The Demon Lord’s Cloak

Chapter 5

What a delicious way to awaken. She was enveloped in warmth—Damien’s wide chest blanketing her back, his strong arm resting heavily on her waist, his fingers rubbing the nubbin between her legs just hard enough to make the pleasant ache between her thighs throb again.

She murmured and nestled her bottom closer, moaning when his sex slipped deeper inside her.

Voletta held her breath until he started rocking softly against her, stroking his cock gently into her. She let loose a ragged moan, and her nipples sprouted, pressing into her palms as she cupped herself.

Soon, she couldn’t help but pulse backward to meet his thrusts, luxuriating in the drag and push that heated her channel. She felt consumed by the heat he built—and connected to the man in more than just a physical way. Damien seemed to understand precisely what she needed.

The joyful experience of being with him tempered her impatience to quit this place in haste. But, of course, remaining here was still out of the question.

There was a part of her she would never be able to share. He might live in an enchanted castle where everything he wished for appeared, but he expected a human bride, a human woman, as his companion.

However selfish it might seem, she was willing to linger here a little while longer and explore their budding relationship. She knew exactly where her pelt was and could escape at any time. So why not enjoy this interlude and leave them both with memories to savor?

She gave her nipple a final tweak, then reached behind her to cup the back of his head as she arched her back to press her buttocks tighter against his groin. “Deeper,” she moaned, “I need you to move deeper.”

“It may be how we’re positioned,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll have to pull out.”

“No, I couldn’t bear that,” she whimpered. “Just please, more .”

He groaned and shifted behind her, his torso moving away from her back while his cock remained embedded inside her. Then his hand was on her leg, lifting it higher, and he slid a thick, muscled thigh between hers, opening her so wide he could buck deeper between her legs…and it was enough. More than enough.

With his fingers still swirling, pressing, rolling on the knot of bundled sensation, she crept closer to the precipice. Tension curled low in her belly. Her breaths shortened until she panted. She couldn’t move, couldn’t help him, could only feel as he held her splayed open and pounded inside her.

She felt only twinges of discomfort from their previous joining. She burned inside, her tissues stretched and abused by the girth of him and his quickening movements as he dragged his cock in and out of her, pushing ever deeper, yearning toward her womb.

When he plucked her clitoris, she hurtled toward the darkness, light dimming at the edges of her vision, narrowing her focus.

Toward the end, she knew she screamed. She thought she might have howled.

However, Damien was relentless. He didn’t let her escape gracefully into the rapture. He continued to move inside her, spurring the tension impossibly higher until it swirled and coiled, and she felt as though she would never return to herself. She hovered beyond the edge, her body shuddering.

His hoarse shout rang in her ears as he jerked against her. Hot, fiery liquid jetted deep inside her. Only when the last clumsy pulses ended, and he snuggled against her back, closing her legs to hold his cock firmly inside her again, did the coil within her fully unwind.

When her breath returned to her, she whispered, “Is there anything more beautiful?”

“I’ve never had the likes of this before,” he said softly.

She smiled, hoping it was true. She wanted to see his face. “I wish I could turn, but I don’t want to let you go.”

“I think I should come out of you, my dear. You need time to recover.” He pulled away, leaving her empty, letting liquid gush from her channel to wet her thighs.

“I’m sticky.”

“I have a cloth.” And without moving from the bed, he produced a warm, wet cloth and scooped it between her legs, washing her gently and letting the heat ease her aching flesh.

When he’d finished, he turned her onto her back and stretched alongside her. He laid his chest across hers and looked down, cupping her face and rasping his thumb across her bottom lip.

With his dark hair tumbling around his face and his darker gaze locking with hers, she knew part of her already belonged to him.

While she knew she had to leave, she began to think that perhaps he wouldn’t mind if, once in a while, she returned to renew their acquaintance. Their reunions would be joyous, something to be anticipated. She wouldn’t think about their many partings.

She lifted a hand to his cheek. “Kiss me,” she said, surprised to find she felt like crying.

When his lips brushed hers softly, she knew she was falling in love because she couldn’t imagine ever tasting another kiss as sweet.

“What are you thinking now?” he asked.

Rather than give him an awkward truth, she quipped, “I’m thinking how well you look without your clothes.”

He snorted laughter, and his eyes filled with merriment. “I think I’m supposed to say that.”

She grinned. “I will never lie to you.

“Will you ever tell me the full truth?”

She kept silent, knowing he read the regret in her expression.

Thankfully, his smile dimmed only slightly. “I suppose I have my secrets, too. You should rest.”

“I’m really not tired, and I think I probably need to move around a bit, or I’ll ache worse later,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

Damien’s brows lifted and settled. A mischievous look settled over his face. “Come for a walk with me?”

She nodded, eager to put some distance from this bed where she was tempted to linger.

After she’d dressed in clothing hanging conveniently from another hook on the wall, Damien brought her outside the keep, taking a dirt path into a wooded area. Mist still hovered close to the ground, blotting out the sunshine, but the day was warm. As they moved deeper into the copse, Voletta gave Damien curious glances, wondering what he seemed so determined to show her.

His glance stayed on the path in front of them, and his hand cupped her elbow, guiding her as though she were something precious.

When he halted, she dragged her gaze from his face to look around her, and her breath caught. He’d brought her to a tiny paradise. A pond lay in the center of a clearing with a willow draped over one side, a branch dipping into the water, its fronds like lazy fingers gliding on the surface. Lacy ferns and delicate orchids blanketed the ground surrounding the path, all the way up to the bank of short grass that ringed the pond and stopped at the water’s edge.

Voletta was tempted once again. A breeze tugged at her hairandpulled at her gown, urging her closer to the water.

Damien lifted a hand to the ties at the side of her bliaut. At her nod, he undid them and swept the fabric over her head. Before he could reach for her again, she danced away and pulled her undergown off, then stepped into the shallows.

The water was surprisingly warm and felt like silk as it lapped around her ankles.

“It’s deep enough for a swim,” Damien said, his gaze sweeping over her nude body.

“Join me?” she asked, already turning away to walk deeper into the water.

“I’ll watch.”

She glanced over her shoulder to find his stare resting on her body. “Afraid you’ll melt?”

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself from taking you again.”

“In the water?” The thought tantalized. Would she ever tire of exploring the many ways they could make love? “Is that one of those hundred different ways?”

One side of his mouth rose in a smirk. “I can think of at least a half dozen acts we could accomplish quite nicely.”

She bit her lip, wanting to ask him to explain, but he shook his head and lowered himself to the grass. “I’ll be here when you come out.”

Voletta dove toward the center of the pond, pushing deep beneath the surface, twisting over and over as she glided through the water. As she came up for air, she tossed back her hair and gasped, letting out a little laugh.

When she caught sight of Damien, he was lowering himself to the ground again.

“Did you think I’d drowned?” she asked, treading water.

“I was calling myself a fool for not making sure you knew how to swim.”

“Of course, I know how.” She lay back, floating on the surface and letting the water fan her hair around her. “I could spend hours in the water.”

“The pond is to your liking?” he asked, his voice muffled by the water.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, staring up into the willow. “Almost perfect.”

“Almost? What’s missing? I’ll change it.”

She turned her face toward him. “You’re too far away.”

“You could come here.”

“Then I’d have to leave the water. I’d be cold.”

“I’d warm you.”

She stared back up again, smiling at the deepening rumble of his voice. He was becoming aroused. “Then you’d have to show me one of those ‘acts.’”

Warm water lapped along her body as she floated, lulling her into drowsiness. When a hand smoothed over her ankle, she was too at ease to startle. “I like this,” she said, opening her eyes to find him naked and standing in the deep water beside her.

“Thought you might.”

She let her body drift upright and tread closer to him.

Within arms reach, he snagged her waist and pulled her close. “Wind your legs around my waist.”

She dipped her chin and smiled, then complied with his command. Her body drifted against his, her breasts skimming his slick chest. When she wound her legs around him, her sex opened, scraping against the silky hairs on his lower abdomen. Voletta grabbed his shoulders and rubbed her body against him.

His cock bobbed against her bottom, and she guessed what new act he considered before his hands closed around the soft globes, lifting her high enough to position his cock at her entrance.

She drew a deep breath and snuggled her face into the crook of his neck as he guided her down his shaft and back up. “Does one ever tire of this?” she groaned.

“Never, if one does it right.”

“I think you have the knack of it,” she said, squeezing her inner muscles around him.

“And I’m blessed,” he gasped, moving her up and down faster. “You’re gifted, love.”

She threw back her head and groaned. “I think you’re just easily pleased.”

His grunt, so masculine and amused, encouraged her to move, to take him. She gripped his shoulders hard and pulled herself up, then released, countering the movements of his hips as he plunged into her.

The water churned between them, splashing around them as they strained against each other. Voletta couldn’t look away from him. His jaw tightened, giving him a fierce, hungry expression. His cheeks darkened; his eyes narrowed. When his fingers dug hard into her bottom, she moaned, knowing she’d sport two rows of crescent bruises.

When, at last, their passion crested, they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying together in the water.

“We’re in the open,” Voletta said. “Anyone could see us.”

“What a silly thing to say. You know there’s no one here but us.”

“And the ghosts.”

His hand paused its soothing motion on her back. “You’ve seen them?”

She nodded.

“You aren’t frightened of them?”

“They haven’t tried to harm me. They seem to serve your needs.”

“Our needs.” His lips brushed her forehead.

“Should I fear them?”

“No.” His gaze stared into hers. “Come, let’s leave the water.”

Although reluctant to break the connection, she unhooked her feet and let her legs drift down. Before she could bob beneath the surface, he picked her up in his arms and strode to the grassy bank.

Towels lay beside their clothing, and Voletta stood silently while he patted her dry.

“Do the ghosts ever leave this place?” she asked, when he’d finished and tossed the towels to the side.

“Never,” he said, his voice clipped. “They serve this keep. They are enslaved to it.”

Voletta shivered and drew on her chemise. “And what about you?”

The towel he scrubbed across his chest stilled. “I am imprisoned here.” He said it matter-of-factly, without inflection, which told her how much emotion lay beneath the bald words.

Even though she knew it caused him pain, she persisted, wanting to understand. “But you’ve been outside the gates. You brought me inside.”

“I can only go as far as the post.” His gaze met hers, empty, emotionless. “And only once every hundred years.”

“Once every hundred years…?” A chill prickled her skin. “What are you?” she whispered.

He grimaced. “Most women prefer not to know. They prefer to believe I’m a human man trapped inside this castle. They pretend not to notice I never age.”

“I’m not most women. I know there’s something special about you as there is about this place.”

He turned away, stepping into his chausses, then pulled his undertunic over his head.

She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “Please, I really want to know.”

His head fell back, and he closed his eyes. “My name is Damien, Lord Malphas. Is that name familiar to you?”

Of course, it was. She’d been raised a Catholic before she’d come into her skin. “Malphas was one of the angels who descended from heaven. One of the fallen angels.”

He turned to spear her with his hard, black gaze. “Yes, I was.”

Her head canted, her gaze trying to discern whether he was telling the truth. “Malphas was Hell’s builder. He constructed fortifications.”

He raised his hands, staring at his palms. “I built extraordinary things, magical things, but when my brother and I fell out, I was imprisoned here.”

Her eyes widened. “In one of your own creations?” At his nod, she said, “That’s diabolical!”

The corners of his lips twitched. “My brother’s known for his imagination, among other things.”

“So, you’re a…devil?”

“Not a very precise term. It doesn’t alarm you?”

Alarm her? She’d been told the fallen angels were evil, bent on tempting mankind into betraying their faith so that they could be drawn into Hell. Her legs quivered, but she lifted her chin, refusing to let him see her fear. “Where are your wings?”

“Taken. When I was banished here.”

“Why were you banished?”

“Because I grew bored with the depravity around me. I dared to criticize. You didn’t answer my question. Are you afraid now that you know the truth?”

Voletta sighed, letting the tension leave her body. Her answer mattered to him. Could he be so evil if he cared what she thought? “Well,” she said, slowly, not entirely sure what she thought, “you’ve been kind to me…”

“I’ve kept you here against your will.”

She arched a brow. “Are you trying to remind me why I should be frightened?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes, which were dark and watchful. “You promised to speak only the truth.”

“If I choose not to speak, will you nag me to death?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know.” She couldn’t restrain her humor. “I’m arguing with a demon. Doesn’t that tell you something about me?”

“It only tells me you may be addled, which I’m beginning to suspect is true.”

She snorted. “I’m not mad, just…curious. But I will tell you, I don’t fear you’ll grow horns and devour me.” She gave him a glance from under her lashes when she realized she didn’t know for sure that wasn’t true. “Will you?”

His laughter, full-throated and hearty, warmed her. “Voletta, I sport no horns, other than the one that rises to your goading.”

Her gaze dropped down his body, then flew back up when she got his meaning. She sniffed and turned her back to hide the heat rising in her cheeks. “I’m glad my ignorance amuses you.”

“Your innocence pleases me.” His arms came around her, drawing her back against his chest. “I would know that I don’t frighten you.”

At the soft intensity of his tone, she let the stiffness of her posture melt away and leaned against him. “Perhaps I’m just a bit worn out, but I’m not frightened. Nor am I truly surprised. I’m not sure any surprises can exceed the ones you’ve already shown me.”

She slid her hands over the arms crossed on herbelly and hugged him. “So, you are trapped inside here, and yet, how do the…things come? The ones you wish for. Do they move from one place to another, or are they created from thin air?”

“That bit of magic I’m not sure of,” he said, his breath gusting softly against her neck. “I hired a mage to create it. They are notoriously secretive about their methods.”

“You have a castle where all your needs are met. Beautiful gardens to walk inside—”

“A horse to ride—”

“You have a horse?” So, he wasn’t entirely alone. “And then you’ve had women, like me, provided by the village. How often?”

“Once every hundred years.”

“And when they die?”

“Then I am alone.”

“How long since your last companion?”

“Nearly sixty years.”

Sixty years since he’d had anyone to speak to or to touch. She understood now the stark loneliness in his gaze. “What I don’t understand is how you had the patience to be so gentle with me. You must have been desperate.”

He laughed.

“Well, now you will have me,” she said, squeezing his arms, “and I can make trips outside the gate and bring you back wonderful things no mage’s magic can bring you.”

His body stiffened behind her, and his arms fell away. When she turned to stare up at him, his smile slipped away. The alertness entering his expression alarmed her.

“What haven’t you told me?” she asked, her heart tripping.

“The gate is only open for three days.”

“Three days…and then what?”

“The path beyond it disappears.”

“I’ll be trapped with you?”

“A moment ago, that hardly seemed a terrible thought, did it?”

Voletta noted the tension evident in the thinning of his lips and the wistful expression in his eyes. She didn’t want to feel empathy for him, didn’t want to worry about how lonely he must have been—would be again—when she was gone. Had he wooed her only to ensure her submission?

Or did he truly care about her? Could she take the risk that he’d only been kind to ensure her cooperation?

His hand reached out, but she pulled back before he could touch her face.

She stared at him, accusing him.

His hand slowly dropped to his side, and his shoulders straightened. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts,” he said. “I’m going to ride my horse.”

She walked away from him, following the path out of the woods until it intersected the road that led away from the keep to the iron gate. Her gaze went to the tall stone walls that stretched as far as she could see.

“You’ll never get over it,” he said, from just behind her. “And the gate won’t open unless I command it to.”

Tightness filled her chest as though a hand clutched her heart and a band had encircled her ribs. She couldn’t catch a deep enough breath. It might already be too late, but she had to try to escape. “I have to go back inside. I have to rest,” she said, not looking at him.

“I understand. I’ll see you later.”

She gave him a jerking nod, swept up her skirts, and began to walk toward the keep, but the urgency that filled her had her breaking into a run. By the time she reached the steps leading into the keep, she was crying.