Chapter 8

Chapter8

Briar

It’s blatantly clear Sol had every intention of sending me back to my room. It’s equally clear that I’ve shocked him with the request to sit with him. That’s fair. I’ve shocked myself. My damned curiosity has a hold of me, and the fact Sol is obviously trying his best not to overwhelm or scare me is…

I don’t know.

I hardly feel like myself as he nods slowly and lifts a hand in obvious invitation. It’s not until I’m moving, carefully placing my hand in his, that my brain catches up enough to ask me where I intend to sit.

In that moment, if Sol pulled me onto his lap, I honestly don’t know what I’d do.

He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He simply tugs me to sit at his side. His tail shifts against my back, tightening the slightest amount, scooting me closer until we’re plastered together from knee to shoulder. He’s so warm. I don’t even think to tense. I melt instead.

Sol awkwardly drapes his massive arm around my shoulders, and the sheer size of him has my lower stomach doing strange things. By all rights, I should be terrified of him. Ethan taught me many hard lessons over the course of our marriage, the first being that my instincts are trash. I trusted that man enough to marry him and look what happened.

With my track record, Sol is more likely to eat me whole than to be kind to me, contract or no.

Maybe that’s the difference. The contract. The stakes are so high—so much higher for him than they are for me—that I feel safe. That must be it. It’s the only logical explanation. I relax against him further. The texture of his scales against my cheek really is nice. He’s smooth and warm and…

“How would it work?”

Sol goes so still against me, he might as well have turned to stone. “Excuse me?”

“Sex. That’s why you were there at the auction, right? Or you were there for a bride to have children with, but children are often a product of sex, so the question stands. How would it work?” Though I don’t know if it was actually an auction in the strictest sense of the word. As far as I can tell, there was no bidding or funds exchanged. They just claimed each one of us and then signed a contract with their territories in the balance. At least if the terms of the other contracts were the same as Sol’s and mine.

He still hasn’t moved. “We don’t need to talk about this.”

“I kind of think we do.” It’s easier without looking at him, trying to read his expression when I’m still not familiar enough to pull it off. Body language is simpler. He hisses and flares his crest when agitated, and neither of those things are happening right now. What’s more, he’s still keeping his touch on me carefully light as if he’s afraid I’ll bolt if he moves too quickly.

Or as if he’s deciding whether he wants to bolt right now.

“Though, if you intend to seduce me, you’re going about it strangely. Or is this one of those hunting games predators play? I don’t have much to go on, and I’d like not to make assumptions because there are obvious cultural differences between us.”

He shudders out a very human-sounding breath. “You didn’t want to be married.”

Of all the things I anticipated him saying, this didn’t number among them. I blink. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You were married before.” His tail shifts against my back, tucking me closer yet. “That’s why you made your bargain with Azazel.”

I don’t particularly want to talk about my past, but it’s hard to cling to that when I’m so far beyond Ethan’s reach. If the blood on Azazel’s hands was any indication, I’m out of his reach forever.

I won’t shed my fear so easily, won’t stop looking over my shoulder when I finally return to my realm. Being here? Like this? It almost feels like a dream. Like nothing bad can touch me.

Dangerous thoughts.

You’re disassociating.

Maybe. Maybe it’s pure self-preservation, but until Sol gives me a reason not to trust the demon contract, I can let this comfortable numbness twine with my curiosity for a little longer. “Yes,” I finally say. “I do believe he intended to kill me before he let me go. My husband, I mean. Not Azazel, of course.” My voice doesn’t sound quite right.

A hiss rattles through Sol’s chest. “You must think highly of me to expect me try seducing you when you’re practically bleeding out at my feet.”

I sit up. “I’m not bleeding. Azazel healed my wounds. Or had someone else do it.”

He jolts, and I realize that was exactly the wrong thing to say. Sol looks down at me, and for the first time, I realize how warm his dark eyes normally are, because they’re not right now. They’re cold and dangerous, and I’ve never been more reminded that he is predator and I am prey than in this moment.

I do what all prey animals do when running means death. I freeze.

He holds me captive with that stare for several torturous beats of my racing heart. “You insult me.”

Common sense says to shut the hell up, but my common sense has gone the way of my fear, smothered beneath numbness and curiosity and the tiniest spark of desire. He’s angry at me, yes, but he’s also angry on my behalf. It’s strange. “Why wouldn’t you want sex if I were offering? I thought all men want sex all the time?” That’s certainly how Ethan acted.

His hisses louder. “Fine, Briar. Would you like to know how sex would work with us?” His tail loosens around me, taking its glorious warmth with it, and he slides his arm from my shoulders to the back of the couch. I’m adrift, which makes his next words hit like hammer blows. “I’m not interested in splitting you in half, so I’ll rip off whatever charming little dress you’re wearing with my teeth and then taste you until you’re riding my tongue and begging for more. Then, if I’m feeling particularly generous, I’ll give you both my cocks, one at a time.”

“Wait,” I whisper.

He leans down, his hot breath ruffling my hair. “And then I’m going to fill you up, Briar. How much of me can you take? There’s only one way to find out.”

My body takes off while my mind is still trying to process the full depth of his promise. I’m on my feet with no memory of making the decision to stand. “You are such an asshole.” I flee the room, but not so quickly that I miss his low statement biting at my heels.

“If you’re so determined to think me a monster, then I’ll play monster for you.”

It’s not until I find my way back to my room, heart still beating too hard and breath coming too fast, that I realize what just happened. I ran. And he didn’t chase me.

I slam the door, and I can’t decide if I’m angrier at him or myself. I blundered that, and badly. I had to rely on Sol to slam us back into safe territory, because if he’d flirted a little and kept up that intoxicating warmth against my body, I might have forgotten all my determination to stay away from him and done something unforgivable.

It’s the numbness’s fault.

Or maybe my curiosity is to blame.

I drop onto the edge of the mattress and curse. It feels good to snarl words that would have gotten me into danger with Ethan, so I do it again. “That fucking asshole.” I don’t know if I’m talking about Sol or Ethan or maybe even myself. I stand and drag my hands through my hair.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not acting like my usually careful, cautious self. There is nothing careful or cautious about dangling sex in front of Sol to see what he’d do. Because that’s exactly what I was up to when I asked that question.

Well. I know what he’ll do now.

Pacing about the room does little to bleed off the adrenaline surging through my system. That must be to blame for the images that take up residence just behind my eyes. Of Sol ripping through this dress with those sharp teeth, of him bearing me down to the ground and spreading my legs with rough, but careful, movements. His mouth is so big, he’d have to practically encase me to get his tongue to my pussy. I shiver at the bolt of pure lust that nearly takes me off my feet.

All those sharp teeth pressed against my vulnerable skin. His tongue on me…in me.

Once again, my body takes over, but this time my mind is fully on board with the idea. I drag off the dress and flop back onto the bed. There were no underthings in the clothing Aldis provided, so there’s nothing in the way of my questing fingers as I slide my hand down my stomach and spread my legs.

I’m so wet. God, I can’t believe how turned on I am.

And…two cocks.

I press two fingers into my pussy. Better to focus on the fantasy, because surely reality can’t be as good as my mind insists. I didn’t like any kind of sex with Ethan. There’s no reason to believe it would be different with Sol. It’s just pretend, though, and nothing can hurt in my mind.

The temptation to push through, to make this quick and furtive, nearly overwhelms me. I didn’t masturbate often up to this point, because I was always aware that if I were caught, it wouldn’t go well for me. That kind of thing puts a damper on pleasure, at least for me.

But if Sol caught me?

If he walked through the door right now and saw me with my hand between my legs? What would he do? Take it as an invitation? Or maybe he’d sit in that chair right there and watch.

He’s so controlled. Even knowing him such a short time, I recognize that. I don’t know if I’d have the courage to actually invite him to touch me, but this is just fantasy. In my mind, he comes to stand at the edge of the bed. To press one of those big knees to the mattress and lean over me. To…

I pick up my pace. My orgasm is too close to stop, too strong to do anything but ride out with a low moan that I don’t even think to muffle. I whimper and jerk my fingers away from my clit. Now is when the shame will come, ruining the afterglow.

Except…it doesn’t.

I stare at the ceiling as my racing heart finally slows and the languid pleasure of my orgasm makes my eyelids heavy. Maybe things are different here, after all. At least in this. I pull the blankets around me and roll over to settle into bed.

I can admit—if only to myself—that I wouldn’t have minded so much if that fantasy had played out in reality.