I felt the surge of power that indicated that something had come through the portal, and I invoked the bindings—more as a protection in the event that something other than Rhyzkahl had come through than for protection against the demonic lord. I knew too well that I didn’t have the means to hold him.
The portal closed and Rhyzkahl straightened, a smile playing on his beautiful face as I released the bindings and wards. I didn’t say anything, just stood beyond the edge of the diagram and waited. His eyes traveled over me and then—as expected—flicked to the storage diagram.
He let out a low laugh. “Very clever, dear one. Your moon is waning, and here you are with a demonic lord at your beck and call.”
The last was a gibe, I knew, especially since I’d been punished before for assuming that I could get the lord to serve me. I inclined my head. “I have no right to expect you to be at my beck and call, my lord.”
He stepped out of the diagram and over to me, putting a hand beneath my chin and tipping my head up. “You are more rested, I see.”
“I would not wish to squander your gift, my lord.”
He dropped his hand and laughed. “Please dispense with this obeisance, Kara. It does not suit you.” He walked past me to the table in front of the cold fireplace, then turned to look back at me. “I am more pleased than you can know that you have discovered a way to circumvent the constraints of your dependence on the lunar cycle.”
He hadn’t expected this from me. It was nice to finally feel as if I’d impressed him, even a little.
I walked to him, slowly unbuttoning my shirt. “I am delighted to give you such pleasure.” I stopped in front of him and let the shirt fall to the floor in a puddle of gray silk. A smile curved his lips as his eyes traveled over me.
“And this is the offering you have for me?”
I shook my head as I loosened the tie holding my silk pants up. They slipped to the floor and I kicked them aside. “Oh, no, my lord Rhyzkahl,” I said as I stood naked before him. “This is not an offering for you. You still wish me to be your summoner, yes?” My heart pounded, and not entirely from lust. A deeply hidden part of me was aware that I was letting my hurt feelings rule my actions, but right now I didn’t want to listen to it.
A flicker of something that might have been caution or confusion passed through his eyes in a fraction of a heartbeat, quickly shuttered, and I had to force myself not to feel a sense of triumph at his reaction. “I do,” he said simply.
He pushed off the table and slid a hand through my hair to the nape of my neck, then pulled me to him. He tilted my head back and looked down at me, fingers tightening in my hair. “I do,” he repeated in a low growl. “You are mine.” His mouth came down on mine and his other hand dropped to my breast as he deepened the kiss with a near-savage intensity. I whimpered against him even as heat exploded through my body. Yes. Need me. Want me.
I managed to pull away from his kiss long enough to drag a breath in. “Prove it,” I gasped in a half sob. Please. Prove to me that someone wants me.
Power flared hotly in his eyes, and his gaze locked on to mine for a bare instant before he lifted me and set me down on the heavy oak table. He pushed me to my back, his teeth bared in a silent snarl as he kept me pinned down with a hand on my upper chest. His other hand slid over my throat, pausing for a fraction of a second—just long enough for me to feel the weight of it—before moving down over my breasts and belly. My breath came in shallow pants as conflicting emotions clashed within me—desire, need, fear, shame.
“You wish me to pleasure you?” he asked, voice low and throbbing.
No. Yes. I squeezed my eyes shut as tears pricked them. What did I really want? I felt his hand between my legs, pushing my thighs apart. His fingers teased me, lightly pinching, and I sucked in breath as a shudder raced through my body.
“Or do you wish something other than pleasure?”
I swallowed harshly. “No,” I whispered. No pain. I had enough of that.
He began to slowly stroke me. “Ah, but you are mine. It should not matter what you wish.”
A slow warmth began in my belly, and I opened my eyes to look up at him. Yes. Don’t make me choose. Don’t make me decide anything. Don’t make me think about it.
His mouth slowly curved into a smile, as if he’d scored a great and terrible victory. He lifted his hand from my chest, but I didn’t move. He unlaced his breeches, and a heartbeat later I could feel him hard against me.