Her Demon Prince (Forbidden Fantasy) (14 page)

Taking her time,
she ran her finger under the threaded skin underneath his balls and over the
top. His sac was nice and heavy.

Bending forward
she licked the sweet-tasting pre-come off his cock, and slid the head of his
penis in her mouth. He tasted great, making her want to savor every inch of
this man’s body. Looking up she said, “I'm glad no one has ever done this to
you before. I'm glad I'm the first one.”

“You frighten
me, Phoebe,” he said.

She laughed.

“Your eyes look
different,” he said.

“How so?”

“Wicked,” he
said. His whole body tensed and he didn’t take his gaze off her.

“I have you in
the palm of my hands. It's called possession. You don't have the monopoly on
that.” In this blind moment, he was hers. All hers. She licked along the shaft
of his cock and the head bobbed so that she took it in her mouth and ran her
tongue along the rim. With delicate precision she flicked her tongue along the
edge of his cock-head.

Every cord of
muscle banded on his body so that the veins in his neck popped and the extreme
tension in his thighs made them bulge as she took him fully into her mouth. It
amazed and thrilled her that such a strong warrior of a man could appear
vulnerable and submissive when she had him between her lips.

Agrat groaned.

She increased
her pace, tightening her lips around his cock. Working her head up and down.

Every muscled
ridge showed on Agrat’s stomach as he clearly remained on the knife’s edge of
passion. Glancing upwards, she saw his eyes glow. It didn't scare her. A glow
she could cope with. Agrat was all about desire and that was what she liked
about him, because she was passionate herself. She took him deep until he
touched the back of her throat.

A deep groan
left his throat as he came, shuddering and heaving his pleasure.

When she
released him, his whole body slumped against the shower wall as he fought to
catch his breath. His face held a dazed expression that brought a smile of
satisfaction to her lips.

She opened her
mouth and allowed the shower water to fill and rinse it, satisfied that she had
left her mark on him, knowing that when a woman wants a man to come in her
mouth, it's because he is hers.

Phoebe took hold
of his hand, placed the soap in it and faced the shower wall, bracing her hands
against the wall. "Your turn to wash my back."

He chuckled. A
sound she'd never heard leave his lips before.

The prince took
the soap from her and made large circles on her back before his hand slipped
around to soap her breasts. She felt him lean against her back, his cock
brushing against her skin and realized she hadn't ever felt like this about any
man.

He was hers.

Chapter 11

Phoebe sat on the corner of
the bed to dress marveling at just how comfortable she felt with Agrat,
considering how little she knew him. She gathered up her jeans, belt and
tee-shirt
, deciding to go commando after washing her
underwear and hanging them on the heated towel rail to dry. How long could she
go without a change of clothes?
One day, maybe.
Two
max. She'd have to find something else to wear so she could wash the clothes
she was in.

"Agrat, do
you eat?" He
lay
on the bed near her, totally
naked, his eyes hooded as he watched her slide into her jeans.

"Come
closer and you'll find out."

Her stomach
rumbled. "I mean food. Human food," she said, jumping up and dodging
his hand as he grabbed for her to pull her back onto the bed.

"I can eat,
but I recharge faster using the energy of my ancestors. They feed me with
everything I need. Earth keeps me grounded. Wind gives the ability to move from
one place to another with stealth. Water is cooling and calming, though
sometimes I commanded it to surround my enemies in a surprise attack. Fire is
my weapon of choice and the easiest for me to command. I was told that my
mother, in extreme anger, would become a wall of fire. All would flee before
her."

"I get
that. I can cope when your eyes glow. Fire's scary.
A wall of
fire though?
Eeep!"

"Do not
fear
,
I have never done it." He smiled. "In
answer to your question, I do not require food, but my men used to enjoy it
when I ate with them after battle. As for drinking, after a day on the
battlefield, I enjoyed ale."

"You and a
whole lot of other guys," she said, her tone droll. "I've defrosted
steak and packet vegetables. Do you think you would like to try some?"

"I'd prefer
a bolt of lightning."

"You got that
in the shower," she quipped. "You'll have to settle for steak
now."

He stood and
walked over to her, the sharp angles of his face relaxed, his body oozing
repletion. Just one glance down and she realized his satiation point wouldn't
last long. He didn't seem to have an off button, but from a guy who ate
lightning for dinner that didn't surprise her.

She walked to
the wardrobe, slid open the door and pulled out some clothes. "I've found
these in the wardrobe for you. There's nothing in there for women unfortunately."
She held out a pair of jeans, underpants that still had the label and a shirt.
"There's a whole assortment of sizes in the wardrobe. I guess some
informers don't bring a change of clothes. These are the biggest I could find.
We have some basketball players in this country who are as tall as you."

His lips turned
up into a smile as he took the jeans and shirt from her. "You wish me to
dress as a man of your time?"

"If you
plan to stay, you need to adopt our customs so you don't draw attention to
yourself."

He stared at
her, his dark-eyed gaze intent. "It is my pledge upon my life to stay,
love and protect you forever."

Phoebe's hand
moved to her heart and she could feel it pattering under her fingertips.
"This is all so new, so very new." She knew her reply sounded on the
edge of trite, but to say anything more was overwhelming. The thought that she
could love this man was terrifying.

Agrat took her
in his arms. "Not new.
Old, ancient love.
What
you feel for me is in your memory
;
in your cells. Do
not fight what you feel. You are mine." His lips were on hers and she
kissed him back, her body molding to his as if it knew what to do. His lips
were firm with possession and she sank into the kiss, her tongue grazing his.
It felt so right, so normal to be in his arms.

She pulled away.
"When I'm with you…it's like I'm mesmerized. Are you using your powers to
seduce me?"

"Would you
like me to?"

"No! I need
to think clearly."

"I'm not
using them on you. It was always like this for us."

Her heart was
light and dancing from the kiss. "Try this on. I want to see what you
would look like as a man from my time," she said, pointing to the shirt he
was holding.

He inserted his
muscled arms into the shirt. "This garment will not serve well for
war," he said, plucking at the thin fabric.

"It's not
for battle. It's for everyday dress." She paused, wondering whether to
broach the subject on her mind. "Agrat, when I'm with you, you always
smell so nice. How do you manage that? Don't you have to wash?"

"When I
dematerialize my cells go back to their original form, but I like to bathe. I
had pools installed in my palace for the slaves to wash my garments, though on
campaign I called my ancestors to lash my garments with rain. There were also
large pools to bathe in at my palace, but there was nothing like the
shower." He smiled, his teeth flashing white as he adjusted the shirt.

She had a
feeling he'd never forget his first shower. She handed him the underpants.
"Step into them."

He stared at the
underpants, his brow quizzical, but did as she suggested. "You wish to
contain me?"

"That'd be
like trying to control a volcano." She bit her lips to stop herself
laughing as he shifted and pulled at the underwear. "Try dressing to the
side."

"Why?"

"In our
society, it's for modesty. Don't tell me you need help. One touch from me and
the underwear won't fit." She watched him adjusting the underwear and
shook her head. "Oh forget it. Take them off."

She took the
underwear back and handed him the jeans, glad they weren't skinny leg because
they'd never fit over his bulging thighs.

He slid them on
and she stepped up to him, zipping up the fly and buttoning the top of his
jeans. The jeans were tight and molded around his buttocks. "Heaven help
the women of America if they see you like that. You'll be mobbed."

"I am
yours. Only yours," he said, his voice serious as he plucked the clinging
denim from his hips. "And I do this to please you because to me it feels
unnatural. I swear the palace eunuchs were contained in this way to take their
manhood."

Phoebe laughed.
There was something heartwarming about his compliance and it made her wonder
why she had been frightened of him in the first place when his formidable power
had never been directed at her. She buttoned up the shirt and slid her hands
around the back tucking it into the jeans while he stood patiently allowing her
to attend to him. It was slightly tight across the front, pulling at his
pectoral muscles and short in the arms, so she rolled up the sleeves to the
elbow. With his long, dark hair he looked like a Milanese catwalk model on
steroids.
Darkly handsome.
She fought the urge to run
her hands down his shirt-front knowing she'd end up flat on her back on the bed
if she gave him any encouragement. Instead, she stood on her toes, gently
pulled his hair out from under the shirt collar, conscious of his warm breath
on her face and how the skin on his neck was tantalizingly close to kiss.

He looked down
and moved his arms back and forth. "I am not used to having my limbs
contained."

"This is
what men wear at home for comfort. They don't complain."

His face showed
disbelief as he tugged at the crotch of his jeans.

"I'm
starving. I need to eat," she said, escaping to the kitchen before he
could pull off the jeans and get naked again, because of one thing she was
certain — if he were naked, he'd be trying to get her naked too and she
needed food.

He followed her
to the kitchen where she took out a pan, tipped a little oil into it and placed
two steaks on it to fry. She put the vegetables into a microwave dish with a
touch of water and turned the machine on.

Agrat stalked
around the kitchen, opening and closing kitchen cupboards.

"The plates
are in the cupboard above the sink," she said, before turning her
attention back to the steak. Taking a deep breath, she realized for the first
time she was relaxed enough to eat. The bread she'd toasted earlier had become
a lump in her stomach after Agrat had left her; her stomach growled with
hunger.

He took down the
plates and a glass before moving on to open other cupboards. On finding one
cupboard locked, he snapped his fingers and his dagger appeared in his hand. He
began to prize the cupboard open.

Phoebe turned.
"What are you doing?"

"This
cupboard is locked," he said. The hinge groaned as he inserted his fingers
into the space he'd made with his dagger.

"A locked
cupboard means keep out."

"The
alcohol is in here. The cop could not be trusted with access to the key."
The hinges groaned and snapped.

"Why
doesn't that surprise me?" Phoebe shook her head and turned her attention
back to the steaks. She'd given up trying to sweat the small stuff with Agrat's
unconventional behavior. So long as he didn't hurt or kill anyone, she could
cope.

The prince took
out a beer, poured half into a glass and brought it over to her.
"Thanks." She took the glass and sipped on the ale. Picking up the
frypan, she transferred the steaks to the plates and served up the steamed
vegetables.

“Phoeeebe…”

"Pardon?"
She turned. The voice like a whisper in her head startled Phoebe. She raised
her head and looked at Agrat. "Did you say something?"

Agrat narrowed
his eyes and took a sip of his beer. "I did not utter a word. I was
savoring the delight of this substance. The flavor of ale has changed much from
my time. It has taste and air."

"Hops and
bubbles."

He was leaning
against the kitchen bench, in jeans that molded to his butt and thighs, his
expression thoughtful. A tingling sensation stirred between her thighs. He had
lost that brooding, watchful quality she associated with him. Phoebe smiled,
marveling at how quickly he had turned her thoughts about him around.
"That cop's a bad influence on you. Come and eat."

He took the
plate from her and when the tips of his fingers brushed hers a current, little
more than a soft vibration, passed between them.

Intimate.

A
gentle caress.

After placing
the plate on the table, he pulled out her chair so she could sit,
then
sat in his seat looking at the steak, his expression
puzzled.

Phoebe cut her
steak and put a bite of it into her mouth, savoring the flavor. She noticed he
wasn't eating. "What?"

"I do not
recognize the beast that this comes from." He took his fork, speared the
steak and held it up to the light.

"It's from
a cow," she replied before taking another bite.

"Do you not
thank the animal for giving us the gift of its life before you consume
it?" he asked, putting it back on the plate.

Phoebe looked at
her medium rare steak as the blood oozed out. She tried not to think about
where it had come from. "Um, no." Her fork hovered over the next
piece of steak. She speared a vegetable instead.

"On
campaign, it was our custom to thank the animal for the sacrifice of its life
before we slaughtered and roasted it on a spit."

Phoebe slapped
her fork down. "Would you like to say grace?"

"Grace?"

"We can
thank God for this meal."

"But it is
the beast that gave up its life," he said, clearly puzzled.

"How about
you thank the 'beast'?" Phoebe suggested.

"As you
wish." Agrat put his hands together in a prayer position. "Noble
beast of the fields, we thank you for the gift of your life. Your
life-force
was sacrificed so that we may live. We thank you
for the gift of sustenance." He bowed his head.

Phoebe bowed her
head to her steak, wishing she'd had the ingredients to make risotto. She
picked up her fork.

"What part
of the beast is this? It's soft. It has an unusual texture like the
tongue."

Phoebe gulped, grabbed
her glass of beer and swallowed. "I don't know. Our meat is excellent.
Tender. Why do you ask? I'm sure it's not a tongue."

He watched her
maneuver the knife and fork and followed her example. Cutting a piece, he put
it to his mouth, chewed it thoughtfully and swallowed. "My people believed
certain parts of the beast contained properties.
Blood gives
fortitude, the eyes the gift of all seeing
,
the heart
encourages valiance
. My men fought over the testes and penis."

"I think
I'll cook pasta tomorrow," she muttered, shoving in another piece of steak
and chewing it mechanically.

“Phoeeebe…”

Phoebe dropped
the fork. It landed with a clatter on her plate. "What was that? That's
the second time someone called my name."

"I heard
nothing." Agrat stood. A frown creased his brow and he seemed to grow
bigger. Sparks flew off his body. "My hearing range far exceeds a human’s."