Would it slow or quicken further if he leaned down and ran his tongue over the soft band of muscle?
“Lady Elia, is it?” he said, tightening his hold on her as he began to move.
She looked both impressed and concerned. “You have discovered my name already. Well done.”
“Unfortunately that is all I have discovered. I want more.”
“Do you?”
His lips curved into a smile. “Yes. I want everything.”
He heard her breath catch and he released her for a moment, twirled her, then scooped her back up again and continued a slow rotation with the other couples on the floor.
She stared up into his eyes. “Perhaps I’m not very keen to give it.”
“Why would that be?” he asked, leading her to the center of the floor. “Do you have something to hide, Elia?”
“Yes I do, my lord,” she answered daringly.
A low growl rumbled in Cas’s throat. “I demand to know what it is.”
Her eyes flashed green fire. “I don’t respond to demands.”
His body hummed with awareness. “Even from an Incubus Master?”
“Even then.”
Heat surged into him, tightened his skin around his muscles—sent blood to his cock. This female had no fear of him, no wish to please him. Only a delight in challenging him. It was a characteristic he had never admired before. Or tolerated, for that matter.
Until this moment.
“What perfume do you wear on your skin?” he demanded.
“Why?” She smiled slowly. “Does it offend you?”
His nostrils flared and he took her into his lungs. “It does not,” he nearly groaned.
What was happening to him? Was this female an apparition? A cruel ruse? Sent by an enemy who wished to drive the new Lord and Master of Trevanion to his knees?
“I wear nothing,” she told him. “What you scent, my lord, is only my bare skin.”
Cas slowed to a side sway and drew her closer. His cock was hard and his mind was nearly taken over by his demon. The demon that wanted nothing more than to— “The song has ended,” she said, her eyes on his.
So it had. But he didn’t care, didn’t let her go. He wondered in that moment if he ever would or could. “Do you wish to dance with another male, Elia?” He knew his tone was excessively harsh. “And I caution you against saying yes.”
“Because you wouldn’t like it.”
“That, and I would have to rip his arms from his body.”
Her lips twitched. Such full, rose-colored, edible lips. “That isn’t very nice, Master Trevanion.”
He sniffed. “I’m. Not. Nice. Elia.”
Guests moved around them almost silently. Or perhaps he had tuned them out in favor of this female’s voice.
“Would you want me to decline another’s request to dance out of fear?” she asked him. “Or because you’re forcing me to comply with your wishes? Is that how you like your females, Master Trevanion? Subservient and timid?”
“Sometimes,” he answered honestly.
Her eyes searched his. “I don’t think you’ll like me that way.”
His cock hardened further and the blood in his veins coursed hot and thick. His demon was an irrational taskmaster inside him. It wanted this female like it had never wanted anything before, and it didn’t care how or where. Skirts up, panties ripped off, and fucked hard right here for all to see.
But though his hands shook with hunger, Casworon still held the reins. He couldn’t allow the creature inside him nor the crowd around him such feral, voyeuristic pleasure.
“May I tell you how I would like you?” he uttered blackly.
Her pupils dilated, her lips parted and the scent of her arousal drifted up into his nostrils. “I’d rather you showed me, my lord.”
A gasp was ripped from Cas’s lungs. Who was this female? What did she have over him? Her scent, her eyes, her bold nature. He had never wanted anything or anyone more than he wanted her. And though he’d never admit to it aloud, he would’ve dropped to his knees, as his enemies might enjoy, and begged for her hand, her touch, her mouth and her climax.
“Come with me, Elia,” he breathed, taking her hand.
“Where?” she asked.
“Does it matter?”
A soft smile on her lips, she shook her head as he led her out of the ballroom. “No.”
~
The royal carriage that had whisked them away to the cottage had a glossy black exterior, steel gray leather seating, and a silent driver who handled the two white horses glistening beneath the moonlight with precision and ease. Lia sat very straight, her gaze traveling between the moors and the male sitting beside her.
Was this truth or dream? She actually wasn’t sure anymore. She had no pain, no scar. She was what she’d been before the attack. Beautiful and strong, a fighter, and a very sexual being who had no compunction in asking for or taking what she desired. And here was what she desired. Right beside her. His hand covering her own in an ongoing display of possession.