Blood of the Demon

I lifted my chin defiantly. “Well, what if I don’t want to sleep with you again?”

 

 

He tipped his head back and laughed, as close to a full belly laugh as I thought I would ever hear come out of a demon. I scowled at him, and then, in a movement that was damn near too fast for me to follow, he was standing in front of me, holding my face in his hands. “That is not what I was referring to, dear one, but obviously it has been on your mind a great deal if that is the first thing that occurred to you.”

 

I flushed at the truth of his words, heat rising in my face, then abruptly his mouth was on mine and a different heat began to rise. I didn’t resist as his tongue sought mine and his hands slid around to my back. A small moan escaped me as his body molded against mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist without even thinking about it, and he pressed against me, showing me that he was more than willing to pursue that line of thinking. Damn, but I’d missed this. Missed feeling sexy … desirable. But he’s only doing this to sway my decision …

 

His hand slipped beneath the silk of my shirt, skimming over my breast. Gooseflesh rippled over my body, and I could feel my nipple harden beneath his palm. My legs tightened around him, and he obligingly ground against me, forcing a gasp from me. I tugged at his shirt without thinking, wanting to feel the exquisite perfection of his skin. It was as incredible as I’d remembered—satin over rippled iron. But it’s just sex. Really great sex, yeah, but … I could get sex anywhere, right?

 

Like maybe with Ryan?

 

I shuddered and broke the kiss with a small gasp, pulling back from him. I couldn’t do this, couldn’t make the kind of decision he wanted when I was overwhelmed and confused. He straightened, the smile still playing on his face.

 

“Not as delightful as you remembered?”

 

I let out a shaking breath and scooted back a few inches on the table—far enough that the evidence of his arousal wasn’t pressed right up against the evidence of my arousal. “It was … delightful, Lord Rhyzkahl, I cannot deny that. But I need to be able to think clearly.” I took a deep breath. “What do you mean, ‘access to you’?”

 

“My knowledge, my power, my skills.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Do you deny that you desire greater knowledge of the arcane?”

 

Shit. I couldn’t deny that, not when I had a list of things that I needed to know more about upstairs on my kitchen table. “Okay, there is a lot I need to learn. But I’m not sure I’m ready to … er, commit to you like that.”

 

“Ah, so I must woo you.” His eyes glinted. “I have never had need to do so.” He leaned close to me, sliding fingers across my cheek. “I must remember how it is done.”

 

I snorted and lightly batted his fingers away. “Not like that.”

 

I felt a brief shimmer of potency, then he withdrew his hand and straightened, dark power smoldering in his eyes. “Yes,” he said softly. “Your brief sojourn in the demon realm did you well.”

 

Another sliver of fear began to spread through me, but before I could berate myself too harshly—I batted his hand away? Holy crap, what was I thinking?—he turned away, clasping his hands lightly behind his back. “Very well. I will woo you. I will answer three questions without debt.”

 

I blinked. “Are you serious? Three questions with no debt of honor incurred?” Then I cringed. Nice going, moron. That was two questions right there.

 

“Three questions. No debt. A courting gift, if you will.”

 

I hopped off the table, relieved that he wasn’t going to be a stickler about when the questioning would start. But if he was trying to “woo” me, then being a jerk about the questions certainly wouldn’t endear him to me. “I’ll be right back,” I said, as I took off up the basement stairs, then raced down the hall to the kitchen, bare feet slapping against the wood floor. I grabbed the paper off the table and spun to race back to the basement.

 

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