Bound By Desire (The Acadian Curse) (12 page)

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.

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 peeking 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.