Immortals After Dark 07 - Kiss of a Demon King

would be cautious with her quarry. Getting attached to him, or rather to his body or his tempt' ing kiss, would make their situation . . . unfortunate when she was finished with him.
    "Ready for the pants?" Lanthe slapped her hands and rubbed them together. "Let's see if the rumors about demon males are true."
    "Oh, they're true. In fact, I think they're underre-ported." Sabine bit her bottom lip. He was still semihard, and she didn't know if she wanted anyone to see him like that. To her attendants, Sabine said, "Leave
    us."
    When she and Lanthe were alone, Sabine grasped the waist of his low-hanging pants, but paused at the button above the fly. "Maybe I'll keep these on him. For effect, when I take them off."
    Lanthe's brows rose at Sabine's proprietary behavior.
    "What?" Sabine said defensively. "I merely don't want him to get cold." She began chaining his wrists
    above his head.
    "Uh-huh," Lanthe said. "I'll be monitoring this situation closely." She fastened the manacles at the foot of the bed around his ankles.
    When he was secured, Sabine sidled up next to Lanthe, and they both gazed at the demon.
    His broad shoulders seemed to take up the entire mattress, tapering beautifully to his narrow waist. The hair on his arms, chest, and the trail below his navel was black, but tipped with blond against his tanned skin.
    "He's . . . Abie, he's magnificent" Lanthe breathed. "Your own demon love slave here for you to use whenever you like. I want one, too!"
    "Yes, but now I have to get him up to speed with his new role."
    Lanthe nodded thoughtfully. "One thing we never considered . . . what if he is the sole male we've ever encountered who continually puts his duty above his lusts? What if he keeps his promises without fail?"
    "There's no such male," Sabine said without hesitation.
    "I wonder. Maybe he's so firmly on the side of good that someone from the Pravus can't tempt him."
    "Are you doubting my skill as a seductress?" Hettiah had already publicly challenged her.
    "How about a side wager, then?"
    "I'm game. If you can't seduce him in the next week, then I get your finest headdress."
    Made of the rarest blue and white golds, Sabine's most treasured headdress was winged, arching back over the ears, with gossamer strands of gold cascading over the front.
    Sabine had stolen it from the Queen of Clairsen-tience, along with her ability to touch objects and read their history. It had been a root power, and they'd fought to the death for it. But ultimately, Sabine had given the clairsentience to Lanthe, admitting to herself that she'd truly only wanted the headdress.
    The sisters didn't wager gold lightly. Their mother had often rubbed sovereigns against her face as she lovingly said, "Gold is life! It is perfection! Band it in armor over thy heart and never will thy life's blood
    part."
    But Sabine couldn't lose this bet. She was Rydstrom's fated female. "And when I win, you have to go without sex for a year. Maybe then you'll have more sympathy for my plight." At Lanthe's disbelieving look, she said, "Yes, I said a year. You know that the piece is of equal value."
    Lanthe cast her a pained expression, but said, "Very
    well, you have a wager."
    Just then, Sabine's captive muttered in Demonish, his firm lips parting around each rough syllable.
    "Then run along. I want to be here alone when he awakes once more."
    When Lanthe had gone, Sabine climbed upon the bed beside his waist, tilting her head as she studied him up close. His horns fascinated her, how they curved back around his head and were mostly smooth, but had ridges toward the base. His thick hair could cover them almost completely, so he would be able to go out among humans, where many demons couldn't.
    Recalling how much he'd loved her touching them,
    she ran her fingers along them. He shuddered even when unconscious.
    Next her eyes flitted over his face. He had chiseled good-looks-a strong nose and squared chin-marred only by his deep scar. The wound had obviously been severe, and she wondered how he'd gotten it.
    She eased her gaze lower. This demon had a body like she'd never known.
    Sabine had always preferred more dapper physiques. The men she was attracted to were almost always of the Sorceri, rarefied smooth operators. Rydstrom was no smooth-talking sorcerer-he was raw masculinity.
    This didn't mean she was eager to bed him. Historically, she'd proved averse to being bitten, and demons marked their females upon claiming them. And a demon's very looks