Darkyn's Mate

"I want your pain to be of a physical kind that I cause when we fuck like demons," he replied. "I do not wish you to feel pain otherwise."

"Are you trying to be nice?"

"I do not try at anything I do," he said with some irritation. "I conquer."

"So I'm a conquest."

"Without a doubt, love," he said without hesitation. "You are also my mate. I see weakness and vulnerability as I do everyone. But I see more."

"What?" she asked.

"I see beauty."

She gazed at him, puzzled. When he said no more, she smiled slightly. "What does that mean?"

"I see a conquest that gives me pleasure to think of as mine."

Deidre laughed. The demon lord had just admitted to being happy, in his own way. Her hope had been crushed in every other way - except that it stirred once more at the idea there was more to him than she knew. Though she doubted he was capable of emotions like she was, he was capable of more than he claimed, too.

"I'll never tire of conquering you, either," he said and nuzzled her neck. His hand circled her neck to release the clasp of her dress.

Her desire stirred, aided by emotion and hunger for him. Deidre pulled his head to hers and kissed him long and hard. Within seconds, their petting grew frantic, and she shimmied out of her dress before pushing off his shirt.

She groaned at the sensations he caused, soon drowning in the scent of blood and need to feel him inside her.