Page 61 of Demonic Cage
“Faith is transient. Believing in ourselves is the hardest. Touch the tree again!” he commands.
I press my back against the trunk. Calm floods over me, euphoria fills me, and warm waves shake my body, numbing my skin. I can’t retreat anymore, but I don’t want to either. I just let Darya get closer to me, and in this ecstasy, he kisses me.
His lips are cold and yet heat pours within me. His mouth rests on mine as if waiting for something, then slowly starts moving. He explores. Waits for me to respond, and I do. I hold his lower lip between mine, and he does the same. One of his hands still rests on the tree, the other slides under my dress to my waist, pressing his entire body against mine. I sigh.
My back touches the trunk, so I still feel the wavelike sensation. I release the tree with my hand and wrap my arm around Darya.
Not a single consequence crosses my mind. Darya senses my openness, and his lips become even more demanding, his tongue finding mine. His hand slips under my dress at my waist, then down to my legs beneath my skirt, as if unsure how much he demands from me.
“You… are perfect,” he murmurs against my lips, igniting tiny fireworks on my skin. The demon’s firm hand already grips my bare thigh, and the sound rising from my throat only urges him to go further, which he does. He’s at my hips now. I feel his fingers on my underwear, slowly sliding down towards my sensitive areas. I dig into his hair, lifting myself onto his waist with my legs. The demon growls, pressing me against the tree.
Darya devours. He drags his rough tongue down my neck, then finds my lips again. He kisses deeply, wildly, depriving me of air. I feel the warmth between my legs, feel his desire, andmine, too. His hand explores the inner part of my hips, and I can only moan, begging him to continue.
And then suddenly he stops. He takes his hand out from under my skirt, separates our swollen lips, and places his forehead against mine. Only our breathing echoes in the room; mine faster, his deeper, like a predatory growl. I whimper in protest.
“After… the ceremony,” he groans out, as if each word spoken is torture for him. Then he opens his eyes and looks straight at me.
“We must go now,” he adds, and then let’s go. I detach from the plant, no longer feeling the warming sensation of euphoria. Instead, thoughts, solutions, worries return about what I just did. Yet I so badly wish he would press his body against mine again.
Darya also gathers himself enough to take a step back from me. It’s hard for the Demon King not to finish what he started. Withme.
“After the ceremony, if you feel like it, we can come back.” He offers his arm, and his seductive smile is like a shared secret between us. It’s something we don’t need to say out loud – we both know what the other is thinking. I can’t resist smiling, and I can only hope that my flushed face and smile don’t present a pathetic sight.
But Darya’s expression becomes serious. He steps beside me, holds my face between his hands, and kisses me sternly, decisively. Before I can react, he pushes himself away from me. Once again, I can barely breathe.
He wraps his arm around mine without permission and pulls me towards the entrance.
“If you smile like that, I’ll find it hard to resist,” he says. Not a sound comes out of my throat, and I just follow the Kraldem, wherever he is dragging me.
We enter the cave. Darya entrusts me to Lizander, before heading left, while we go right. Damn, the Demon King’s ass looksso goodin those trousers…
“If you keep staring, your neck will twist,” he remarks.
“Where is he going?” I ask, clearing my throat.
“He’s using another entrance.”
We walk in silence until I can’t bear it anymore.
“When Nárs showed me the mirror of predestination, I saw two doors. What do they mean?”
“Perhaps you should askhim,” Lizander responds sternly.
“But I want to hear it from you.”
He sighs heavily.
“The Kraldem instructed us not to speak of this to you.”
“I have the right to know what you’ve planned for me?”
“Then why don’t you bother Darya with it?”
I exhale irritably.
“He doesn’t provide coherent answers.”
“Instead, he just presses his tongue down your throat?” Lizander asks mockingly.
