Where Demons Fear to Tread (14 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Chong

BOOK: Where Demons Fear to Tread
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He wanted her. That much was very clear. What was also clear, although far more disturbing, was the fact that she wanted him, too. All she could do was stare as he rid himself of the last vestige of clothing. Her mouth went dry. She blinked, her eyes fixated on that glorious male hardness that jutted from his body.

“I’ll bet you were calling for help,” he said. “Rest assured, angel, no one can help you now.”

He bent to reach for her. She expected his touch to be cold and damp, but his fingers were warm as they stroked the line of her jaw.

“I just did you a big favor. Perhaps you could think of some way to thank me.”

She slid away a few inches, shying from his touch. “Don’t you ever do anything that isn’t for evil purposes?”

He smirked. “What, out of the goodness of my heart?” He rubbed his thumb over the sensitive swell of her lower lip. “Serena, my sweet girl, will you ever learn? I’m a demon. This is what I do.”

“Find the inherent goodness that still exists in Julian,”
Arielle had said. At times, Serena had forgotten that Julian was a demon. Had sometimes looked at him as though he were a normal man. But never had she considered that actual
goodness
might be lurking somewhere in him. Despite his own denial of that goodness. Still…maybe the possibility wasn’t as insane as she’d originally thought.

Right now, however, most likely he had
not
saved Nick out of the goodness of his heart. His ulterior motive seemed pretty clear.

“I don’t owe you anything,” she said hesitantly, still confused about Arielle’s advice.

“You’re right,” he said in that low, velvet voice of his. “You don’t. But you’re not doing this because you owe me. You’re doing it because you want me.”

She closed her eyes, felt her hair cascading around her as she shook her head. “I don’t.”

“You’re trembling. It’s not cold,” he said.

“It’s been a difficult night,” she cried. “Maybe it’s the alcohol.” Her gaze wandered toward the open door, and she wondered how she could maneuver herself off the bed.

He tracked her gaze to the exit, raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Where would you go?”

Where, indeed? Back to L.A., even though Arielle had practically ordered her to stay here and honor her promise? Back to Carmel, where her brother was safely at home? He would not be safe for long if she did leave. There was nowhere to go, not when those she loved most would be put in danger by her actions.

“What do you want from me?”

“All I want is for you to lie back and take the pleasure I’m going to give you.”

Slowly, he laid her on the bed. He drew his fingertips down the curve of her chin and the smooth length of her neck. He traced her collarbone, spanning its width, before his touch traveled lower, to the slope of her breasts.

His blue-green gaze was intense as he looked down at her. “You were beautiful tonight,” he said. “All through dinner, I wanted to touch you like this.”

His fingertips trailed down, skimming over the surface of her dress where it covered her breasts. He watched her, drinking in her every reaction, from the moist slip of her tongue over her parted lips, to the rise and fall of her breasts with her rapid breaths.

“I wanted to kiss you like this,” he said.

He claimed her mouth with a groan that seemed to rise up from deep inside him, from a night’s worth of repressed desire. A night he’d spent watching her, wanting her. And she knew it. Secretly, although she was loathe to admit it to herself, she liked it. Now, with his lips and tongue, he teased, sending a white-hot flash searing from her lips down to her core. While he kissed her, his fingers found the zipper at the side of her bodice, unfastening it in one expert flick of his wrist.

She caught at the side of her dress, holding the parted fabric closed. “What are you doing?”

“You’re full of silly questions tonight, aren’t you,” he said. He caught the lobe of her ear in his mouth, gently suckling. His breath was warm and heavy. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he whispered. “I believe in equality, and it seems patently unfair that one of us is still fully dressed.”

He kissed her again, muting the weak sound of protest that died as a mewl in her throat. While his tongue made a stealthy invasion of her mouth, he pushed the frivolous straps of her dress from her shoulders. Then he broke the kiss, his breathing in shallow pants as he eased the silk down. Beneath the dress, she wore a strapless corset from the collection in the closet. She’d had no time to replace the lingerie he’d chosen for her. The corset had been the most tasteful item among the selection, black lace over delicate pink tulle. His inhale was sharp when he saw it, and on his exhale, he whispered, “Exquisite.”

He removed her dress and turned to toss it aside as though discarding a handkerchief. She lay in the corset and its matching G-string, a garment that was no more than a triangular scrap of black-and-pink lace. A garter belt held up back seam stockings, and she still wore her high-heeled sandals. He stripped each item from her one by one. The shoes he tossed in the direction of his own. His fingers were steady and sure as he unclipped her garters and drew each stocking down. He didn’t falter for a second as he unfastened the row of hooks on the corset’s front. He was so familiar with the workings of women’s underclothing that it shocked her. Then she realized that she should hardly be surprised. She was in the hands of a master.

He drew the corset open, reverently baring her breasts. For a moment, he stared, feasting on the sight of her naked flesh, her nipples already beginning to harden beneath his gaze. He took one of her breasts in his hand, squeezing gently and flicking the sensitive bud with his thumb. She arched upward, and he increased the pressure, softly pinching the nipple between his forefinger and thumb until it was erect.

As he touched her, she reached out to explore his body, the surface of his tanned skin, the light patch of hair on the hard contours of his chest. She traced the lines that separated his chiseled abdominal muscles, the sinewy bulk of his arms. Even for a demon, he was beautiful, his body honed to a work of art.

His head dipped, and a groan escaped him as he closed his mouth over her breast, laved the tip with his tongue. He teased, sucked. He moved to the other breast, took its peak between his teeth, carefully stretching, elongating it, until she cried out from the intense mix of pleasure and pain.

Her panties were the last to go, his fingers hooking into the thin elastic string at her hip, pulling them down over her hips to discard them in a second. Then she was naked, under him on the bed as he leaned over her, touched his lips to hers. He smoothed a hand down her stomach, caressing her all the way down to the blond curls between her legs that covered her most secret place. She closed her legs, trapping his hand there. He stilled, looking down at her, the question unspoken but clear in his eyes:
Will you let me?

If they stopped now, nothing would change. She would still have her status as an angel. She sat up, put her hand on his wrist. He stopped, but did not withdraw his hand.

“I think we should stop,” she said in a gasp.

“Spread your legs for me,” he said, low and smooth.

“I can’t. It will be the end of me.” She watched his face, knowing that if he pressed her, she would probably succumb.

But he said with infinite patience, “Serena, I’ve kissed you, touched you before. Do you think just because I touch you here that something will change?”

“You make it sound like it’s nothing,” she said, still holding on to his wrist. She dared a glance into the sea of his gaze, saw the storm gathering there. “You know where this is going.”

“Do you really think that you could be damned just because I put my hands on your body? What kind of divine justice would allow that?”

She hesitated. He had a point. Arielle had been so deliberately vague that Serena wasn’t sure what the consequences of sleeping with Julian might be. She tried to remember again what Arielle had said.
Keep love in your heart.
She had no idea what that meant. Did it mean that if she was in love with Julian, then anything was permissible? It was safe to say that she was
not
in love with him, so where did that leave her? Whatever Arielle had really meant, in the intensity of this moment, it was impossible to figure it out. She had to stop. She needed time to think.

Julian sighed, closed his eyes for a second. She watched him swallow, fighting with himself. They both knew that he could flip her on her back in a second and take what he wanted, without so much as exerting an ounce of force. Her defenses were down; she was vulnerable to his charm. She hoped he wouldn’t use it.

“If that’s what has you worried, I promise you that we will not have intercourse,” he said finally. “I don’t want to take anything that you’re not ready to give.”

“How can I trust you?”

“Trust me? Temptation is my weapon of choice. Coercion, if necessary. But never force. You and I both know that there are rules in the game between angels and demons. Rules that must not be broken. I would be punished severely if I broke my promise. It’s yourself you’re not sure you can trust.”

“But you’re the demon,” she protested, not wanting to listen.

“I may be, but I have a human body and human desires. And so do you. Serena, I hunger for you. Let me pleasure you. I swear, I won’t go any further than you want me to.”

He was right. She did have human desires. She’d been made sexless by her divine role, despite being embodied in flesh and blood.

“Forget I’m a demon. Forget you’re an angel. Let’s be together as man and woman. There are no rules against that.”

For a moment, she relented, let go of her grip on his wrist and relaxed her thighs. His hand moved forward in the subtlest of gestures, the tip of his index finger stroking the opening of her most sacred place. The contact of his touch was so intimate and so pleasurable. And so utterly wrong.

She pushed against him then, levering her legs over the side of the bed. She bolted for the door, not stopping to pick up her discarded clothes. She dared to look back at him, fearing that he might come after her. Some tiny, hidden part of her hoped that he might.

But he made no move from where he reclined on an elbow, watching her with an urbane smile. “Run along, then, angel. It’s only a matter of time before you succumb. And when you do, it will be all the sweeter for having waited.”

She ran back to her own room, slammed the door, locked it behind her. There was no real way of keeping him out, she knew. If he wanted to enter her room, he would find a way. But if only there were some way to lock herself
in.

He was right. It wasn’t him she couldn’t trust. It was herself. She now realized that he wasn’t her greatest tormentor. It was her own desire. He was waging a constant siege on her virtue. But that siege was only effective because she found him so difficult to resist. Without that, she was in no danger whatsoever.

Andrew…Nick…myself. There’s too much at stake,
she realized.
I must resist.

She stopped pacing and leaned her forehead against the windowpane, looking out at the flashing lights of the Strip. The illuminated fountains across the street shot plumes of water into the air; crowds of people gathered in front to watch. She remembered what it was like to be one of them, normal and human. And completely oblivious to the workings of the preternatural world.

Above the city, the sky was a starless black velvet, even though there hadn’t been a cloud in sight for days. The glare of the city lights obliterated the celestial light from above. She wondered how people here in Vegas made their wishes. Then she realized that here, they wished on the beeping lights of slot machines, on the flicker of neon signs and nightclub disco balls.

Maybe it wasn’t luck she needed. Perhaps she needed to appeal to a higher power for help. She closed her eyes.
I pray that I’m doing the right thing. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do or how far I’m supposed to go.

When no answer came, she opened her eyes and gazed up at the night sky again. Then she realized it.
The stars are still up there,
she thought,
it’s just that you can’t see them.
She wished she could hide, just like the stars above Vegas. Wondered if she would appear invisible to Julian if another woman suddenly appeared, blinding him with a brighter light than her own.

Who could she find to distract him? Women seemed to flock to him, as Tiffany had been drawn to him this morning. A hundred other women had slid covert glances over his tall, athletic body as they’d strolled along on the Strip in the afternoon. But the women of Vegas did not deserve the likes of Julian set loose on them. Serena wouldn’t wish a demon on any human being. Not even Tiffany.

The only remaining possibility was Luciana. Something latent and dangerous existed between them, something that might ignite again with a little help. But they were both more powerful than she was. Together, they could destroy her before she had a chance to escape.

Her mind spun, churning through possibilities and options. But in the end, she could not imagine a viable way out. The only realistic solution lay within herself, with her own self-control. She must resist this desire within herself that was threatening to destroy her.

One day finished, and six more to go.

If she survived this week intact, she would consider it a miracle.

Please, help me find some way to bear this.

She closed her eyes, and let her wish rise up to a star she could not see.

Julian was losing his grip on his demon’s nature.

Once again, he watched her go. He heard her door shut, and the sound of the lock clicking echoed in the marble-floored suite. It was the sound of finality, and in this moment it felt as though she was barred from him forever.

Drawing a shaky hand through his hair, he collapsed back on the bed, breathing in shallow pants until the intense feeling of loss passed. How he had managed to remain so casual at the end was a mystery to him, when he’d wanted to dive between her spread legs and taste her, to tease her for an hour or so until she finally came. He’d wanted to take her by the hips, to drive into her until the words
demon
and
angel
had disappeared from her vocabulary and she was reduced to a quivering mass of boneless contentment.

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