Soft, wet kisses were taking place in that cabin, on a narrow bed without much comfort. But neither Lorcan nor Daphne cared. They lay on their sides, she with her eyes closed but not asleep, and he watching her nudity while his palm devotedly caressed her back.
What a fool he had been! Lorcan had thought. The woman at his side was making him feel complete as if that piece he had never thought he was missing was indeed missing, and now she had been found. To give meaning to his existence. Lorcan, without acknowledging it, was already in love with her.
“I like that,” Daphne murmured, referring to his caresses. Opening her eyes, she met his gaze. What Daphne felt in that instant was practically impossible to explain. Lorcan, all muscle, implacable features, and the now gentle look in his eyes filled her with a sense of security and confidence. She felt like she could sleep beside him peacefully and not think about the outside world that awaited them on the other side of the door. For the first time, she felt that protection from someone, without needing to hold the reins of her own safety.
Lorcan planted a kiss on her shoulder. And then another and another. She smiled. Those little kisses turned into a string of others, disorganized and yet replacing the memory of her wounds. Lorcan kissed all over her back, every one of her scars and that blessed mark he now revered.
The mark was one stretch short of turning dark. “Your mark has changed its color.” He said, returning to her.
Could it be that the mark has changed because his feelings for me have changed? She didn’t dare say it out loud or even ask him. She saw no sign of the bond between the two of them in his body. Why was that?
Daphne looked at him with intensity, and he smiled, and she knew why. Her amber irises were now black and seeing that smile of his. It was the first time she had ever seen him smile genuinely. And it was such a sensual, captivating display that Lorcan caught a hint of her arousal immediately. Daphne threw herself at him to steal that smile and keep it for herself. And he pulled her closer to him, pressing her sleek, full breasts to his broad, rigid torso.
Lorcan broke the kiss to look at her face, pulling a curly lock of hair away from her cheek and tucking it behind her ear.
“Forgive me,” he said.
“For everything, I said and did at the beginning. For making you suffer, for leaving you at the mercy of Rothvaln.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me right now. But I do expect to be able to repay you for eternity for everything I put you through. I was an idiot to you. My hatred, my anger towards him blinded me, Daphne.”
“Let’s not talk about him now.”
“What do you want to talk about then, mo lhkora.” Mo lhkora.
“What does that mean?”
“Will you ever teach me the language of demons?”
“Of course. Don’t ever hesitate to ask me for anything.”
“Thank you.” She said. And he kissed her again.
“Lorcan, how did Rothvaln catch you and leave you in that place?”
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about him.” He teased.
“How did the Demon King end up in that place?” she asked, referring to Lorcan himself.
“Rothvaln used a witch to capture me.”
“My Demonic name was revealed to the witch. Sorana, in her obsession with Rothvaln, told him. Sorana had always been the one closest to me. I trusted her.”
“You know her demonic name too?”
“Yes,” Lorcan replied. “But I could never do to her what she did to me. But that doesn’t mean she’ll be free of my punishment once I find her.”
“Then how did you get trapped in that place?” Daphne questioned further.
“How exactly the witch did it, I have no idea. That time, I was with Teias discussing the Legions, and one moment I was there with him and the next I was in that cave, trapped with the Embrace of the Abyss.”
“The Embrace of the Abyss?”
“That’s what had my hands tied. Remember?”
“The branches with thorns?” Daphne asked. Lorcan nodded.
“Rothvaln was there with the witch. I tried to free myself from the Embrace of the Abyss. But it was useless. The witch was powerful. And when I thought to summon all the Realm power, Rothvaln used Sorana to get that power. He took her to that place. There, kneeling, Sorana began to be tortured by Rothvaln. He demanded the power of the Realm, to become the King in exchange for not throwing Sorana into the Abyss.”
“That was how you lost your power over the Kingdom.” Daphne reaffirmed. “How are you supposed to get it back?”
“By sending Rothvaln into the Abyss. But I can’t, and neither can the other Lords.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rothvaln belonged to the Five Lords under my reign. We all had a pact, to protect our lives. That’s why none of us can send him to the Abyss. And Stelios, though he is the youngest Lord, also made the pact with Rothvaln.”
“Then someone else would have to do it,” Daphne said thoughtfully. Perhaps...
“You don’t have to worry about that, Mo lhkora. I will find a way to get Sorana out of there.”
Daphne let out a giggle as her demon moved behind her, leaving her lying face down. His mischievous lips traveled over every scar on her backside and every line of her mark. Those kisses descended to the entrance of her buttocks. Lorcan grabbed them and left little nibbles on them, and Daphne sometimes couldn’t help but giggle at the sensation of faint pain and his firm, rough hands caressing her skin.
Lorcan moved back to her, this time finding her earlobe, licking and sucking. And Daphne moaned at the new discovery of one of her weak spots. His shaft, hard and ready, brushed between her buttocks, and she liked the feel of it. To feel the power she wielded over him. Lorcan’s hand was trapped between the bed and the lips of her sex. And he began to move those mischievous fingers gently, in circular motions, while his teeth left inviting nibbles on her shoulder.
“Spread your legs wider,” Lorcan ordered her, and she did so.
The orgasmic sensation commenced to grow once more but stopped abruptly when Lorcan, with the strength and speed he possessed, moved behind her, lying on his side and lifting one of her legs. Daphne exposed her bare breasts to his view as those masculine fingers again sought her flesh. The pressure he exerted with his fingertips was focused, slow and circular, tormenting her with each breath.
Daphne felt her body begin to tighten, that orgasm would announce itself at any moment, and Lorcan was still drawing her in. The demon felt triumph once more as she clutched the sheets and moaned loudly. Releasing that majestic pressure that assaulted her body.
“Please,” she cried as he continued his torture.
“Please what?” he asked.
“Please-” Her words stopped short.
“Say it. What do you want?”
And it was enough for him. Daphne moaned again as she felt him inside her. He moved slowly, and yet he came deep enough in her. And she liked this new way of loving, of feeling the raw power of lust. She suddenly found herself with her knees and palms against the bed. Exposing her back and buttocks to him. She could feel him again.
His lips were kissing her back again, but his hands were still playing with her sensitive, swollen flesh. Lorcan pulled her to him, turning her face and kissing her with unparalleled desire. His hand wrapped around one of her breasts, squeezing it as their kiss intensified. And with the same passion of that kiss, he pulled her away from him and thrust into her. Slowly but fully. Daphne was experiencing the sensation of being tamed, and though she didn’t dislike it, she was beginning to yearn to take him over. To show him as forcefully that she could too.
Those thrusts were delivered at a frantic pace. Lorcan gripped her hips hard, wanting to consume her and leave his name on her in every possible way. But he needed to kiss her and see her face as she once again was assaulted by the pleasure only he was capable of giving her.
Lorcan lay her flat on her back now and continued his movements inside her. As she tasted his tongue and lips hungrily now. Hungry for him.
That intense moment came to an end when they both reached the climax of their lust again.
And after a short time, Daphne closed her eyes, relaxing.
The temperature was low again; Daphne was still walking on a ground full of leaves that she knew were dry, although she couldn’t see them. Her feet were wet; there was no doubt about it. She could feel the water on them. Cold, almost like ice. But the witch’s voice kept repeating once again that she was not to look at the ground under any circumstances. Daphne kept moving forward until she reached the hut that belonged to an old memory, one from many years ago.
“Daphne, open the door and don’t look down,” Agate instructed.
She opened the door, but it was too dark to go in.
“Don’t be afraid. Nothing will happen.” Agate assured her.
But Daphne didn’t move, for those cold feet that belonged to her were beginning to feel warm, and she felt herself drifting away from that place, away from that old memory. And the witch’s voice disappeared.
Daphne opened her eyes and found her demon kissing her cheeks and now her lips.