Page 64 of Mated to Monsters

This should be under the purview of the Counselor of the Forge, and he does launch into a dull monologue about the massive energy required to cast such high magic spells, but fortunately my Counselor of War interrupts him with a boastful plan for updated weaponry once the soz’garoth manifest the metal we require, giving me more time to dwell in my increasingly heated thoughts.

Thinking of the human woman is much more entertaining than tallying up supplies and resolving land disputes. I fantasize until the council dissolves, and I saunter back out into the courtyard, where a team of soz’garoth are repairing the fallen statue.

“A lightning strike, my Prince,” Vaemek murmurs. “Did you happen to see it?”

“Ah…”

Yedina is draped across one of the soz’garoth, her lips pressed against his ear. Thankfully her eyes are downcast, giving me time to spin on my feet and march towards the gate.

“My Prince?”

“I thought I’d visit directly with my subjects today. Join me.”

“It would be my pleasure, my prince.” If Vaemek’s eyes widen when he realizes I’m avoiding Yedina’s path, at least he has the sense not to mention anything aloud. He trails behind me, wings flapping as he keeps pace with my steps. “Would you like to start with the Ur’rok family? They’ve petitioned you recently.”

I’d like to start with my human, tied and blindfolded again. There’s something delectable about having her so helpless, watching her struggle not to react. Watching her fail. I want to tease her until she’s slick and wanting, and then I want to taste her until she screams.

“Where else would we start? Lead the way.”

I’ve barely started torturing her. I can’t wait for the evening to come. I have so much planned for that beautiful body of hers.

41

LAURA

I ache so much it’s absurd.

He must have done something to me, I think. Some sort of demon magic I have no defense against. I’ve never seen him out of his armor – he might look like one of those odd beasts the Demon King kept around the palace for entertainment. He certainly fought like one. But it doesn’t matter what he looks like. He conquered me without so much as a word, and worse, he left me wanting.

“Damn you,” I hiss, cursing him. My hands chase down my body of their own accord. I’m restless against this strange bed, as though my skin is too tight for my body. The sheets feel like nothing on Protheka. I’ve helped sew together magic clothes for the dark elves, and those materials were soft and supple, but this? This is like a dream. It’s softer than the silk he’d used to tie me up, but the texture still makes me sweat.

I’d been entirely helpless. At his mercy. He could have done anything to me, anything at all, and I’d wanted him to. The fabric slides over my skin, taunting me, and I tug my tunic down over my breasts so my nipples can rub against it.

It’s nothing like his mouth.

I trace my hands down my thighs as slowly as his mouth tasted them, lingering where he’d lingered.

I want more.

I want him.

Frustrated, I push myself off of the bed and tug my tunic back to position. He’s a prince, and this is clearly a palace. He has to be somewhere.

“It’s rude not to finish what you started,” I mutter to myself.

“Is that so?”

It’s a masculine voice, but not his. A pair of dark elves glide into my room without knocking, and my cheeks burn to think of what they might have seen if they’d arrived only minutes before.

Am I truly going to spend my entire life being humiliated by these creatures?

I hold my tongue, both because I suppose I’m a prisoner of sorts and because while their pointy ears and oily grins remind me of slavery on Protheka, these elves have done nothing to me personally.

“Not yet, at least,” I remind myself.

Sure, they trail after me every time I attempt to leave the room, and I seem to be corralled on this floor, because every time I try and walk down the stairs one of them chases me back up them like a testy nanny. But they also leave me food and clothes, and they haven’t raised a hand to me, which is a first with dark elves.

The servants hang the new clothes they’ve brought for me with a flick of two fingers, and then shoot me a disdainful look on their way out.