The Demon Lord’s Cloak

Chapter 4

Damien stared at Voletta, thinking about how she’d worded her consent. The woman still hoped to escape. Although he was disappointed, her continued resistance served as a gauntlet thrown down to spur his efforts to woo her. “Kiss me.”

She blinked, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “I thought you were leading.”

“I am. I just ordered you to kiss me.”

A ragged little breath escaped her lips as she leaned toward him. Her nipples touched his chest. Her mouth an inch from his, she halted.

Damien lifted one eyebrow. “It’s just a kiss.”

“Somehow…” she said, her voice breathless, “it’s become so much more intimate.”

“As it should, between lovers.”

“I’m participating now?”

“Kiss me,” he said, closing his eyes.

Her mouth touched his lightly at first, then her soft, wet lips opened, and she mouthed his lower lip, moving it beneath hers as though discovering his texture.

Damien didn’t move, holding his breath while she moved her mouth andthen circled her head to deepen her kiss. He didn’t open his eyes until she drew back.

“You aren’t helping,” she complained.

“You were doing the kissing. Why should I?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Because I’m obviously not very good at it.”

With their faces close together, sharing the same pillow, he’d never felt this content to simply talk with a woman. “You were wonderful,” he said quietly.

“I was?”

“Try using your tongue now.”

“I didn’t think of that.”

“I could hardly think of anything else.”

“You like my tongue?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Did you like mine?”

She frowned at him while color once again brightened her cheeks.

“You liked it a little too much, hmmm?”

She went for his lips, likely to halt the embarrassing conversation, and kissed him again, this time opening her lips and prodding his with her tongue.

Laughing softly into her mouth, he let her take her time to explore, enjoying the touch of her hot tongue as it lapped along his andthen trailed the roof of his mouth and the edges of his teeth until she grew breathless and leaned away.

“You should breathe through your nose.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” she said, gasping.

Next time. A slip, he was sure.

“What shall we do now?” she asked.

“Must you always know what’s coming? Don’t you like surprises?”

She shrugged. “Most surprises hold more than a hint of danger.”

“What dangers are there here? I hold no weapons.”

Her gaze slid down his body, then slowly back up.

Her pointed gaze made his lips twitch. “It is a weapon of pleasure. What other dangers?”

Her expression saddened, andthen she jutted out her chin. “I might lose my breath.”

“Do you fear losing yourself?”

“I don’t like giving over control…forgetting what I am about.”

“Is that a danger here…with me?”

She nodded, revealing a raw vulnerability in her gaze that drew him closer.

He lifted his hand and smoothed over the indention of her waist to her hip and back again. Then, slowly, he brought it around her chest and caressed her breast. Her pink nipple dragged across his palm, and he paused to give her breast a gentle squeeze.

Her eyes closed as she sucked air between her teeth. “Again?”

He caressed the soft globe, rubbing his thumb over the distended tip, teasing it, working her flesh until her breaths came faster. “Would you like more?”

“Please.”

He liked that word coming from her and swept his arm around her to pull her higher and nuzzle her tender breast with his nose and mouth.

Slowly, her fingers combed through his hair, and he deepened his caresses, opening his mouth to swallow as much of her small breast as he could.

“Yes, like that.”

He moved his hand from her hip and slid it between them, spearing a finger between the folds of her moist sex, seeking the nubbin that bloomed hard and throbbing. He circled it as he circled his mouth, using his tongue to rasp her nipple and his thumb to scrape her clitoris. Then he thrust a finger inside her narrow channel.

“Oh, dear God,” she gasped but didn’t draw her hips away. They stilled, and she lifted her uppermost thigh, giving him greater access to her sex.

Damien stroked in and out, swirling his fingers in her liquid heat, rolling his knuckles against her inner walls to increase the friction.

Soon, her hips were rocking forward and back as she moaned softly, forgetting herself at last.

Damien’s own body reacted harshly to her growing pleasure; his balls drew so close and tight to his groin that he, too, had to lift his own thigh to give them space. His cock, tucked against her thigh, throbbed in time to his quickening heart.

He had to have her, had to bury himself inside her heat and slide into the cream he’d drawn from deep inside her. His mouth still filled with her soft breast, he removed his finger from inside her and drew one of her small hands from his hair to carry it downward, coaxing her to wrap it tightly around his shaft.

With his hand guiding hers, he moved it up and down, showing her how he needed to be touched. When her grip tightened around him, he left her to explore while he raked through the curling hairs covering her mons and thrust two fingers inside her.

While he rocked his hips to glide his cock inside her grasp, he stroked his fingers into her, again and again, until they both strained toward each other.

He came off her breast, keeping only the nipple between his teeth, and chewed it softly, tugging and pulling at it until she whimpered sweetly above him.

Soon, it wasn’t enough. Damien rolled them until he settled on top of her.

Voletta’s mouth was slackened, her cheeks a fiery red, her eyes slightly glazed with passion.

“I will enter you now,” he said, remembering to give her warning. “Raise your knees.”

Voletta didn’t question, didn’t demur; she simply bent her quivering thighs, bringing them up to frame his hips.

He bent over her and kissed her, then reached between them to guide his cock into her entrance. When the head nudged inside her, he spread her folds with his fingers and began to circle his hips, slowly screwing into her, stretching the barrier guarding her sex, pulsing softly, and entering her a fraction of an inch at a time, but still not completely.

Her hands gripped the bedding, and she started to constrict around him again.

“Love, breathe deeply. Don’t be afraid.”

She drew in deep, ragged breaths, releasing them in mewling sighs as he pushed inside.

Damien knew he’d never felt anything so wonderful, so powerful in his entire existence as the warm, melting heat of her against the tip of his cock. Her trembling lips, her trustful gaze gave him the strength to hold back from plunging as deep as his cock insisted. For a time at least…

When the thickness of his shaft stretched the tender membrane further, he stopped. His arms and thighs shook with need, but he waited until her gaze locked with his.

“Why did you stop?”

“I’m afraid I can no longer be gentle.”

Her eyes rounded. “Oh!”

Once more, he gathered her thighs beneath his arms, tilting her hips to receive him. Planting his hands on the mattress, he rose over her.

When he’d arranged them both to his liking, he breathed deeply. “Are you ready? Shall I stop?” He prayed she wouldn’t say yes because he knew he couldn’t.

“Will there be much pain?”

“’Tis slight and soon over.”

“How do you know?”

“Experience.” He wouldn’t mention the nearly hundred maidenheads he’d pierced.

“I think you should hurry.”

“Why?”

“The more time you waste talking, the more worried I’m becoming.”

Damien closed his eyes and drew back his hips, then plunged forward, tearing the thin membrane as he drove deep into Voletta’s body.

She gave a sharp, strangled scream and clawed at his back.

But Damien couldn’t stop now. His hips lunged, thrusting deeper each time, tunneling down until his groin met hers, and he couldn’t reach any further. Her moist, tight cunt enveloped him, clenching tightly around his shaft.

He was lost in sensation, gliding forward and back, past all thoughts of the woman beneath him or her mewling, desperate cries.

Voletta dug her fingernails into Damien’s back, trying to hold onto his wildly heaving body, the first sharp pain of penetration forgotten as friction built inside her with each deep thrust. With his thick cock crammed deep into her passage, he consumed her breath and mind.

The gentle teasing man was gone, replaced by a fierce, straining warrior bent on ravaging her body.

She’d seen the moment he’d lost himself. His black eyes closed, his body tensing as he’d poised inside her then backed out and slammed deep.

After she’d gotten over the shock of it, the ferocity of his taking, she’d thought the worst was over. The pain, although considerable, had faded instantly beneath the violent, pounding thrusts that followed. Her entire body jolted with each stroke, her back sliding up the mattress.

This raw, fierce pummeling frightened her—and thrilled her beyond anything she’d ever known.

Holding onto Damien was like riding out a thunderstorm with the rain lashing at her body in gales.

Sure she couldn’t take a moment more without fainting as she gasped for air, he drew out of her abruptly.

Before she could voice a protest, he flipped her onto her belly, dragged her hips upward, and once again, worked his way inside her from behind with short, hard bursts.

Voletta came up on her hands, pressing backward, countering his thrusts with pushes of her own, helping him sink deeper, reveling in the way he stretched her and burned her inner passage.

She threw back her head, arching her back, finding she could take him all the way to her womb. As his cock stroked inward, the hard, quick thrusts slapped her bottom, her flesh warming inside and out.

When his fingers dug deep into her bottom, she strained along with him, recognizing now the journey’s end. When it caught her, she yelped and grew rigid, unable to move as the exquisite tension burst, and she was hurled headlong beyond herself.

As she crumpled to the bed, Damien following her down, she wondered if she’d ever have the strength to loose the bond he’d slipped around her heart.

Struggling to regain his breath and his unraveled mind, Damien blew hot against the back of Voletta’s damp neck. Their bodies still connected, their flesh sharing the sweat of their efforts, he felt weak, seared by the brilliant blaze of passion that had swept them both away.

The waning pulses that rippled along his cock felt like the gentle stroke of her fingers, soothing away the last of the storm that had overtaken him.

Damnation! He’d wanted to be gentle.

Determined to do the right thing now, he began to roll away from her, but she squeezed her legs together, trapping his cock inside her.

“I’m crushing you,” he said.

“You aren’t. Now, hush until I can catch my breath.”

Bemused, Damien settled over her and slipped an arm beneath her belly to cradle her closer.

After a time, her breaths evened, and she drew deeply, sighing on the exhalation. “How remarkable. I find I am still alive.”

Damien grinned behind her. “You doubted?”

“I thought the first time that my heart had stopped. This time, I hurtled outside myself. I’m quite done in.” A yawn followed, and she nestled her bottom closer to his groin. “S’nice.”

It was indeed nice…and disturbing. Things were moving quickly between them. As a man who’d had centuries to ponder the slightest changes in his life, this little red-haired whirlwind had unsettled him in only half a day.

He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the strengthened scent of her. An unusual musk—like grass and rain…and furred animal. “You should rest. When you awaken, I’ll take you for a walk.”

“Mmmm…will you stay with me?” she asked sleepily.

“For a while…”

She sighed and soon drifted off to sleep, her breaths deepening.

Damien rolled to his side, bringing her with him, his cock still lodged inside her. Spooned together, his arm around her narrow waist, he was content to lie beside her. Now that she didn’t distract him with conversation, and his own desire was sated for a time, he thought back upon the morning.

Voletta. Not a German name at all. French. He wondered if she could be a product of the plain villagers who’d served him buxom women all these years.

Perhaps she was a changeling among them. He could well imagine how she would stand out. Had they offered her because she was so different from them? The women he’d had before were plain-looking, plain-spoken, andalmost coarse in their appearance and language. Simple folk.

Beyond her appearance, Voletta’s actions and words also set her apart. Although he’d been without a human companion for decades, his conversations with them had been remarkable only in how unmemorable they had been.

However, Voletta’s sweet innocence and amusing insights lingered.

I’d like exactly the same thing again! He smiled, remembering the intensity of her excitement when she’d been ready to embark on their next round of lovemaking.

Damien pressed a kiss against her shoulder, intending to leave her to her rest. Instead, he dragged his lips along her soft skin and glided his hand upward from her belly to cup her breast.

Small, round, and softer than any peach he could wish for, it filled his palm. He traced his forefinger around the velvety areola, noting the difference in texture between it and the skin surrounding it. He realized he could spend hours touching and exploring her sweet body.

The nipple beaded, and he rolled it between his fingers. Hot silken fluid bathed his cock, still tucked within her body. Even in sleep, she responded to him.

Not the least tired, his body roused. His cock filled slowly, nudging deeper, stretching her walls.

He should pull out. He’d used her sorely. She required time to recover. There were other acts he could perform to assuage the heaviness settling in his loins.

Instead, bastard that he was, he rutted against her, softly at first, trying not to disturb her sleep but needing to feel her walls clench around him again.

And they did. As well, her legs scissored together and apart, small movements that, nonetheless, dragged on the part of his shaft not embedded in her sweet flesh.

“Voletta,” he whispered.

She murmured sleepily but didn’t waken.

Cursing himself and his wayward cock, he tried to hold himself still, but her cunt closed and relaxed, milking him softly.

Too softly. He needed to move, needed to thrust himself against her. He buried his face in the corner of her neck and gritted his teeth. His hand squeezed the breast he palmed harder.

“Ummmmm,” she moaned and slowly awoke. He knew the moment she realized what was happening because she covered his hand with hers.

“I wanted to leave you alone,” he said, trying to stir up a little regret. “To let you rest.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Are you sore?”

She gasped, then softly replied, “Yes, but I think you’d cause me greater discomfort if you didn’t continue.”

“Lift your thigh onto mine.”

She did so immediately.

He reached between her legs and slid his fingers around her sex, pulling apart the lips that framed his cock to ease the friction. Then he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them before returning them to play with the little button at the top of her lips.

He swirled his fingers over it, listening to her hissing breath to gauge how hard to rub. Soon, he got it just right because she moaned and moved her hips, inviting him to deepen his shallow strokes inside her.

“You should play with your breasts,” he whispered in her ear.

“I should?”

“Pinch them for me.”

He flicked her earlobe with his tongue. “The tips?”

“Yes.”

Although he couldn’t see her do it, the catch of her breath and the deeper roll of her hips told him she obeyed.

“Do you think you can take more of me?” he asked.

“I think I’ll die if you do not.”