Page 27 of The River of Fire
“What do you suggest then?” I ask, my voice breathy. I absolutely loathe the effect this male has on me.
His smile widens, “Why, ask me, of course.” Ask him? Suddenly my head is empty of questions. Not that it was full of much else but how absolutely beautiful he is, that night-dark hair caressing his strong brow, swaying in the wind, the light stubble on his cheeks giving a roguish mien.
“What do you actually look like?” Huh. I guess I had a question after all. I managed to surprise him again, his eyes narrowing infinitesimally for a second.
He answers carefully, as if he doesn’t quite understand why I’m asking. “I have been able to assume this mortal-like form since I could assume a corporeal form. So one might say this is what I truly look like when in a tangible state. Can I assume other forms? Yes. Certainly none you would find as pleasing asthis one,” he finishes arrogantly, a man assured of his incredibly good looks.
“Did you set this up, with the succubus, so you could talk to me?” I ask, my brain not quite eye-fucked to death yet.
“No.” His smile is all ‘the cat that ate the canary’. Now it’s my turn to furrow my brow in confusion. That is not the answer I expected – it was all too convenient to be serendipitous. “I ‘set this up’,” he mocks, “so I have a small measure of time before Fallen besiege my home demanding your return.”
Wait, what? I spring up and pull out my swords, the futility of it second place to the need not to be at the mercy of one of Hell’s most sadistic denizens for a prolonged period of time.
He moves so fast that my eyes can’t focus; one moment, he’s sitting on the log, the next he’s holding both of my wrists, looking down at me with the same smug smile he had while watching me writhe in pleasure against his body. “This may be unpleasant,” he notes, as if remarking that it may rain tomorrow.
The oppressive pressure of his presence increases a thousandfold, gravity pulling me in like there’s a black hole at the core of my body. The pain of the tremendous pressure in my skull is all-encompassing and I shriek like a banshee. Just when I think I’m either going to pass out or die – neither option unwelcome under these circumstances – a flash of light startles me into inhaling, my lungs finally expanding.
I find myself standing in an opulent room fit for a king, the red and black color scheme and the gothic furniture making me feel like I stepped into a cathedral.
Ashtaroth is scowling at me. “Your nose is bleeding,” he accuses, as if it’s my fault. I swipe my fingers under my nose and they indeed glisten with ruby red. The creak of leather draws my gaze to his clenched fist. “I have never transported anyone with human blood through the ether until now,” he says almost sheepishly, taking off his gloves and dragging a hand across his face.
Hello Mr. Mercurial. Also,helloto those hands. Is it just notpossible, according to any law of the universe, for something on this bastard to be unattractive? There are intricate glyphs tattooed across the tops of his hands, veins prominent just the right amount, and black rings adorning his long, elegant fingers.Fuck my life.
“Why did you kidnap me?” I snap at him. He focuses on me, again looking confused. I would roll my eyes, but I’m worried he’d pluck them out to adorn his next martini if I did so. “Why have you abducted me?” I try again.
He’s back to his usual commanding posture, a satisfied grin on his angelic face. “Can’t have you dying before I feast on your cunt.”
A part of my brain wonders if he’s trying to speak colloquially to please me. It’s a very tiny part, because the majority of my brain descended into my pussy as soon as his words registered.
I blink at him, a doe caught in the headlights.
Chapter 20 – Ashtaroth
“I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Trained, even!”
My little lamb is valiantly avoiding addressing my words in their entirety. No matter, her body truly does tell me everything I wish to know about her reactions.
“It’s different now: my brother is missing, there are uncontrolled rifts to the mortal world, and entries to The Pits manifested.” I do not know why I am trying to mimic her informal way of speaking, something that always irked me. Why should I care if she sees me as an ancient beast – I am one, after all.
“He’s your brother?” she asks, surprised.
I wave my hand in negation. “Not in thephysical sense. It is our relationship. It is hard to have a brother when you’re created in a time before time.”
Her mouth opens in an ‘o’ as she ponders this. Adorable. I want to stretch her lips with my cock.
At that moment her stomach rumbles and I glare at it. Having her spread-eagle on my bed with my tongue between those luscious ass cheeks will have to wait. “I will see about arranging dinner,” I say, instead of throwing her face down on the mattress. I can wait a while longer. “Meanwhile, you may wash the dust away.” I gesture towards the bathroom, where I had a toilet added to the plumbing just days ago.
“There are clothes in that dresser.” I point toward the dresser I had built for her, carvings of grazing sheep decorating the doors. I smile at the offended look she throws the pastoral scene. Deliciously predictable.
I need to leave before I fuck her to starvation. I find that I want to show my acquisition off to my court anyway. And let it be known she is not for them. “You have an hour,” I say. Surely my staff can prepare a feast for the court in that amount of time if pressed? Not wasting any time, I will myself into the kitchen.
The exact time I have been here last is unknown to me; I gain no sustenance from food and I have underlings to arrange the feasts in my honor. The kitchen staff surely did not expect me to materialize into existence amid them and they panic, fumbling with cookware, making an ungodly amount of noise as it drops out of their hands.
“My… My Lord!” the head cook stutters. I vaguely remember taking him into servitude centuries ago.
“A feast for the court, ready in an hour,” I clip.
“But… but… that’s not possible,” the cook squeals, the sound irritating me as much as his words.
