Demon Rising

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

“I don’t even know you anymore,” I exclaim, shoving his hand off of me. Being within a ten mile radius with him is enough to make me nauseous, but sitting on his lap while he caresses my bare waist is enough to make me throw up. Which I actually might if he doesn’t let me go.

“Hector, I’m not joking, being this close to you is actually making me nauseous. Please let go.”

His laugh tickles the nape of my neck, and I can feel the nausea growing in my stomach and bile rising in my throat.

He grips my hair at the base of my scalp with one hand, tugging firmly to fully expose my neck to him. He uses the opportunity to start planting kisses all over the exposed side of my neck. At first they’re gentle, like a butterfly flapping its wings against my skin, but then they become more aggressive. Firm. Within a few minutes he’s starting to nip at my skin, and I shove at his chest when he lands a sharp bite. The effort does nothing to quell him, and instead he responds by licking over the tender area, soothing the sting.

“Get the f**k off of me, Hector!” I exclaim, thrashing in his hold as the nausea reaches unbearable heights. I freeze when I gag, and visibly swallow down what comes up.

“Jesus, Antheia!” he exclaims, releasing his hold on me. I leap off of him and sprint to the bathroom, my movements eerily accurate for how disoriented I feel. I make it to the toilet just in time to heave the meager contents of my stomach into the bowl.

I move away from the hand that lands on my lower back, rubbing soothing circles.

“Get the f**k away from me,” I rasp out, coughing and spitting into the toilet before flushing.

He lets out a sigh, retrieving a toothbrush and toothpaste.

“Let’s get you in the shower,” he murmurs as I stand, wash my hands, and brush my teeth.

A shower honestly sounds heavenly and exactly the sort of space and relief I need, but my semi-positive thoughts stop as he tugs at my shirt, causing me to jerk away from him.

“What the f**k are you doing?” I demand, spinning around to face him head-on.

“My demon and I have a primal need to take care of you. That include stripping you, bathing you, drying you, brushing your hair, and dressing you.”

I gape at him. “No! f**k no! Absolutely not. I’m not showering with you.”

His eyes bleed to black, and I tense as I literally feel the temperature fall a few degrees.

How powerful is this man?

“It wasn’t a question. If I must chain you to my side and on every surface near me until I mark you, I will do so without reserve. You’ll be clever to take note of that.”

The demon’s tone is so cold and emotionless that I’m frozen in place, unable to respond. It blinks, and I’m faced with Hectors forest green eyes. He shrugs. “What he said.”

With that he steps towards me. I match his step with a backwards one, but he advances until I’m backed against the wall. With that he busies himself with removing my shirt. When I refuse to raise my arms he simply shrugs before casually tearing the shirt in half, leaving me in my bra and his boxers. He wastes no time ripping both of those items off before slinging me over his shoulder, and carrying me to the spacious shower where he sets me down in the corner. I glance around, confused at the lack of the showerhead but visible fancy water dial on the wall. It’s a digital water dial. He reaches out and taps on the touch screen several times, and I startle as the ceiling above the shower opens up to reveal a massive built-in showerhead that begins pouring hot water onto the entire shower. Hector taps three more times, and the water pressure increases.

He picks up a bottle of women’s shampoo from a shelf built into the marble wall, and turns his gaze towards me.

“Come here, Antheia.”

I shake my head, hugging my arms tighter around my chest. He rolls his eyes.

“Am I going to have to chain you to the ceiling to keep you still?” He snaps, patience running out. I glance up, and when I see no chains, scowl at him.

“f**k you!” I fire back. He turns back to the screen, tapping it several times, and I gasp as cuffs fall from the ceiling.

A terrifying realization dawns on me.

Hector’s been expecting me.

He’s been waiting for me, and he prepared for everything. He has women’s products ready for my use. Threats ready for my fighting spirit. Chains ready for my disobedience. I stare at the chains, noting that they have furry leather cuffs. He doesn’t want me uncomfortable, he simply wants me compliant.

I shake my head as he steps towards me.

“No, Hector, please don’t…” I whimper, unable to go anywhere since I’m already pressed against the wall.

“Don’t make such a big deal, Antheia. I’m taking care of you.”

He reaches out and grabs my wrists, dragging me to the chains. He then clasps one over one wrist, and the second one over my other, leaving me writhing and trying to kick my legs out at him.

To my surprise, he steps out of the shower, opening a cupboard and retrieving two more chains. One end has padded leather cuffs, and the other has a locked clip he can attach to any ring anchor. I glance at the ground nervously, my blood running cold as I see two closed-circle hooks drilled into the ground, which would spread my legs if I’m chained to them. Hector didn’t disregard any possibilities in my potential disobedience.

It takes him under a minute to chain down both of my legs, leaving me completely helpless and exposed to his gaze. He eyes my breasts with pure hunger in his eyes, before looking over the rest of my stretched out body with a mixture of lust and a primal possessive stare.

When his gaze lands on my shaved p***y, he frowns.

“Have you been hooking up with someone?” he questions, meeting my gaze with his dark one. I shake my head frantically.

“No. I just don’t like the feeling of hair so I shave down there,” I hurriedly explain, before inwardly scowling. The fact that I’m scrambling to justify something I do for my comfort is ridiculous.

I attempt to jerk backwards against the chains when Hector suddenly lowers himself to his knees, now eye-level with my p***y.

“Stop!” I shriek as he spreads my folds, exploring my most private area with his fingers.

“Very smooth for shaving. Most girls still have small patches of hair left over.”

I watch in silent horror as brings his face an inch away from me, inhaling deeply.

“You smell like vanilla and honey,” he murmurs, looking up to make contact with me just as his fingers brush over my clit, nearly making me jump out of my skin.

“Hector, please stop,” I beg, my voice wobbly as tears well in my eyes.

Not this. Anything but this.

His fingers start rubbing gentle circles on my c******s, nearly causing me to jump out of my skin.

“Please, spank me. Do anything, just not this,” I say, a sob escaping the confines of my throat.

He raises his eyebrows. “You’d rather me hurt you than give you an orgasm?” He questions.

I nod without hesitation.

He simply hums, looking lost in thought.

“Maybe overstimulation will be the best punishment for you, then,” he muses. “Of course, I’m sure torture would work as well, but I couldn’t do that to you. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t. You’re my mate, meaning causing you any true and genuine harm would also hurt me.”

His fingers still on my clit, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“How long would it take you to pass out, though? The gods paired you with me, so you must be strong. I’m sure you’d last a couple hours,” he continues, thinking out loud.

“Hector, please don’t—”

“I might get worn out eventually, but of course, battery operated devices could replace me. It wouldn’t be the same, but after a couple orgasms you’ll be too sensitive to differentiate,” he says, completely disregarding my words.

His eyes flick to my mound, and he uses both thumbs to spread my folds, before dipping a single finger inside me.

“I touched you for thirty seconds and you’re soaking. Either the bond is working better than I could’ve dreamed, or you are incredibly sensitive,” he says, before darting out his tongue and sliding it against my entrance. He lets out a deep, primal groan.

“You taste even better than you smell,” he growls against me.

“Hector, I’m saying no! Stop!”

A smile spreads across his face. “You know, it’s said that every time a male mate makes his female come, the bond intensifies. Demons normally mark each other immediately and after that it doesn’t make a difference, so I don’t know for sure. But I can’t wait to give it a try.”

With those words he falls upon me like a starved man. Licking, sucking, even lightly nipping. Forcing bout after bout of unwanted pleasure onto my body, ignoring my pleas for him to stop until they turn into moans.

I feel a warmth deep inside of me, building as the pleasure starts to make me feel fuzzy.

“Wait for my permission to come,” Hector rumbles against my flesh before continuing. Is that what this pleasure is? Am I going to orgasm?

I wouldn’t know. m**********n has never appealed to me, and I’ve never had a strong enough urge for s*x to give up my virginity to someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Ah,” I moan out as he flicks his tongue against my clit, sliding two fingers inside of me.

“So f*****g responsive,” he says, voice muffled.

“Ohh my God,” I groan out, throwing my head back as pleasure overwhelms my senses.

“Hold it,” he commands. I let out a cry.

“Please!”

“Hold it.”

“Ahhh… please!” I sob as my legs begin to shake. I jerk against my restraints, but they have no give.

“Come,” he commands, latching his mouth over my clit. I let out a scream that shakes the entire shower, feeling my insides clench around his fingers. He runs his tongue over my entrance a few times, placing a kiss on my clit that has me jerking against my restraints from sensitivity.

“That sensitive already?” he muses, flicking my clit with the pad of his thumb. I jerk again, still trying to catch my breath.

“Please nooo,” I nearly slur in my exhaustion.

“That tired, too,” he concludes. His eyes meet mine.

“You’re going to come for me again.”

I shake my head, trembling at the idea.

“Oh yes, pretty girl. You’re going to come for me again as a punishment for trying to kill me.”

“I had to,” I gasp out. He gives me an evil smile.

“I know.”

With those words, he’s on me again. I don’t know if the mate bond strengthened or if I really am that sensitive, or if it’s a mixture of both, but his touch feels like a turbo version of before.

It’s only two minutes before he’s commanding me to come again, my body instantly obeying as an earth-shattering climax takes over me.

“Beautiful,” he breathes out. “You’re perfect.”

He gets back on his feet, grabs the shampoo bottle, and goes about his business as though nothing wrong just happened. His fingers thread through my hair with shampoo, and sparks stronger than they were before erupts everywhere he touches. He inhales sharply, letting a rumble out into my ears.