Bound By Desire (The Acadian Curse) Page 9

  As her heartbeat slowed and her breath relaxed, Hettie was uncomfortably aware of how wet she was inside her drawers. Well, it was no wonder with all she’d seen. And Lord Dowerdon’s imposing presence had not helped. The combination made her wish fervently that she weren’t laced so tightly into her stays as to make it impossible to give herself relief in a quick and efficient manner. Anthony had liked to watch her touch herself. But despite Lord Dowerdon’s assurance that she would be left entirely alone, she could not relax long enough to bring herself to climax. That would have to wait until later when she was snug in her bed and in no danger of being discovered by unknown persons tramping through the woods in search of carnal enticements. She was not putting herself on the menu of Sin Fair vignettes.

  Finally, in a desperate bid to take her thoughts off her growing need, she glanced over the bramble and saw at once the woman kneeling on the ground at the base of a thick pole to which her hands were chained. Her naked skin glowed pale against the dark foliage of the forest, and she was, as Lord Dowerdon had said, blindfolded. She sat still as glass, head bowed, bound hands resting on her thighs. Hettie decided this was pretty tame stuff compared to what all else she’d seen that night.

  As she watched the woman, she wondered what the night air felt like against her bare breasts. It must be interesting to be undressed outdoors. Surely at one time, people would have cavorted naked in the woods instead of being trussed into stays and layers of heavy clothes. Hettie thought it must be very freeing to sit naked in the woods. She might not mind that.

  Then she got to wondering what it would feel like to have chains bind her wrists. Unconsciously, she crossed her wrists in her lap, mimicking the naked woman’s pose. Did she have shackles on? It was difficult to tell at the distance of some thirty feet or so that separated Hettie from the woman. Surely shackles would bite into tender flesh and rub against delicate bones. Yet the woman did not look uncomfortable. She appeared composed. Tranquil even.

  Just then a twig snapped beneath a heavy foot, and both Hettie and the woman she watched straightened their shoulders. Hettie looked wildly around for the source of the noise, but the woman kept her head bent submissively. There was tension in her back though, where there had been none.

  A faint and wavering light moved toward the woman from opposite Hettie’s hiding place. A few heartbeats later a torch, held aloft, threw leaping shadows into the clearing where the woman was chained. The sudden light blinded Hettie, but when her eyes adjusted, she saw it was borne by a heavy-set bearded man. He came to a sudden halt when he caught sight of the helpless captive.

  Without a word, he rammed the torch into the ground so that it illuminated the woman. From the ground, he raised two more unlit torches, touched them to the first, and staked them where they threw light on her from three sides. Then he circled her slowly, his eyes gleaming in the torchlight, his gaze hungry. He stopped in front of her, looking her up and down, and then very slowly pulled off his gloves, one finger at a time.

  Hettie was mesmerized by his desire. It gave him a dangerous, predatory air that thrilled her as much as anything she had seen that night. It made her want to be looked at that way.

  It made her want Lord Dowerdon to look at her that way.

  She wondered if the chained woman could feel the man’s eyes upon her. Surely she must. Hettie could practically feel it, and he wasn’t even aware she was present. What did it feel like to be the recipient of the full focus of an unknown man’s lust? He might be anyone. Friend. Lover. Foe. Stranger.

  Heat flooded Hettie from head to toe with particular intensity in her middle regions. Any measure of composure she had regained vanished. Utterly.

  The man took the lady’s chains in hand and drew her hands up. Holding them at shoulder height, he touched one finger to her bonds, then drew it up the inside of her wrist to her elbow. A shudder rocked her shoulders, whether from fear or passion Hettie could not tell. Then he reached for a breast and grabbed it like a piece of fruit, squeezing and hefting its weight in his palm before he closed his hand over her like a man milking a cow’s teat. He pulled hard enough to make her gasp. Hettie saw his teeth glint white in the firelight when he smiled. Then he did the same to her other breast, handling her very roughly indeed. And all the while, the woman kept her head bowed and made not one sound after that first gasp.

  He touched her everywhere, measuring, weighing the charms of her body like so much produce in the marketplace, his eyes judging her worth. He filled his hands with her buttocks, jiggling and squeezing, and finally giving her a sound swat on the rump. Then he prodded her to her feet whereupon he took up a bar resting at the base of the pole, kicked her feet apart, and clamped it to the shackles on her ankles, now clearly visible in the torchlight, as were those on her wrists. Then he stood behind her and bent her over at the waist, leaving her to hang with her arms supported by the chains, and with her sex tipped back for his delectation. Tilting his head this way and that, he admired her submissive pose from every angle.

  More than she had ever wanted anything in her life, Hettie wanted to be looked at like that. Naked. Completely exposed. Offering herself to be used. Though she sat absolutely still, her womb ached with longing, and her sex wept for the opportunity to be in that woman’s place.

  EXCERPT: The Demon’s Bargain

  By Lisa Alder

  Earth 2025

  Subtle light flickered against the black walls. Blood red velvet drapes hung at the windows and let in the fading rays of the sun. While flames licked at the soot-stained stone, Vetis, Demon of Corruption, lounged in the velvet upholstered chair, one leg flung over the ornately carved wooden arm, and stared disinterestedly at the destructive, seductive beauty of the flames.

  Gods, he needed a distraction. A challenge.

  Prince Gaap had ordered them all to gather as much human energy as possible to prepare for an imminent attack by the Fae. Intelligence suggested the Fae would advance soon. The Demons had to be ready. A battle was coming. He understood. And he would fight to the death before he spent another moment trapped beneath the Earth again. But Vetis was deadly bored with siphoning the energy from dissolute humans bent on destroying their lives with greed.

  “A visitor, my Lord.” His current butler, Figgins, bowed.

  “Who is it?” Did he even want to know? He swallowed the compulsion to send away without an audience whoever chose to disturb him.

  “Edward, the gambler, sir.”

  Vetis sighed.

  The sod was trying his patience. The man owed Vetis. That was what happened when you bargained with a Demon...and lost.

  “Get a cell ready.” He would draw the energy generated by the man’s fear and be done with him.

  “Yes, my Lord.” Figgins clicked his heels together. “Shall I show them in?”

  “Them?”

  “Ah, yes. He has...a lady with him.”

  Stupid sod. He thought to trade another for his debt. How many freaking times had these ignorant humans thought they could get away with cheating a demon? Would they never learn?

  “Show them in.”

  “Very good sir.”

  Figgins opened the grand doors to his chamber with a flourish. A sudden rush of cool air swept through the room and the velvet curtains swayed as if heralding a sea change.

  Towing a reluctant woman along in his wake, the fool gambler strode in as if he owned the castle. His hard-soled shoes clicked along the stone floor, the harder tap of her stilettos a counter beat to the gambler’s stride.

  Still slouched on his throne chair, Vetis observed them.

  Edward the gambler fairly vibrated with energy, radiating an excitement strangely at odds with his predicament. He saw no fear in the man. His thoughts were full of only anticipation.

  Yawn.

  So Vetis turned his gaze to the woman. She’d been dressed up like a hooker on the walk. Black stiletto heels, a black micro-mini so short he was sure if she turned around, he’d be able to see the globes of her ass p
eeking out the bottom, her wares on display. The black halter top was cut down to her belly button, in a wide V, displaying a decent set of breasts. Large, round, real, her nipples poked the black material but there was no doubt it was not from arousal.

  Her face was like stone. Sharp caramel eyebrows over a long blade of a nose and a cupid’s bow mouth the angels would have wept for, except for the fact that she was not smiling. Her angelic blond hair tumbled down her back.

  But what drew him was her eyes.

  Not one single emotion betrayed her. Her gaze was flat, blue, empty. When he probed her mind, he saw...nothing.

  How curious. As the Demon of Corruption, his goal in life was to make people do things against their nature. But first he needed to know their nature. Her mind was blank. Too blank.

  “You think to bring me a prostitute to pay off your debt?”

  By only a flicker of her eyelid did she reveal her distress. Not a prostitute then.

  “No, no.” The gambler laughed and a hint of nervousness finally edged into his mind. He pinched the woman, hard, on her arm. “This is my wife. Smile, dear.”

  The woman’s x-rated mouth remained still.

  “Your wife?” Vetis said flatly. He pressed his mouth into a straight line. It was nearly impossible to corrupt one already so depraved as to offer his wife to a Demon. Now if the gambler had protested, it would have been fun to demand her as payment. But this, this was annoying.

  This...insect dared to try to dupe him?

  “And why did you bring her with you?” Vetis slumped even further in the chair, shifting his weight to put his chin on his fist. Come, you ass. Show me your true colors so I can decide what your punishment shall be. And how I can reap the energy from your psyche.

  “I would offer her to you.”

  “I see.” Vetis blinked slowly. The woman hadn’t made any movement. None. She was preternaturally still. And her mind continued to stay amazingly blank. He had no idea if the man’s offer repulsed her or aroused her. Absolutely none.

  What an interesting turn of events.

  “Come closer, sweet.” He crooked a single finger at her, watching her dead eyes. The burning wood crackled, sparks flaring in the still silent cavern of a room as the earthy aroma of peat wafted lazily through the air.

  The woman didn’t move.

  “Is she drugged?” Vetis asked with pretended idleness. He couldn’t say why the thought enraged him, but Vetis suddenly wished the man would answer yes, just so he could hurt him.

  Edward shifted, his body turned toward the fire as if mesmerized. “No, my Lord.” He pushed his bride toward Vetis without so much as a flinch. “Go to him.”

  She shuffled toward him in the stilettos, her gait uneven, as if she were unaccustomed to walking in the sharp heels. The sacrificial woman hesitated at the two-tiered dais that held his chair.

  “Come, come, up the steps.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. Still no emotion. Still no feeling. And apparently she was mute. After another moment of hesitation she placed one foot daintily in front of the other until she stood directly in front of him.

  Up close he could see the makeup slathered over her face. Rouge painted her cheeks, deathly pale beneath the false front. Her mouth, the pouty, puffy lips glossed shiny and slick, trembled.

  Finally emotion. Energy he could feed off of. Fear? Desire?

  Vetis tested the air, sniffing delicately to sense her mood. Besides an overabundance of some blowsy floral perfume, nothing else scented the air.

  “Of course, I can’t make a decision until I sample the merchandise.” He rubbed his fingers against his thumb, then wiggled his digits, like a safecracker getting ready to breach a vault. Vetis slid his palm inside the slinky halter top and brushed a thumb against her nipple.

  The woman’s skin was frigid.

  As cold as her ice blue eyes.

  Even in the heat of his room, she was nearly frozen. She didn’t react. Not one flicker of emotion crossed her face. With the exception of that slight tremble in her lips and the barest flinch of an eyelid earlier, she showed no reaction. She remained perfectly still while he brushed his thumb against the hard point.

  He slid his other hand between her knees and with a gentle press, indicated she spread her legs. The skin of her inner thigh was soft as the down feathers that stuffed the comforter on his bed. Slowly, he slid his fingers toward her mound.

  No underwear blocked his path. Wiry curls protected her feminine slit. He rubbed his fingers over her. Nothing. No juice wet his hand. The little nub of her clitoris was cold and dry against his fingertips.

  He couldn’t take his gaze away from hers.

  She was like a giant void. He had to wonder, as she stood without protest against his intimate invasion. What would it take to corrupt her?

  Tucked into leather breeches, his cock lay flaccid against his stomach. He waited for some sort of response. If nothing else she’d be good for a few blow jobs. He imagined his cock ramming in and out of her mouth, fucking her throat, until he came jetting down into her body.

  And still his body remained limp, uninterested.

  Gods, this boredom was killing him.

  The sensible, the logical move would be to send the woman home and feed off the sick energy pouring from the gambler. But, her absolute lack of emotion was like a siren, tempting him toward an uncertain path and payout. He wanted to corrupt her, wanted to harness her energy.

  Prince Gaap would clearly advocate for the former.

  But Vetis needed something. Needed a challenge.

  The woman stood straight and still while he tested her indifference. With one hand he cupped her breast while he trailed the other back down her thigh.

  He probed her mind again. And finally, he saw.