Pure anxiety.
Akila didn't think she'd experience it again ever since her mother's death. Her gaze darted to the clock on the mantel. It was half past seven and still no sign of Zagan. Restless anticipation churned like a pool of acid in her stomach. Even though Bennu brought her dinner — warm leek soup, roast chicken with apples and fennel and dessert was a generous serving of sticky toffee pudding — she couldn't eat a bite, her appetite cowered by nerves.
Moving to the window, her fingers fidgeted the taffeta drapes. Despite her mother's early death when she was fourteen, Akila wasn't ignorant about the marriage bed. Her sisters had been more than willing to share, much to her embarrassment and once she'd caught a serving maid and footman fornicating inside a closet. She still remembered the pained moans and persistent thumping that led her to them. How foolish she'd felt after realizing those were cries of passion and not pain.
Regardless of the maid's distinct pleasure, Akila couldn't dispel the fear of one's first time.
"It all depends on the man," Sevia once said. "A skilled and patient lover would know how to prepare you and ease the pain. Gradually, you'll come to enjoy it, and even more so when there are feelings involved. To please one's partner is natural when you care for them."
Her cheeks heated at the vivid imagery of Zagan attempting to touch her...to please her. That right belonged to Ywain, and yet it was being taken — again — by this demon. Consumed by her thoughts, she neither heard the soft click of the door nor the padded footsteps from behind.
"The first time we met you were equally lost in your thoughts. I'd wondered what you were thinking about, to have forgotten your surroundings." A soft breath tickled the fine hairs on her nape.
She squeaked and whirled around. Zagan was here — and he was standing too close! Instinctively, she backed into the wall, banging her head in the process. "Ouch!" Her eyes smarted with tears.
"At least this time it's not a fountain," he chuckled, pulling her into his arms. "Are you alright? Come, let me have a look." His touch was surprisingly gentle, as if he truly cared if she was hurt. It unsettled her, while her insides warmed — unbidden.
"It's your fault for standing so close. Haven't you ever heard of personal space?" she muttered, becoming aware that he was garbed only in a quilted brocade robe. His bare chest stared back at her. With a hard shove, she forced a polite distance between their bodies. "I-I'm fine, there's nothing to be concerned about."
"I'm only ensuring that my meal doesn't bleed out before I indulge," he indelicately reminded her of his reason for being there. "I apologize to have kept you waiting. There was a matter that required my immediate attention."
"Mara?" she blurted out, mentally chastising herself for acting so transparent.
Zagan crossed the room to the liquor cabinet, his lips smirking with male arrogance. "No, not Mara. There was a rebellion in town I had to personally deal with it. I didn't wish to greet you covered in someone else's blood, so I took a bath before coming here."
His thoughtfulness made her shiver in...delight? Affection? She couldn't name this strange feeling. His words sounded intimate — as if he were a man returning to his woman and wanted to spare her the offensive details. She observed silently as he poured two fingers of aged whiskey.
He offered her one. "Drink this, it will help."
"Help with what?" She feigned ignorance, arching a challenging brow.
He studied her while taking a long sip. Those cool, silver eyes saw too much. "If you prefer, we can forego this and begin to satisfy our mutual pleasure."
"Doubtless, demon." Akila snatched the whiskey from him and downed the contents in a single gulp, taken aback by the burning trail of fire down her throat.
A sharp gasp!
"What was that?" She coughed uncontrollably, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "It's absolutely horrid!"
Zagan didn't bother to hide his laughter. "You're not only a virgin in body but also in life."
Her brows snapped together; her apprehension forgotten. "What's that supposed to mean? Do you assume you're a master of life?" Curiosity spiked out of the anger. "How old are you anyway?"
"I'm very much older than you," he replied, relieving the glass from her. "I was born in the slums and abandoned the moment I took my first breath. That was how my hardship began." His amusement now tempered by the shadow of his past.
Shock drained the tension in her muscles. She blinked. "You were abandoned?"
She couldn't imagine this ruthless demon as a boy — helpless and alone. It left an impression of what he must have suffered to become who he was today. Her heart ached. Sympathy arose, even though she knew it would be unwelcomed. Zagan seemed like he would bite off the head of anyone who dared pity him.
Anguish filled her golden eyes.
Zagan realized he had said too much. His past was a sore spot he didn't like to speak of, but he supposed there was no harm. Deep down, in the cobweb corner of his heart, he wanted her to be curious about him. Knowingly, he hoped it would keep her mind off sex — for now.
"My mother was a noblewoman who was raped by a demon, and I was the result of that harrowing experience. From what I heard; she hated the thought of bearing a half-demon child to the point where she attempted to kill herself — countless times." A sarcastic snicker. "Obviously, that never happened. So, when the time came, she secretly gave birth to me in the fifth region — the lowest of slums. While I drew my first breath, she bundled me up and threw me away. Days later, I was discovered — half-dead and starving — by a waste scavenger, whom I later knew as mother."
The detachment in his voice made her tilt her head. "Were you not close to her?"
"Yes, and no." He came closer, his fingers seeking a lock of her hair. Zagan couldn't fathom the peace he felt just by touching her. It was an addictive feeling. "Mother was barren, and I was her chance at reliving an abandoned dream. Unfortunately, poverty isn't ideal to raise a child. Five years later, the husband developed a gambling habit and the family fell into debt. He owed some crooks money and they started coming to the house to demand payback. By then, the husband had ran off with his mistress and left his wife to bear the consequences. She was raped and murdered, and I was sold into slavery." His expression was a canvas of bitter contempt, his lips curled in a vicious snarl.
Akila noticed how he referred to his adoptive parents like a bystander — impersonal and distant. He held no affection for them.
"It's amazing how much a demon halfling is worth in the slave market. Demons are prized higher than humans because we are physically stronger, and harder to kill — the better to work us to death," he said with wintry softness that disguised all hint of feeling.
"If you're half-demon, doesn't that mean you only inherited half a true demon's strength?" She met the agonizing silver of his eyes.
"Don't be mistaken, little lamb." His fingers crushed the dark strands of her hair. "I may be a halfling but that doesn't change the fact that I drink blood to survive. It's the essence of our strength. One feeding alone empowers me with the strength of ten men. I've crawled my way out of the gutter, slaving away for decades to buy back my bonds. In the end, I killed my master and made a new life for myself. I realized at an early age, the cruelty of humans and how you treat us like tools to be discarded once we've lost our value. Even your pets have more rights than we do."
"That isn't true!" she denied vehemently.
Long fingers caged her neck, not suffocating but with enough strength to make her flinch. His eyes flashed with lethal focus, and he sneered. "Isn't it, though? You've proven to me once in the dungeons. You called us disgusting creatures, and I know you hate me for killing your sire."
"I was referring to your actions! Not what you are! The way you murdered people without remorse and all those lives gone because you believe you're justified to kill! If you were human, I'd still call you disgusting for the evil you've done!" she cried, her breath burning her lungs and her nostrils flared. "And I was beyond angry — and in pain. Sometimes people say things they don't mean in the heat of anger." She closed her eyes briefly, genuine sorrow entering her voice. "If my words were responsible for hurting you, then please accept my sincerest apology. I'm sorry, Zagan...sorry for all the hurt you've experienced. I'm sorry for how you were treated, and I'm sorry there was no one brave enough to understand you."
The demon appeared startled, like a deer being hunted in the woods. A myriad of emotions crossed his face — resentment, pain, confusion, and disbelief...a tiny flicker of hope. His grasp relaxed. Zagan hadn't realised that all this time he was waiting for an apology. Like a balm, it soothed his raging soul if only just a fraction. It was unbelievable. And it made him extremely uneasy and conflicted.
"I'm sorry," she repeated softly — in earnest. Her golden eyes implored him to soften, her trembling fingers grazed the smooth, warm skin of his chest — offering comfort.
Something inside Zagan snapped. Her gentleness was too much. In the spur of moment, pain contorted his face and he yanked her forward, smashing their lips together. Her eyes widened, body stiffening with alarm from the unanticipated kiss. Zagan hooked an arm around her back and propelled her up against the wall, his wide shoulders caging her in.
When she refused to open her mouth, he started to give her sensuous licks that made her knees shake. Akila was grateful for his support now as he rocked his hips into hers, the movement oddly erotic and it made her gasp when a zing of pleasure shot down her spine.
Zagan wrapped her long hair around his fist, trapping her head and swallowing her building moan as their tongues tangled. It pleased him that the little lamb was untouched because he was going to be the one to break her in — to awaken her sexuality. An actual growl reverberated in his chest, and he broke away, hauling Akila to the edge of the bed. His elongated fangs ached to pierce through soft skin, but he forced himself to be patient. He'd waited this long...what were a few minutes more?
"Undress," he ordered brusquely, his voice rough with desire.
Akila blinked like a new-born, her mind spinning with sensations. "W-What?"
"I warned you that your actions today will not go unpunished. Now undress or I'll do it for you. In my current condition I'm incapable of being gentle."
Afraid for herself but more fearful of the demon before her, Akila nervously untied the ribbon at her waist and unbuttoned her dress, allowing it to slide off her shoulders and pool gracefully to the floor. Standing in nothing but a translucent shift that barely concealed her hardened nipples, her arms lifted to cover herself.
"Don't. Move your arms away," he growled, his eyes devouring every inch of skin, dropping to the rosy tips of her rounded breasts. He licked his lips. "Now untie your hair."
The predator within him watched as her lustrous sable locks were freed from its constraint, flowing over her slim shoulders, and curling down to her waist. He noticed the shiver that racked her body. "Lie down on the bed."
"What are you going to do?" Her shaky voice spilled out, her fear perfuming the air.
"Don't make me repeat myself, Akila." He nudged her down by the stomach, relishing the mixture of alarm and curiosity in those amber depths.
Laid out flat on her back, she released a short cry when he grabbed her inner thighs, shoved her shift up to her stomach and none too gently tugged her to the edge of the bed until her legs were draped over his shoulders, exposing her womanhood to his hungry stare.
Mortified by her lewd position, she tried closing her legs but only succeeded in wrapping her calves around his head, revealing her bare, pink lips that were glistening with the beginning of arousal.
"Please don't!" she pleaded, face flaming with humiliation and desire. Demons have a keener sense of smell and while the little lamb may plead otherwise, he could tell that her body was ripening for his invasion. His manhood twitched with anticipation.
Ignoring her protests, he nuzzled her thighs. "Did you know there are other places a demon can feed from apart from the wrists or jugular?"
She gasped, head jerking upright to meet his darkly sensual gaze from between her legs. "You can't mean—"
He responded by spreading her thighs wider and pressing open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin, climbing higher until he reached her pussy. From experience he knew that every woman held their own unique taste. He didn't have to wonder how the little lamb tasted anymore. At the first swipe of his tongue, her body arched off the bed and she moaned unashamedly, an unfiltered reaction that made him hunger for more. Zagan licked her greedily, eyes closed as he enjoyed the sweet, innocent taste of a virgin — something he never indulged in. He lashed at the tiny bud above her opening once, twice, three times before sucking on it hard. That was when he heard it — a loud, keening cry that exploded from her lips.
Fangs extended, he bit down into the fleshy part of her inner thigh and drank, doubling her orgasm and inducing another wave of pleasure. Akila's blood flooded his mouth like the rarest aphrodisiac — smooth and thick with a hint of sweetness. Ecstasy and exaltation! He might have died and gone to paradise, pledging a newfound addiction to her blood that made all others pale in comparison.
Was it because she was a blood priestess?
"Zagan!" Akila cried out his name, her voice strained with pleasure as her pussy contracted again and again. Sealing the wound with a flick of his saliva, Zagan shifted his attention back to her throbbing pussy. Ruthlessly, he lapped her orgasm clean, intensifying the tiny aftershocks that wrenched her body until her muscles turned to mush. Head lolling on the bed, she felt depleted and slightly languid.
"Don't fall asleep yet little lamb." Zagan kissed her clit before pushing up on his hands, rising above her until his shadow blocked out the light. Gripping her shift, he tore the flimsy material in half and tossed it over his shoulder. Unable to deny the temptation, his hands reached out to shape her perky breasts, testing their weight before rubbing his thumbs across those pouty nipples. "Who could ever imagine that you were hiding these beneath those plain clothes? The night has only begun. When morning comes, there will not be an inch of your skin that will be left untouched."
The velvet promise of his voice made goosebumps rise over her flesh. Akila knew that for as long as she lived, she was never going to forget this demon hovering above her. He was male beauty personified in its purest, most merciless form.