A Demon's Wrath (23 page)

The moment the drop of blood hit the water,
it disappeared and dispersed, forming a golden halo. The spectrum
spread everywhere within the pool, bright colors of the rainbow
bursting forward all around Cecelia until she too glowed with a
golden halo.

Cecelia looked around her in confusion and
fascination. She twisted around in her spot, taking in the
beautiful aura from the pool.

Drake had his answer. So Julius was right
that the Mother Pearl had blessed this human girl and she was to
bear his son, the next demon king. At that moment, with the theory
proved correct with his bloodline mixed with the sacred water that
flew from the mountain into his private bathing pool, Drake didn’t
know what to think. For centuries, the female who was blessed by
the Mother Pearl to bear a demon king’s son was of demon’s blood.
Now she was a human, and how was he to explain that to his
comrades? How ironic it was about this damned situation.

He stood and left, his face a dark
scowl.

Cecelia watched him go and sighed. Some
moments later, the pool returned to its normal pristine clearness,
and she continued bathing, cleaning herself with the beautifully
scented soap. Once she was done, she got out and picked up her
clothing, wondering if there was a towel to dry her body. When she
couldn’t find any, she put on her shift again and poked her head
out the door to see if Drake had left the bedchamber as well.

No such luck. The demon was still there, now
standing by the glowing hearth with his back to it. He was watching
her, though his face was expressionless.

“Will you be taking me to the dungeon now?”
she asked, dreading his answer. But she really couldn’t help
herself.

He cocked his head to one side, again
examining her person. With the thin material of the shift clinging
to her, she was too enticing by half, and again, Drake felt his
blood running hot wanting her.

“There is no dungeon here.”

She blinked. But how could there be no
dungeon? Surely, McNamara Castle was enormous, and to not have a
dungeon to hold a prisoner…

“This is not McNamara Castle,” he said.
“This is Oakley House, my private retreat. This bedchamber is your
prison. This house is your prison. You are my prisoner, my servant.
I will do with you as I please.”

Cecelia felt her throat tighten. So this
house was to be her prison, then.
And what will he do to me?
she wondered contritely.

As if to answer her silent question, he
cupped her chin and moved his face so close she could feel his warm
breath on her skin. “You will sire me a pearl, my dear, not unlike
the one you have stolen from me.”

“But I do not know how,” she protested,
thinking the demon was truly mad. “I will find your pearl for you,
I swear.”

He laughed—that low intoxicating sound that
warmed Cecelia to her core. “I will worry about that later. For
now…” He moved his face closer to hers and nestled his nose against
her rose and lavender-scented hair. “For now, let’s concentrate on
creating me a new pearl.”

Cecelia swallowed hard as she watched him
move his lips to hers, and before she could draw away from him, he
kissed her.

He was firm and warm, and Cecelia responded
by closing her eyes, losing herself within the heat of his touches.
Drake urged her lips to part for him, and like an obedient child,
she did, allowing him to plunge in his tongue.

She groaned softly as he played with her,
stroking and caressing the groove of her mouth with his expert
tongue. When he released her, he moved down her throat, licking and
kissing her sensitive skin, and then once he got her to her
breasts, he took one into his hot mouth and suckled and grazed and
nipped.

Cecelia cried out in pure agony of pleasure
as he continued to pluck her nipple until the little bud turned as
hard as marble and glistening pink like a rosebud. Once he was done
with that one, he turned his attention to the other and did the
same—grazing, nipping, and teasing her until she cried out some
more. By the time he was finished, Cecelia was breathless and her
body ached to be filled with hardened sex. Drake, however, wasn’t
done with her yet. He trailed little kisses between her engorged
breasts, lower to her soft belly and then lower to her hot scented
heat between her legs.

Cecelia blinked and whispered, “Sire, what
are you doing?”

Drake flicked his dark eyes to her and gave
her a devilish smile. Cecelia knew he was about to do something
that’d shock her to her core. She could see it in his eyes. Fear
enveloped her, and with shaky legs, she pulled herself away from
him and rushed off the bed.

Drake laughed, amused. “Where do think
you’re going?”

Cecelia didn’t reply. She grabbed hold of
the thin sheet, wrapped it around herself, and took off, her heart
beating outrageously fast and loud and her body trembling with the
lovemaking experience.

Drake rushed off the bed after her, and in a
flick of an instant, he caught her arm and pulled her to him. He
scooped her up and carried her back to bed.

“Playing hard to get, are we?” he teased.
“Well, I like games, Celia. Let’s play one.”

Cecelia looked up at the huge demon and
shuddered in both fear and pleasure. What was wrong with her? She
felt her own body trembling with need, yet she wanted to run away
from him.

Drake laid her down on the bed, and before
she could run off again, he took out a black thin silk material and
tied it around one of her wrists to the side of the four-poster
bed.

“I don’t like games, sire,” she said. “And
why are you tying me like this?”

“So you won’t run off,” he said, a grin on
his face.

Cecelia decided then that he was too
handsome by far for her peace of mind. She struggled once again to
release her wrist. Drake noticed and said, “It’s futile,
sweetheart.”

He cupped her chin and drew her face to his.
Before she could protest, he kissed her hard. When he released her
again, he moved his hand and palmed the valley between her legs. He
felt the warm heat within her yearning for his touch and her sweet
nectar flowing across his fingers, readying her for his entry.

Before Cecelia could stop him, Drake moved
his head between her legs and licked her lips. She sucked in her
breath and groaned loudly, her voice trembling.

“Sire!” she screamed when Drake parted her
lips and nibbled her hidden pearl. Cecelia clutched onto the pillow
beside her and her body tensed with an indescribable, exquisite
sensation as he continued to feast away. When he was done, she was
spent and exhausted.

Drake, however, wasn’t done yet. He pulled
her to him and sat her on top of him. Cecelia gave out a loud
pleasured cry when she came down on him, his thick hardness
penetrating deep into her sleek tunnel. With one hand, she
automatically wrapped around his muscular neck as he guided her to
move in a rhythm, making her dance with him as his shaft drove
deeper into her.

Cecelia buried her face against his broad
chest, her eyes closed as the thrill and ache and warmth and
exquisite pleasure inside her built higher so she couldn’t control
herself and whimpered. It was too much. She felt too wonderful yet
too painful.

Drake moved his face down to her, gathered
her long hair to one side, and buried his own face at the nape of
her neck. Slowly, he began to kiss her, licking her warm flesh as
he thrust deep into her. When he looked up, he saw tears in her
eyes and frowned darkly. He stopped his thrusting, which surprised
Cecelia. She blinked and gave him a questioning look.

Drake freed her wrist from the tie, moved
her position so she lay on her back and he on top of her. He gently
wiped her tears with the back of his fingers and said, “Did I hurt
you?”

Cecelia felt her throat tighten with
emotion. She wanted to laugh. A demon king had just asked her if
he’d hurt her. How should she tell him? That his lovemaking to her
was sheer barbaric yet sheer beautiful at the same time? That it
made her feel so intoxicated she wanted to run away yet wanted him
to do so much more to her at the same time? She wanted him to
thrust so hard and so fast that it’d drive her mad.

She shook her head at his question, which
made Drake smile.

“Well, little thief, in that case, let’s
continue this creation of my new pearl.”

Cecelia gazed up at him, confused. Drake saw
the look on her face. He knew she didn’t understand the meaning in
his words. She’d understand in time, of course.

Without further ado, he dipped his head and
kissed her as he continued to thrust inside her.

Cecelia cried into his mouth as he continued
the rhythm. When finally she reached the tipping point, she came,
long and hard, and her body shuddered with the sheer delight of it
all.

Drake came after her, ejecting his seed into
her womb as he arched his back. When he was done, he rested on one
elbow beside her, staring at her flushed face.

Cecelia avoided his gaze, embarrassed all of
a sudden at the way he was looking at her. Drake nudged her face to
his with his fingers and thumb, and when she did turned her gaze,
he said, “You’ll do, thief, you’ll do.”

Cecelia blinked and Drake came down and
kissed her softly on the lips. Then he chanted something to her,
soft words floating across her face, luring her to close her eyes,
making her drift off. A moment later, she was fast asleep. Drake
moved his hand to touch her belly. He felt it, the warm heat and
the glow inside her. He smiled.

“You’ll do, bride, you’ll do,” he whispered
to her.

WHEN CECELIA FLUTTERED HER EYES open, the
first thing she saw was the bright-blue sky through the enormous
window on the east. Beautiful was the first word that came to her
mind as she lay there marveling at the exquisite scenery of green
woods and wildflowers, the smell of ripe fruits and blossoms, and
the feel of the warm sunlight on her skin.

In the distance, she could hear birds and
crickets chirping, and instantly, her mind flashed back to those
wonderful summer days years ago when she’d been back on Rosevalley
Island, her home, with her family. Just as quickly, reality hit her
like a splash of ice-cold water. Her heart raced. Her body became
alert, and she was very much aware of what had transpired last
night in this very large bed.

She was still a little sore, particularly
down there where—

She heard a chuckle and instantly knew Drake
was there in the room with her. She had thought he’d left her alone
after his successful, ardent seduction last night. But it appeared
she was wrong.

A blush spread across her cheeks, and
Cecelia clutched the blanket tighter against her naked body as she
heard his light footsteps moving toward her. A moment later, she
felt him sitting on the bed behind her.

Breathe, Celia, breathe,
she told
herself.

Her heart was still pounding madly when he
said, “You’re finally awake, little thief?”

His voice, the deep timbre, did nothing to
ease her awareness of him. She flashed her eyes open and turned her
head, sucking in her breath once she saw him. She thought about
feigning sleep but knew it would be to no avail, as he’d already
seen her looking at him.

“Yes, sire? What is it you want with me in
such early hours of the morning?”

“Not early hours, little thief. Rather, ‘tis
nearly noon.” He grabbed ahold of the thin blanket and pulled it
off her person.

Cecelia gasped. “Sire!” she uttered, rushing
off the bed to retrieve her cover.

Drake caught her wrist before she had the
chance to touch the white material and roughly pulled her to
him.

Totally and utterly naked as a newborn baby,
Cecelia found herself sitting on the demon’s lap, her long dark
hair in disarray about her person and her eyes large as she gazed
up at him. She squirmed a little in his tight embrace as the warmth
of his large body and his scent—pure male and spice and woods—did
nothing to ease her fascination toward him.

He pulled her closer, his warm, strong hand
resting at the small of her back. She could feel him against her,
the hardness and warmth of his lean body touching her soft one.
Instantly, she felt her core heat in response and became weak, as
if she’d already surrendered to him.

Drake ran his fingers through her long hair,
stroking the strands gently and then flipping them over her slender
shoulder. Under the bright daylight, she was even more alluring,
and it made his blood run hot with lust.

He flicked his gaze to her flat belly, the
belly that would soon be swollen with his jewel, his son, a future
demon king. He noted the scar there to her right side just beneath
her breast was quite prominent under the light. He brushed his
finger across it, lightly caressing the mark of a healed wound from
long ago.

Cecelia involuntarily gasped at his feathery
touch as a delicious tremor coursed through her being.

He flicked his gaze to her and smiled.
“You’re as sensitive as ever.”

Cecelia didn’t like his arrogant remark, nor
did she like the smug expression on his face. “‘Tis broad daylight,
sire. Are you planning to—”

“Aye,” he said, touching her delicate
chin.

“I refuse,” she said abruptly, brushing off
his hand. Then before she lost all self-control under his masterful
seduction, she shoved him back and rushed off his lap.

She wasn’t fast enough, and he caught her
wrist again. With one fluid motion, he had her on her back and him
on top of her. He chuckled, rather pleased at her retaliation.

“Playing hard to get again, are we? We both
know where you’ll end up.”

Cecelia made an attempt to wriggle herself
free. It was no use, as he was stronger, and the harder she
struggled beneath him, the tighter he held on to her. It was made
worse by the fact that he seemed to be rather enjoying toying with
her.