Page 10 of The Demon’s Collar (The Bard’s Demon #1)

Ero: In Over Every Head

Bardic Advice from Eroithiel von Dua to future generations: Be cautious, but don’t forget to live a little. Like, if you get a chance to fuck a demon… don’t quote me here, but… you know. You know.

B ?k walked for several long minutes. Long enough that I needed to shift for comfort on his shoulder.

He answered the tiny motion with a stinging slap to my ass—and I couldn’t prove it, but the dark laugh that followed felt like a direct commentary on the way I consumed the spark of pain like a pleasure wine.

By the time he stopped, we were far from the camp. He put me on my feet, my back to a tree, and stood too close. He pinned me with a warning. “Stay.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. There was nothing I was so prone to do as disobey ?a direct order. It was in the building blocks of my soul. But I humored him this time.

He extracted a heavy metal chain with two iron cuffs from a satchel at his hip. A tiny spark of fear wormed its way through my lusty exterior. Brü had said that B?k refused to fuck the entertainers because they might run. No one was running from those.

“They’re for me,” he grunted, reading my expression. Or my mind? Could he do that?

He looped the chain around a low-hanging tree branch, dangling the cuffs above our heads.

He fixed one onto his own wrist, and at his prompting grunt, I helped with the other.

Then my gaze dropped to his pants—which was perhaps too direct, but his enthusiasm already strained eagerly against the strange shadowy fabric.

There went the fear that he wasn’t interested.

“No…foreplay necessary?” I breathed.

“Your tears are my foreplay.”

My gaze snapped to his. How was he—chained to a tree—still in control of this? For fuck’s sake.

“Are you going to do something stupid, or are you going to get on your knees now, kitten?” he growled.

The words simultaneously enraged my mind and lit a blazing wick between my legs. Nice. Good. At least I was consistently contradictory.

“Both?” I said, as the heavy drunkenness of power finally bloomed in my chest.

“These chains won’t hold me if I don’t want them to,” he warned.

I would call that a silly boast, but I’d seen him during battle. He was probably right.

“You do want them to, though,” I shot back, sinking in slow motion to my knees without breaking eye contact. “If you lose control, you return to your little mental torture chamber.”

“Careful, or—” he started .

But I didn’t let him finish.

“What do you need from me?” I demanded. “And I don’t mean here, in the woods.

” I ran my fingers gingerly along his length, pausing at the tip.

To ensure I made myself crystal clear, I added, “I know what you need right now . But why did you collar me? At the fire, you said you still had a use for me. I didn’t miss that. ”

His jaw ticked in warning. A thousand dark promises shone in his eyes. He could break the chains and take me—but if he did, he might thwart himself. Still, I acknowledge that I was pushing my luck.

“I said—” I started, pouring cockiness into my tone just to get under his skin.

“Translations,” he snapped.

I blinked. Because…what the fuck? Selling me to some rich barbarian with musical sexual tastes, sure. Tormenting me for his own pleasure, I wouldn’t even question. But translations ? How bizarrely mundane.

“Say more,” I ordered—but, sensing that he was in danger of combusting, I began the slow process of unlacing his pants to tease the promise of imminent relief. I pressed my lips against his cock through the straining material.

“You’re from Finchton,” he gritted out. “The accent. I recognized it in the cave. Your people speak in riddles. Invitations to tea go six fucking wordplays deep. We have letters, and we need to know their meaning now .”

I stared up at him, mouth partly open. And yes, I was surprised, but the gesture was also a bit intentional—because I knew what he wanted, and I deeply enjoyed keeping it just out of his reach.

“I’m going to make you regret every fucking second—” he started .

I loosed the last tie, reached inside, and drew him out and into my mouth in one quick motion. His words dissolved in a groan. I traced my tongue around his head a few times, then drew him deeper.

Now, I was more of a student than a field specialist when it came to sucking cock.

I’d spent many a long night listening to women more experienced than I swap stories and recount in shocking detail the things they’d done to tame this variety of snake.

But I’d had limited opportunities to practice.

The men I’d experimented with were too impatient for that.

One batted me away and bent me over when he’d realized I was a novice.

Another held my hair and set a choking pace and then refused to meet my eyes as I’d spit the resulting mixture of vomit and cum into a washbasin.

Those men had been mistakes. No better than fodder for a few bawdy lyrics.

This moment, however, was not about giving immediate or perfect pleasure. That was quite freeing. So what if I was bad at it? So what if it took all night? Even better. Let him suffer.

I paused, breathing around his shaft without moving.

The air rippled as his anticipation morphed into irritation.

I chuckled, which probably felt better than he deserved. Only when his warning growl reached me did I resume motion.

I tried not to think about how good he tasted. As if I needed one more piece of evidence that my soul required a thorough cleansing from the gods. But until I could find a temple to fix me, why shouldn’t I enjoy this?

“Use your hands, kitten,” he ordered.

I trailed my hands up his inner thighs at a glacial pace, holding his gaze as I did so. Saying fuck you with my eyes while I literally fucked him with my mouth. With one hand, I cupped his balls. I took deep satisfaction in the sound he made when I wrapped my other hand around the base of his cock.

The tendrils in my chest gave an unexpected jolt.

For a fraction of a second, I was afraid we were about to be attacked.

My magic burned with readiness. But…no. There was no threat.

It was just that rush of power again. I could squeeze.

I could destroy. I could bring him to his gods-damned knees. I positively burned with that high.

When I looked up to check his face, I found him frozen, staring so intensely at me that my stomach flipped.

I didn’t look away, though. I pumped his shaft and trapped his sensitive tip between the roof of my mouth and my tongue, keeping a perfect rhythm like the good little bard I was.

His balls tightened in my hand a second before he came.

I didn’t release him. I swallowed the salty brine and kept going, teasing his flesh with hums and puffs of breath until the temperature spiked around us.

“Are you satisfied?” I mused. It was hard to speak with his cock in my mouth, but I managed. I’m determined like that.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

I chuffed, annoyed that he was coherent enough to issue the command. I felt like I’d done better than that.

With a final slow breath, and perhaps the lightest squeeze to remind him I actually held his balls in my hand, I released him and stood.

“The key is around my neck,” he said.

I searched his eyes. Still red. My mental victory lap fizzled, replaced by alarming doubt. He wouldn’t have cum if it’d been that bad, right? He didn’t look angry.

“Something wrong?” he purred.

That quick, he had the power again. Even though the chains still held him. Something in his voice told me I was being na?ve.

I reached for the key tentatively, and despite the certainty that he was leading me into a trap, I said, “Your eyes don’t look better.”

A cold smile curved his lips. “My pleasure doesn’t help with that. I just wanted to see your mouth do something useful for once. Now unlock me.”

A strained breath slipped through my lips.

For a moment, I’d almost lost myself to the fantasy.

I’d almost forgotten who B?k was. I averted my eyes so I wouldn’t have to watch him enjoy his victory as I lifted the key and unlocked one wrist and then the other.

The air sizzled around us the moment the second cuff came off.

I had to shield my face to protect it from the rush of heat.

What was that?

When I dropped my hands, he was rubbing his wrists. They were mottled red and raw. The cuffs weren’t tight, and he hadn’t tried to fight them, so that was odd.

“Undress,” he commanded.

I dropped the cuffs, peering up to see if he was serious. But of course he was. This was exactly what I’d offered him.

The red in his eyes briefly glowed brighter.

Fuck.

My body seemed to remember that I was keeping company with a demon who had the option to mind flay me into doing what he liked a beat before my brain did. I dropped my fingers to my shirt and tugged it off. My boots and then pants and underthings followed.

“Put those on,” he said, pointing to the cuffs.

A chill rolled down my spine .

“I don’t think that’s a good…” I whispered, then trailed off. “You know I can’t run.”

“You put them on like you’re told, and I’ll do this the nice way,” he said. “If I have to put them on you, I won’t. Pleasure or pain? It doesn’t matter to me. Which do you prefer?”

His thumb traced the leather strap hanging from his belt. I hadn’t noticed it before. He smirked accusingly. My cheeks blazed.

“Can you read minds?” I didn’t care that asking meant tacitly admitting my depravity. This was the third time I’d gotten the impression that he knew too much of my mind—things he couldn’t possibly have guessed so correctly.

“Desires, kitten.” B?k said. “I can read desires .”