Page 31 of Dormeo
Coupled with the vile words and lecherous thoughts the putrid excuse for a human warrior had about the tiny human under my guard, my blood boils in my veins.
Lily curses at me for leaving her to deal with the dead bodies, but I have no doubt she’ll find some simpering idiots eager to curry favour by doing a clean-up job for her. All they have to do is drag the corpses to the cliff top and toss them over the side. There are plenty of vile creatures living in the caves or lurking in the churning waves below that will strip the flesh and grind the bone to dust in a matter of minutes if given the chance.
She won’t have to get those long red nails dirty.
My boots are loud as I stomp through the castle. Lower-level demons scurry out of my way, hiding in the shadows, and the other stronger creatures who’ve been drawn to my accommodations by Rose’s alluring presence, lower their heads respectfully.
Yet, I keep my wits about me. Her power is intoxicating. They can feel it, and they want to taste it for themselves. The threat of violence, or incurring my father’s wrath, pales in comparison to the primitive urge to mate.
And even though I try to convince myself I’m angry with her for spying on us, that’s not why I’m mad at all. I’m annoyed that she was careless with her safety, putting herself in danger by coming outside to watch, and I’m worried that she might not let me visit her dreams now that she’s seen who I really am.
With my senses still on high alert for any threat behind me, I push through the door, greeted by the low warning growl of my hellhound, who positions himself protectively between my seething rage and the bedroom door.
“Don’t tell me she’s getting to you too?” I sneer, removing my weapons and hanging them inside the door. With a haughty snarl, he disappears outside, and I listen for a second, smiling when I hear him curl up outside the door, keeping watch while giving me some privacy with the curious human.
Suddenly, my home is silent but for my own heavy breaths as I approach her sleeping form.
Curled up in my bed, her blonde hair fanning across my pillow, it’s difficult to be angry with her. She’s a long way from home, experiencing new things, putting her faith in a man, or demon, she doesn’t know and can’t trust not to hurt her when this is all over.
I should leave and speak to her when I’ve calmed down, and my heart isn’t pounding so hard in my chest, but the temptation to see what she’s dreaming about, whether she’s having nightmares about me killing that man, is potent.
“What are you imagining, little Rose? Me plunging my sword into you, or something else?” My tail curls around her ankle, and I groan as she shifts, lifting one arm over her head and letting the silk sheet slip down to reveal more skin than I can resist.
I smooth her hair back and lean in closer to get more of her delicious smell. With my hand on her forehead, I begin to get snippets of her thoughts…
Her fear makes my insides clench, and my fingers twitch. It’s uncomfortable. I don’t like the thought of her being scared. But then, as I watch the scene unfold from her perspective, I realise she’s not afraid that someone will break into my chambers, or that these men will come and steal her away.
She’s afraid for us.
Even Lily. But especially for me.
I’m mildly offended that she thinks I can’t hold my own against this small party of ill-prepared weak soldiers, but also, charmed by her concern. As she spots the cowardly sneak attack on my sister and yells out her warning, my chest swells. She was trying to protect us.
Our eyes lock, and this time, I feel what she thought, what emotion was running through her, when she saw me finish her would-be rescuer and condemn her to more time here in hell, more time with me.
She was excited by my display of both charity in giving the man the opportunity to leave and my strength when I finished the disgusting prick off.
Rose’s vision scrambles and reforms, but this time, it’s me storming through the door of the chambers, sweaty and bloodied, and running straight to her.
With no regard for making a mess, I pull her to me and kiss her lips, in a bruising, claiming kiss.
And yet, there, she stops. Her imagination once again holds her back, speaking of the lack of sexual experience I find so frustrating.
Why should a young woman be kept subservient, uninformed and naive to be considered valuable? Do humans not appreciate spirit and passion?
“Let me help you,” I whisper, my tail travelling up the inside of her legs and teasing them apart.
With a breathy sigh, Rose’s legs fall to the sides, and her consciousness retreats, giving me full control of her body and mind.
My tail slips further between her legs as I delve into her dreams and take control.
Rose gasps as I deepen the kiss and lift her, arms holding her up as she wraps her legs around me and clings on tight.
Without hesitation, I stride toward my bed and lay her down, her red satin nightdress now bunched up around her hips.
Crawling over her, one knee between her legs, I lean over her and kiss her once more.
She curls up to meet me, one arm gripping the back of my neck and holding me in place, while her tongue tentatively meets mine.
