Page 125 of Demonic Cage
“And if… we went now and…”
Darya shakes his head.
“The herebias are closer than ever. I have to go to Lizander.”
“Don’t go!” I start, but I have no idea how to keep him here. Or maybe I don’t want to think about it.
Darya moves closer and leans over me, whispering:
“Why would I stay, Kindra?”
I can’t meet his eyes. He releases my neck and takes a step towards the door.
“You’ll stay here tonight,” he declares. “It’s safer than the tower.”
“Darya, wait!” I shout, grabbing his wrist. The demon turns back, his stormy gray eyes studying me curiously.
“Yes?”
“I…” I bite my lip. “I’m not under the influence of your blood right now.”
The demon’s stormy gray eyes darken.
I’m doing this for the angels.
I rise on my toes and kiss him. His lips taste like fire, soft as earth. He slowly returns my kiss, and as he does, his skin first burns, then the air between us ignites. He reaches for my waist, and I run my fingers through his hair.
I’m doing this so Lavian and the others can get in. Just for that. Nothing else.
I slide my tongue into his mouth, and he breaks the kiss. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, and my vision blurs. Darya’s taste is sweet and alluring, and he looks at me as if he wants to savor me again, as if the past few weeks haven’t been enough.
“Then I won’t stop, little champion,” he growls, and my ears almost burst. I can barely stay on my feet, excitement pulsing warmly under my skin.
I step closer to Darya and shake my head.
“Finish what you started,” I pant, pressing my lips to his. I feel the underworld’s taste on his skin, the poison sliding down my throat.
The faint scent of earth burns my nose; his tongue meets mine, one hand on my nape, the other pulling my waist closer. I shiver as every inch of our bodies touch.
Everything is hot, but it’snot enough.
My heart pounds as I unzip Darya’s black leather vest. I break the kiss just long enough to run my hand over his ink-covered, muscular chest. The demon grunts. My thighs respond. I feel a nauseating warmth, and I dig my nails into his sculpted muscles, then slowly trace the defined V-line of his hips with my finger. Hungry, Darya growls.
He pushes my hand away, grabs my hair, and forces my head back. His tongue gently makes its way down my neck.
I moan as his lips touch my collarbone, feeling him seal a smile into the hollow.
“There are situations where even I can lose control, little champion,” he whispers against my skin, and I feel less fear than I should. The way he holds me… it’s too controlled, too gentle, yet wild, and I can’t stop. “My demonic self may not want to keep you alive.”
Maybe now is the time to push him away.
“Tell me, Kindra. How much do you still hate me?” He presses me against one of the bed’s wide posts. I slide my leg up his, and he grips my thigh.
I hiss.
“A lot,” I whisper through my teeth.
“Hmm, really?”
