It scares me how much I want that too. He barely finishes speaking when I descend to take his cock into my mouth. Really, he is too big. I can’t suck him properly. It doesn’t matter. Not when his thighs go rigid on either side of me and his growls get deeper and longer. I suck and lick at him, letting my hands do most of the work. It feels almost like desperation. I need him to lose control the same way I did. I need him to mark me the same way my desire still marks his face.
“Grace.”
I don’t require any further warning. I pull back and use both hands to jack him, pointing his cock at my chest. He lets out a sound that’s part curse and part my name. And then he comes all over my chest. An impossible amount. It just keeps going, him lashing me with spurt after spurt until my breasts are all but covered.
I’ve never felt more powerful in my life. I release his cock and drag my finger through his seed. “Look at the mess you made.”
“Grace.” There’s a warning in his voice, and I look up at his face, startled. That’s when I realize he snapped the bindings and his hands are free. He places his hands very carefully on his thighs. His gaze is fastened to my breasts as if he can’t make himself look away. “Let me make you come again. Please. You have my word that I won’t give my cock to your needy pussy, even if you beg for it.”
That way lies danger.
I want what he’s offering. Gods, I want it. But if I climb out of this tub and into his lap, I will end up begging him for his cock. I can’t guarantee any promises we make right now will hold if that happens. So I do one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life.
I take a step back.
Bram shakes his head slowly as if coming out of a dream. “Very well.” It takes him two tries to find his feet. Another time, I might find that incredibly satisfying, but I’m too focused on keeping my mouth closed—so I don’t call him back—to appreciate how thoroughly I have ruined him. He leaves the bathroom several seconds later, and it’s another few beats before I hear the bedroom door close and know that I’m alone.
Only then do I sink beneath the surface and scream out my frustration.
That was too close. On multiple counts.
10
GRACE
I’m not sure where it all went pear-shaped.
I lie on my bed and stare up into the vaulted ceiling, my body still singing from Bram’s mouth. My soul still singing from the way he yielded. I’ve never considered myself particularly kinky, or at least not in the way that requires elaborate rules and playacting scenes. But what happened in the bath . . . The power that coursed through me when he followed my demands. The surrender in his pale eyes. It’s just as heady as his tongue on my clit.
A problem. That’s what this is. Nothing more than a problem. I must have done something to arouse his suspicions at dinner. Leaving on the first night was too impulsive. Of course he’s going to keep an eye on his investment. Just because this castle seems deserted doesn’t mean it’s actually empty.
I . . . did not expect that from Bram, though. Not the anger and not the ruthlessness. Even now, I’m not entirely certain he wouldn’t have left me to the spiders if I hadn’t agreed. There was no mercy on his brutal face when he laid out the terms.
If I run and he catches me, he’ll drag me back to his bed.
I shiver and flop onto my stomach. The change in the gargoyle should scare me. It makes him a threat in a way he wasn’t previously. I know what my mother’s advice would be—eliminate the threat before it can eliminate me—but for some reason my brain won’t quite make the leap with me.
He hasn’t hurt anyone to my knowledge. He certainly hasn’t hurt me. I might be barred from bargainer demon territory, but that’s at least partially my fault. Bram isn’t actually a monster, and I only kill monsters.
He would have let me slit his throat in the tub. There was no hesitation in his aura, no trap waiting to be sprung. Bram is . . . complicated.
I don’t have time for complicated right now. Not when I’m so close to the answers I’ve sought for years. If there’s a part of me that unfurls at the challenge . . . Well, I’ve always had a bit of a self-destructive streak. It’s kind of hard to be a monster hunter without one. We don’t die of old age.
I roll onto my back again, restless. I have to run again. Giving up after one attempt is out of the question. I’ll just be more careful next time, sneakier. Now that I know the forest is filled with that kind of threat, I can be more prepared. The trees should inhibit Bram from getting to me from the air.
Even if they didn’t inhibit him from finding me in seconds after I got snared by that web.
“No. Damn it, no. I can do this.”
I’m still examining the problem from various angles when sleep sneaks in and takes me.
I awake some time later to the sound of movement in my room. I don’t open my eyes, change my breathing, or otherwise stir, but a second later a vaguely familiar voice filled with amusement says, “I know you’re awake. You’re practically seething with anger that I’m in your space. It’s rather delicious.”
I open my eyes and sit up. I expected a gargoyle, but this person isn’t one. They’re a bargainer demon, though they’re nowhere near the size of Azazel. They’re also missing their eyes, a second set of dark horns sprouting from their eye sockets. The same demon who gave me the translation tattoo. It takes a second to place their name: Ramanu. “I thought you weren’t supposed to check in for days yet.”
“Mmm, that’s true enough.” They lift a candle from the dresser, appear to examine it, and set it down with a careless grace. They’re wearing a black garment that might be a jumper or a dress, but I can’t quite make heads or tails of it. “At least for the others. But you’re special, aren’t you, Grace?”
I narrow my eyes, searching their aura for some indication of what they’re up to. There’s nothing but a deep-yellow amusement and a hint of light-green curiosity. “Special is one way of putting it.”
“You make it sound like I’m insulting you.” They clutch their chest, though their amusement never falters. “But we both know you’re not insulted. You’re curious.” They move closer, though they stay well out of striking range. “Just like you know I’m amused right now. A deep yellow in my energy, yes?”
I flinch. Of all the things I expected them to say, that didn’t number among the options. “What are you talking about?”
“No point in lying. Again, something you should know just by looking at me. I’m not lying.” They grin, flashing teeth in a way that feels both threatening and like they’re laughing at me. Their words seem to suggest they know about my ability, but that’s impossible. As if sensing my disbelief, they chuckle. “Come now, little hunter. I know what your family is. Surely they’re more aware than most of the histories. One of my parents is a gargoyle, which is what gave me my good looks.” They motion at their face. “And my ability to read emotions and magic. Just like one of your ancestors indulged with a gargoyle, and that ability has likely been skipping down your family line ever since.”