Page 41 of Hell Sent

He was determined to do this well, because at the moment, he couldn’t seem to do anything else right.

“Will you help me?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He took one of her hands and guided it between her legs. “Touch yourself.”

She raised her eyebrows a little, and Azreth wondered if he’d committed yet another mortal faux pas. But then she did as he asked.

Her eyes remained locked with his as she pressed her fingers against herself. They bent and unbent slowly, summoning arousal like a mage gathering magic energy, and she waited until her desire had built to what seemed like an almost painful threshold before she slid them deeper, and then each stroke was drawing out small curls of pleasure. It was mesmerizing—beautiful.

“You are good at this,” Azreth said. She didn’t need him at all, really.

“At what?”

“Pleasuring yourself.”

She stopped abruptly. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No.”

“Isn’t everyone good at pleasuring themselves? I mean, don’t you ever…?”

“No.”

“You don’t? Or can’t?”

“I don’t like to.”

She stared at him, frowning. Azreth averted his eyes. He gently took her wrist and pulled her hand back to her core, and after a moment, her fingers resumed their slow rhythm.

“Do you like it… with me?” she asked.

Reluctantly, he looked up at her and studied her face. She looked hopeful and worried.

“Yes,” he said softly. “With you.”

He ran his hand up the back of her leg, pulling her closer, and touched his lips to her inner thigh. There was a sharp spike of heat in the air. He parted his lips and tasted her skin and her slick.

He’d wanted to pleasure her with his tongue nearly from the day he’d met her, but he hadn’t imagined it quite like this, with him on his knees before her, wanting her in ways he’d never wanted anyone.

The way she gasped when he drew his tongue over her sex, though—that was exactly as he’d imagined it. Startled, she bucked against him. He could still feel her stiff unease beneath her pleasure, but after a few more strokes, it was gone. Her hands, reaching blindly for him, landed on his horns.

Azreth jolted. Raiya curled her fingers tighter around his horns, holding him against her, unaware of the taboo nature of what she was doing. A shiver went through him. Being grabbed by the horns was cause for great offense in the hells, but this wasn’t the hells, was it?

He grabbed her thigh and lifted it over his shoulder, then buried his tongue in her. She struggled to stifle a moan. Excitement and need burst from her, washing over him.

There was nothing uneasy about the way she grabbed him. She didn’t ask permission or worry she would offend him—she simply moved him where she wanted him, demanding his service. And he was happy to give it. He was coming to the horrifying realization that for her, he would do almost anything.

* * *

The counter-enchantment did not work as intended.

Or did it?

For a moment, after Azreth charged the enchantment and was immediately racked with pain, he thought Raiya must have deceived him. Instead of ridding him of his binding, she’d branded him with an enchantment of eternal torture to punish him, and he couldn’t even be angry at her for it. It was what he deserved. A part of him was pleased that she’d finally been wise enough to turn on him.

As he fell to the ground, writhing in agony, she climbed onto his chest. He thought of Nariel on top of him, strangling him, but then he saw her face. She was panicked, scrubbing at the runes she’d just painted on him.

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