Immortals After Dark 07 - Kiss of a Demon King

flesh ... No! Resist her.
    "Tell me the second flaw." She lowered herself to the large bed, sitting gracefully on the side. Her mane of glossy red hair tumbled forward, and her scent swept him up. "You've raised my curiosity."
    He inwardly shook himself. "For my heir to be legitimate, you have to be my queen by marriage."
    "I know." She ran her fragile-looking hand over the sheet. "We will wed."
    She talked of marrying him as if it were an afterthought, while his mind was reeling.
    Because he was drawn to her as no other woman before. And there was only one way to determine if she was truly his.
    "You'll give your vow to me, demon. And I'll accept it."
    The vow-the recitation that would bind a rage demon king to his queen. No ceremony, no witnesses, just a pact between two to become one. He would vocalize his claim on her, and if she accepted his right to her, then she would forever be his queen. "My people will never recognize a marriage coerced by sorcery-or a conception fueled by your notorious potions."
    "Rydstrom, let's just be frank here. Considering your reaction to me"-she delicately pointed to his erection-"do you really think I'll need to use sorcery on you?" He clenched his jaw, unable to deny what was so obvious." "Of course you'd kill me after our babe is born?"
    Our babe. He'd never said the phrase in his life. Even she tilted her head at the words.
    But then she slowly smiled-and it was beguiling and took his breath away. Had she noticed?
    "Well, I wouldn't be a very good evil sorceress if I allowed you to live."
    "Then there's one thing I can assure you. You will
    never get my vow from me."
    "Then, Rydstrom, I can't let you have me without it."
    At that, everything became clear. She would tease him, sexually tormenting him until he gave up the words. Why did the thought make blood surge to his groin?
    This creature taking him to the brink, over and over.
    Imagining the power struggle between them, the complication of it . . . Fantasies arose in his mind, thoughts he usually buried at once. Secrets long kept- and forever denied. "Then all you're doing is wasting my time," he said, but his voice was roughened.
    "What makes you so confident that I can't make you say or do anything to be inside me?"
    Because so much is at stake. Never had Rydstrom been this close to all he wanted.
    He had to escape to get to his brother before he did something monumentally selfish. Cadeon was a cutthroat mercenary who had just come into possession of what he'd yearned for most in the world. "You couldn't tempt me from my duty before-and 1 didn't even know who you were then." Bravado, Woede.
    She stood, her shoulders back. "You haven't seen everything I have to tempt you with," she said, pulling a ribbon at her bodice. The gown slid over her pert nipples down her narrow waist and shapely legs to pool at her feet.
    All that remained on her exquisite body was a sheer scrap of white silk covering her breasts and the tiniest panties he had ever seen.
    His lips parted, and his cock felt like it could rip through his pants. With her eyes flashing, she raised her chin, well aware of her effect on him and prideful of it.
    If this female weren't so evil, she'd be glorious.
    In that instant, he decided, I'll claim her as my war prize when I escape.
    And he would use her to get free.
    L anthe shuffled to court, listening to her iPod, deep in thought.
    A few months ago, she'd been off-plane, sitting in an electronics store watching coveted cable. She'd caught a show about dolphins in captivity.
    When the animals got lethargic and bored, their trainers would put fish into a container so that the crea-tures would have to work to get them, figuring out how to open it.
    Lanthe remembered likening Sabine to one of those burned-out dolphins who couldn't swim freely or hunt for their meals.
    Sabine had been made a killer but had no one to destroy, a survivor with no calamity to endure. Which made her a burned-out sorceress. She had been for centuries.
    Yet tonight when Sabine had locked her gaze on the demon, Lanthe had realized her sister had just been given a demon-size container of fish. Finally . . .
    To get from the dungeon to court, Lanthe had to walk outside, and the night sky above seemed to mock her, rekindling old fears-What the hell was that? She'd thought she'd heard something swooping over her music.
    With her gaze darting, she snatched her ear buds free, then froze for several heartbeats. Only silence. Losing it.
    Her nerves