Immortals After Dark 07 - Kiss of a Demon King by Kresley Cole Page B
Authors: Kresley Cole
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she shifted him to peek at his back, she found an image of a dragon that appeared to wind around his torso.
Basilisks, ancient dragons, were reputed to live in the plane of Rothkalina in a region called Grave Realm. Demons held them sacred.
Tattoos were common among demon males, but she hadn't expected Rydstrom to have one.
When Sabine grazed a finger along the image, the rigid muscles beneath it flexed to her fingers.
"Your gaze looks covetous, Abie."
"So?"
"So ... if you're his female, maybe you feel drawn to him as well. Maybe you could fall in love," she said, her big blue eyes wistful.
Lanthe was a contradiction-an evil sorceress who longed for love. Sabine had never known anyone so desperate for it as her sister. Ever since Lanthe was young, she'd seemed to be searching for it with her entire being. She read self-help books by the dozen and devoured tragic love stories on DVDs.
"The only love I'm capable of is sisterly," Sabine said. "Count yourself lucky."
If a romantic attachment hadn't happened in five centuries, Sabine didn't see it forthcoming.
She'd long suspected that any part capable of loving a man had expired forever with one of her deaths.
Besides, she could never trust anyone but Lanthe, and according to popular wisdom and her sister's books, one couldn't have love without trust.
"In any case, just because I'm his, doesn't mean he's mine." The Sorceri didn't believe in fate, and so they didn't believe in a fated mate.
Still, Sabine would be cautious with her quarry. Getting attached to him, or rather to his body or his tempt' ing kiss, would make their situation . . . unfortunate when she was finished with him.
"Ready for the pants?" Lanthe slapped her hands and rubbed them together. "Let's see if the rumors about demon males are true."
"Oh, they're true. In fact, I think they're underre-ported." Sabine bit her bottom lip. He was still semihard, and she didn't know if she wanted anyone to see him like that. To her attendants, Sabine said, "Leave
us."
When she and Lanthe were alone, Sabine grasped the waist of his low-hanging pants, but paused at the button above the fly. "Maybe I'll keep these on him. For effect, when I take them off."
Lanthe's brows rose at Sabine's proprietary behavior.
"What?" Sabine said defensively. "I merely don't want him to get cold." She began chaining his wrists
above his head.
"Uh-huh," Lanthe said. "I'll be monitoring this situation closely." She fastened the manacles at the foot of the bed around his ankles.
When he was secured, Sabine sidled up next to Lanthe, and they both gazed at the demon.
His broad shoulders seemed to take up the entire mattress, tapering beautifully to his narrow waist. The hair on his arms, chest, and the trail below his navel was black, but tipped with blond against his tanned skin.
"He's . . . Abie, he's magnificent" Lanthe breathed. "Your own demon love slave here for you to use whenever you like. I want one, too!"
"Yes, but now I have to get him up to speed with his new role."
Lanthe nodded thoughtfully. "One thing we never considered . . . what if he is the sole male we've ever encountered who continually puts his duty above his lusts? What if he keeps his promises without fail?"
"There's no such male," Sabine said without hesitation.
"I wonder. Maybe he's so firmly on the side of good that someone from the Pravus can't tempt him."
"Are you doubting my skill as a seductress?" Hettiah had already publicly challenged her.
"How about a side wager, then?"
"I'm game. If you can't seduce him in the next week, then I get your finest headdress."
Made of the rarest blue and white golds, Sabine's most treasured headdress was winged, arching back over the ears, with gossamer strands of gold cascading over the front.
Sabine had stolen it from the Queen of Clairsen-tience, along with her ability to touch objects and read their history. It had been a root power, and they'd fought to the death for it. But ultimately, Sabine had
Basilisks, ancient dragons, were reputed to live in the plane of Rothkalina in a region called Grave Realm. Demons held them sacred.
Tattoos were common among demon males, but she hadn't expected Rydstrom to have one.
When Sabine grazed a finger along the image, the rigid muscles beneath it flexed to her fingers.
"Your gaze looks covetous, Abie."
"So?"
"So ... if you're his female, maybe you feel drawn to him as well. Maybe you could fall in love," she said, her big blue eyes wistful.
Lanthe was a contradiction-an evil sorceress who longed for love. Sabine had never known anyone so desperate for it as her sister. Ever since Lanthe was young, she'd seemed to be searching for it with her entire being. She read self-help books by the dozen and devoured tragic love stories on DVDs.
"The only love I'm capable of is sisterly," Sabine said. "Count yourself lucky."
If a romantic attachment hadn't happened in five centuries, Sabine didn't see it forthcoming.
She'd long suspected that any part capable of loving a man had expired forever with one of her deaths.
Besides, she could never trust anyone but Lanthe, and according to popular wisdom and her sister's books, one couldn't have love without trust.
"In any case, just because I'm his, doesn't mean he's mine." The Sorceri didn't believe in fate, and so they didn't believe in a fated mate.
Still, Sabine would be cautious with her quarry. Getting attached to him, or rather to his body or his tempt' ing kiss, would make their situation . . . unfortunate when she was finished with him.
"Ready for the pants?" Lanthe slapped her hands and rubbed them together. "Let's see if the rumors about demon males are true."
"Oh, they're true. In fact, I think they're underre-ported." Sabine bit her bottom lip. He was still semihard, and she didn't know if she wanted anyone to see him like that. To her attendants, Sabine said, "Leave
us."
When she and Lanthe were alone, Sabine grasped the waist of his low-hanging pants, but paused at the button above the fly. "Maybe I'll keep these on him. For effect, when I take them off."
Lanthe's brows rose at Sabine's proprietary behavior.
"What?" Sabine said defensively. "I merely don't want him to get cold." She began chaining his wrists
above his head.
"Uh-huh," Lanthe said. "I'll be monitoring this situation closely." She fastened the manacles at the foot of the bed around his ankles.
When he was secured, Sabine sidled up next to Lanthe, and they both gazed at the demon.
His broad shoulders seemed to take up the entire mattress, tapering beautifully to his narrow waist. The hair on his arms, chest, and the trail below his navel was black, but tipped with blond against his tanned skin.
"He's . . . Abie, he's magnificent" Lanthe breathed. "Your own demon love slave here for you to use whenever you like. I want one, too!"
"Yes, but now I have to get him up to speed with his new role."
Lanthe nodded thoughtfully. "One thing we never considered . . . what if he is the sole male we've ever encountered who continually puts his duty above his lusts? What if he keeps his promises without fail?"
"There's no such male," Sabine said without hesitation.
"I wonder. Maybe he's so firmly on the side of good that someone from the Pravus can't tempt him."
"Are you doubting my skill as a seductress?" Hettiah had already publicly challenged her.
"How about a side wager, then?"
"I'm game. If you can't seduce him in the next week, then I get your finest headdress."
Made of the rarest blue and white golds, Sabine's most treasured headdress was winged, arching back over the ears, with gossamer strands of gold cascading over the front.
Sabine had stolen it from the Queen of Clairsen-tience, along with her ability to touch objects and read their history. It had been a root power, and they'd fought to the death for it. But ultimately, Sabine had
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