Page 8 of Carnal Heart
“Demon Hart?” I ask, using his stage name.
“Ah,” he purrs. “You’re a fan of mine. Lovely.”
Embarrassment heats my cheeks. Because, well, yeah. Iwasa fan. A huge fan. Demon’s camboy sessions got me off so many times when Remy couldn’t bother. Demon always did things solo, but my favorite videos were when he pulled out this tiny silicone sex doll, the one he likes to lube up and pound into. Fuck. I’m breathing harder now. How many times had I wished I was that doll, propped up and ready for him?
I jerk against his hold and try to jump so I can unhook my arms. It’s useless. I’m completely trapped and at his mercy. “What are you doing? Why am I tied up?”
“Oh, sweet doll. I tried so hard to hold back, but after all those taunts and pretty little words, I’m giving you exactly what you want,” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath causing me to shudder.
“And what is it do you think I want?” My mind races as I look around desperately for an escape.
“Weren’t you just telling me how you liked the thought of just lying there? You said you wanted to be dominated. Cuffed and helpless.” He pushes my blazer open and slides a possessive hand under my crop top.
My lips part. He reallywaslistening from the shadows.
I shake my head, still in denial. This can’t be real.
“I mean sure,” he continues. “You aren’t lying down for me, but this is the next best thing, am I right?” Demon’s fingers grip my waist hard enough to bruise.
I’m about to tell him to fuck off when footsteps sound in the hall.
“Zaiah?” Lana calls out, searching for me.
I freeze.
Demon presses his muscular, lean body against me, and my senses are invaded by the scent of cinnamon and clove. He’s a solid mass of weight; an odd mixture of terrifying and tempting. He places a large hand over my mouth, using his thumb and index finger to plug my nose and cut off my air.
I thrash against him as I panic. He chuckles low. “Hush, Doll. If I let you breathe, do you promise to be quiet for me?” he whispers directly into my ear.
I nod frantically when speckles dot my vision like a beautiful yet terrifying constellation of stars. He lets go of my nose but keeps his hand on my lips. Lana’s steps get closer. A part of me knows I should probably call out for help, but it’s probably not a good idea to antagonize this masked stranger. There’s no guarantee he won’t hurt Lana, too.
Lana hesitates in front of the Game Room, but at the last minute, she turns away, probably not wanting to interrupt whatever the hell Illya is doing to his Praeda. As soon as her footsteps fade away, Demon drops his hand from my mouth.
“Fuck you,” I sneer, thrashing against my binds. “I’m not your doll.”
“Maybe not yet, but I can change that.” He steps back and away from my body.
It’s only then do I realize he was partially holding me up. The change of position has me slipping forward and straining my wrists against the zip ties. I yelp in pain.
Demon lifts his mask halfway, so it’s no longer covering his mouth.
The sight of his full plush lips has me momentarily paralyzed. There’s a small smile on his smooth face, giving him an almost youthful appearance. I don’t know why I expected him to be significantly older than me, but if I had to guess, I would have assumed he was somewhere around my age, just based on the lower half of his face.
Even though there’s enough light to see the red flare of his eyes at certain angles, I can’t quite make out the color of his hair, not unless he turns around. Rumor has it that Demon likes to pretend to be a Black Hart, constantly changing his hair color to blue and wearing contacts to match Devyn Shio. The man’s true appearance remains a mystery, hidden beneath his ever-changing masks.
“What do you say, Zaiah? Do you want to be my doll?”
I lurch myself forward and spit on his face. My saliva lands on the corner of his mouth before dripping to the floor. The smile falls from his lips.
“There’s no way I’ll ever want to be yours,” I reply.
Demon presses his body back against mine. He slides his hand down to the button of my pants before he pops it open. My breath comes out in harsh, desperate gasps.
“Hmm. Your body seems to disagree with your statement.” His fingers slip under the waistband of my pants, his fingertips tracing the hard head of my cock. “Oh, yeah. Your body definitely wants me.”
To my horror, my whole body jerks and leans forward. Precum leaks from my cock, and Demon groans when he feels the wetness on his fingers.
“No—I’m not hard for you,” I yell. “That’s not because of you.”
