

Because she’d believed him when he’d said he didn’t rape the women he took to his home, and she’d nurtured a sheer, desperate hope that he wasn’t all the way evil.

That, however bleak the circumstances, he was proof that her future mate might also be capable of some decency.

He let out a laugh, low and bitter. “Oh, so there are gradients? If I need sustenance, your squishy little Breeder heart can find forgiveness for my atrocities, but if my cravings are for pleasure, for comfort, you’d judge me for indulging?”

“Yes!” she spat. “One is for survival, the other… the other you could ask a woman to give. Or does it have to be forced for you to enjoy it?”

Kesh exhaled slowly, his eyes locked with hers, smoldering with desire again—as if her anger excited the beast within him. “No. It doesn’t. But I don’t have to ask, either, do I, Breeder? Not when I have a mouthy little female at hand who so eagerly traded her services for the night.”

“I suppose desperation to save a child’s life is what a rapey monster would class as ‘eagerness’,” she bit.

A snarl ripped from the prince’s throat. He stood, so abruptly the water sloshed over the edge of the tub, and yanked her up by an iron grip on her arms.

Georgia yipped, terror overriding her anger as he lifted her into the tub and then off her feet, bringing her all the way up to his face. She struggled against his hold, pushing against his massive chest, but he didn’t so much as flinch.

His lip peeled back from his teeth, revealing his sharp fangs, and the look of utter fury in those black vortex eyes shot tendrils of ice to her tailbone.

“You want to be a martyr, Breeder? You want me to play the role of the big, bad monster foaming at the mouth to violate you? Fine. I’ll make you the victim you so desperately want to be. ”