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.

“I wish to fuck you,” he said, surprising me with the bluntness of the statement. “I wish to fuck you until you scream with pleasure, and then I wish to fuck you some more.” There was power in his voice—and a promise of things I could not even begin to imagine. He pressed into me and I moaned, both at the feel of him and at the intense eroticism of his words. He gripped my thighs and began to thrust. “I wish to fuck you until you scream my name and beg me for release, beg me for more, beg me for all I can do for you … and to you.” He drove hard into me, hands clenched on my legs and mouth twisted in a snarl.

Yes. Do it. Do it all. Please! I arched my back as my climax built, breath coming in ragged sobs. His eyes glowed with potency as he continued to fuck me, never relenting, never easing. He wouldn’t, I knew. Not until he was finished with me.

The thought alone was enough to tip me over the edge. The scream of pleasure that he sought ripped from my throat as he continued to thrust into me, perfectly matching the waves of my climax. Not until I was spent and limp on the table did he slow and stop.

I took several dragging breaths as he withdrew from me. He reached and brushed his fingers over my lips, then gave a soft laugh. “Such a beautiful scream, dear one. But I did not hear my name.”

“Wait,” I panted, “I—”

He didn’t give me a chance to finish, seizing me by my wrist to yank me upright and wringing a shocked yelp from me. He lifted me effortlessly and carried me to the chair, then sat, holding me so that my back was to him. In the next breath he wrapped an arm around my neck and shoulders to pin me firmly against him. Somehow he’d rid himself of his clothing, and his skin was warm silk over steel against mine. I shuddered as he slid into me again, then moaned as his other hand slipped between my legs.

It felt like mere seconds before I was crying out and bucking in his hold. His arm was like a band of iron around me, and I clung to it desperately. “Beg for it, dearest,” he whispered in silken command as he drove me higher.

“Please …” I could barely form the word.

“Ahhh … you can do better than that. Beg.” His voice thrummed with power as his grip tightened and his pace quickened. “Beg for me to fuck you. Beg for release.”

“Please …” My voice was little more than a keening whimper as I struggled against him. “Yes, please. I … I beg you. Please … all of it!”

“Now, scream for me,” he hissed against my ear. “Scream my name. Scream for mercy.”

I did. I screamed. I screamed his name as I thrashed in his arms. I screamed and begged and wept as he gave me everything I’d asked for and more.

Chapter 25

I lay on the thick carpet, curled against Rhyzkahl’s chest as he gently stroked my hair. My body still hummed with the aftereffects of his attentions, even though some time had passed since he’d finished with me. “Finished me” might be a better way to put it, I thought wryly.

There was no doubt that Rhyzkahl was an absolutely exquisite lover. No human would ever be able to match his perception, his skill, and his restraint. He’s spoiling me for humans. Not that I was overwhelmed with offers.

But that led to thoughts of Ryan. As much as the man had hurt my feelings and infuriated me with his judgmental crap, I still … damn it … I still cared about him, even if just as a friend. And if I was going to continue with the honesty, I had to admit to myself that this whole assignation with Rhyzkahl had been little more than a grudge fuck, my way of getting back at Ryan. Great, so I said, “Nyah, nyah, I can too have sex with a demon. So there.” I sighed against Rhyzkahl’s chest. I’m so damn pathetic.

“You are troubled, dear one,” Rhyzkahl said, deep voice a rumble in my ear that was against his chest. “Were all my efforts for naught?”

I lifted my head, smiling despite myself. “Not for naught.” Then I had to keep myself from laughing at what I’d said. “It was all very, um, erotic.” I was getting a crick in my neck from looking at him from this position, so I propped myself up on my elbow beside him.

He reached out to stroke the curve of my breast. “I enjoy giving you what you desire.”

“Whether I voice it or not?”

He smiled, potency shimmering behind his eyes. “I could do so much more for you. I could fulfill those desires that you have yet to admit to yourself, that you fear. You would be safe with me.”

Gooseflesh skimmed over my body. I would be safe in most ways, this was true. But I could also see how this could be the thrall that Ryan had spoken of.

“But you are not yet ready,” he continued, withdrawing his hand. “And allowing you to experience such too soon would be harmful.” His eyes met mine, and the flare of power was unmistakable. “I will allow none to harm you.”

I sat up. “You can’t always protect me.” I reached for my shirt. “Hell, something mundane could happen to me. I could get hit by a car or fall down the stairs or get shot by a suspect.” I slid the silk on and began buttoning it. “And it’s not all about the sex, y’know.” No, sometimes it was just my feelings that got hurt.

“I could give you protection at all times, should you wish it.”

I frowned at him. “What, have you by my side 24/7?”

He shook his head. “That is not what I had in mind, nor is it feasible. I cannot neglect my own realm, else I will lose it.”

That was an interesting tidbit and the first time I’d heard him make any sort of reference to the power struggles in his own world. “Then what?”

“I would assign one of my minions to be your protector.”

I laughed. “That would make police work a bit difficult.”

He merely shrugged. “I would emphasize the need for discretion.”

Discretion? I had no idea how a demon could be discreet and still be effective. Obviously there was something I wasn’t quite grasping. I grabbed my pants and pulled them on as I stood. Besides, a full-time protector could also be seen as a full-time chaperone.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. I looked down at him. He’d made no move to dress and was still lying on his side, regarding me. Damn, but he looked good.

“You have recently been hurt,” he said. “It is why you sought comfort and distraction from me.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, then abruptly realized that he wasn’t speaking of a physical hurt. He’d sensed or read my confrontation with Ryan. I swallowed, suddenly not wanting to meet his eyes. “I … kinda had a … disagreement with a friend.”

His lip curled, and I knew he was fully aware to whom I was referring. “He disapproves of me. How ironic.”

Ironic? “What do you mean?”

“You might wonder how he knows enough to disapprove of my presence in your life.”

I had no response for that, and in fact I probably stared at Rhyzkahl for a couple dozen heartbeats as my thoughts whirled in chaotic patterns. In one simple sentence, Rhyzkahl had managed to pinpoint all of my doubts and suspicions and fears about Ryan. Because I did wonder. Why did Ryan speak like someone with a great deal of familiarity with demonkind and demonic lords? Supposedly he’d only very recently encountered one, yet Kehlirik knew him and seemed to despise him. And did Ryan even know? Maybe I’m better off without him.

I almost did it. I almost asked Rhyzkahl to tell me what he knew about Ryan, but I stopped myself before opening my mouth. Yes, I wanted to know, but I realized that I wasn’t so sure I wanted to hear it from Rhyzkahl.

Besides, there were other things I needed to know far more, and I simply couldn’t waste this opportunity. “Can you answer a question for me?”

Now he sat up and began to pull on clothing. He dressed quickly, still not answering me. Finally, when he’d finished pulling his boots on, he stood and looked at me, lowering his head, eyes on me. “Is this a boon that you ask of me?”

Shit. He hadn’t missed the fact that I had yet to agree to be “his” summoner. I took a deep breath. “At this time, yes.” I had to hide my grimace. I would be indebted to him, but for now that was preferable to being bound more securely to him. I guess the sex was a freebie.

He folded his arms across his chest. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed that I hadn’t accepted his offer yet or pleased that I would now owe him one. “What is your question?”

“Something or someone is consuming essence. When it started, the essences were taken as the victims were dying, but now it seems as if the essences are being ripped out, killing the victims. Have you ever heard of someone being able to do that?”

He was silent and still for a number of heartbeats, eyes dark upon me. “We call those creatures who feed on essence saran,” he finally said. “Essence potency is addictive. One who has the ability to utilize it will quickly grow to depend on it, will crave it more.”

“You mean it’s going to get worse?”

“I cannot say. These creatures are rare,” he continued, “no doubt because they are usually slain as soon as the ability is discovered.”

I frowned. “But what is it? Is it a human doing this?”

“It is indeed possible,” he replied, expression inscrutable.

“How?”

He lifted an eyebrow at me. “How is it that you are able to open a portal between our two worlds?”

That gave me pause. I’d been born with the ability and supposedly inherited it from my grandmother. “So it’s an arcane skill that this person is born with?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he said, sounding almost bored. “There are many humans with the ability to shape and manipulate potency. Some can open portals. Some can draw power from essence. A rare few are little more than parasites. You are all descended from the same source.”

This was something I’d never heard before. I knew that there were other people with the ability to shape arcane power, even if they weren’t able to open a portal, but I’d never heard this idea that every arcane practitioner shared some sort of great-great-grandpappy. So what was that original source? I wanted to ask him more about that, but I could already see that he was getting annoyed with the questions, and I wasn’t sure how much more he would put up with. With regret, I wrenched my thoughts back to my original track.

“How is this person getting stronger?”

“Exposure to sufficient potency. Or perhaps consumption of another essence-eater.” He lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “There are any number of ways.”