Discarded by Heaven's Prince, Courted by the Demon Emperor novel · Chapter 2 of 24
Chapter 2: On His Knees in the Rain
The thunder-fire burns her blood; in her peak cave she tells the Demon Emperor to kneel and takes his mouth between her legs.
Rain began to fall as he carried her through the door of her cave.
It was her own rain, called up without thinking, and it drummed on the stone roof.
Mo Jinye set her on her feet beside the jade bed and kept both hands on her waist.
She was shaking from the fever, and her skin was so hot that steam rose off her wet sleeves.
"Tell me where it hurts," he said.
"Everywhere."
"Then tell me where you want it to stop first."
Qinghe looked at him in the lamplight.
Three hundred years of cold mountain mornings, and no one had stood this close to her.
His eyes were amber and steady, and his collar was open, and she could see his pulse in his throat.
"Kiss me," she said.
He did not move.
"I'd like to hear what you want before I take it," he said. "Say all of it."
That startled her into a laugh.
Then the fever twisted in her belly, and the laugh turned into a breath she could not steady.
"I want your mouth on me," she said. "Everywhere. I want you to start with my mouth, and I don't want you to be gentle about it."
He kissed her.
It was slow for one heartbeat and then it was not.
He took her face in both hands, tilted it, and opened her mouth with his, and she tasted rain and smoke and something sweet.
She grabbed his collar and pulled him down.
He made a sound in his chest, low and rough, and walked her backward until her calves hit the edge of the bed.
"More," she said into his mouth.
He bit her lower lip, gently, then harder, and the thunder-fire in her blood flared and reached for him.
Little arcs of violet light crawled across his shoulders.
He shuddered all over and did not pull away.
"That hurt," she said.
"It's wonderful," he said, breathless. "Do it again."
She did.
She dragged her hands up under his robe and across his chest, hot skin over hard muscle, and the lightning licked along his ribs.
He groaned into her mouth.
Then she shoved the black robe off his shoulders, and it slid to the floor.
She stopped.
She had expected to want him, but she had not expected her whole body to clench at the sight.
He was long and broad and scarred in a few places, and under the left collarbone, over his heart, lay a thin pale seam of old scar.
She would ask about it later.
Right now there was only the heat under her ribs, and his hands on her sash.
His fingers found her sash.
"Untie it," she said, "or I'll burn it off."
He untied her sash, slowly, as if every knot was a gift.
The burnt robe fell open, and then her inner robe, and then she stood before him in nothing but the lamplight.
Jinye looked at her.
He looked at her for so long that she felt it on her skin.
"You're beautiful," he said, hoarse. "You're so beautiful that I forget the words."
She was broad in the hips and full in the breast, soft in the belly, and she had never been ashamed of it, not even on the stairs.
But nobody had ever looked at her like this.
"Then use your mouth for something else," she said.
"Gladly."
"On your knees."
His breath caught.
She watched it hit him, the little jolt of heat across his face, and she liked it so much that her thighs tightened.
The Demon Emperor of the Abyss knelt on the stone floor of her cave without a word.
He looked up at her from there, his hands loose on his thighs.
"Like this?" he asked.
"Like that."
She sat on the edge of the jade bed and spread her knees.
The cold of the stone was a mercy under her ass.
He settled between her thighs and put his hands on the insides of her knees, and then he waited.
"Are you waiting for permission?"
"I want to be told," he said.
"Then touch me."
He put his mouth on the inside of her thigh and kissed his way up.
Slowly, so slowly that she could have screamed.
His breath was hot against her wet skin, and she tangled both hands in his hair and pulled his head where she wanted it.
"Here," she said. "Now."
He licked her.
One long slow stroke from her entrance up to her clit, flat of the tongue, and her whole body jerked.
"Oh," she said. "Oh, fuck."
"Do it again."
He did it again, and again, and each time the lightning in her blood sang higher.
He found her clit with the tip of his tongue and circled it, firm and patient, and every circle drew the fever out of her belly and into her thighs.
She pulled his hair and he moaned against her.
The sound went through her pussy.
"You like that," she said.
"I like it when you hold me," he said, muffled. "Hold me harder."
She did.
She dug her fingers into his scalp and pushed her hips up to his mouth, and he gave her what she asked for with a hunger that made her dizzy.
He sucked her clit between his lips, gently at first, then with a pull that made her cry out.
His hands slid up to her hips and held her open.
"Don't stop," she said. "Don't you dare stop."
"I won't."
"Put your finger in me."
He slid one thick finger inside her and she clenched around it, tight and wet and shaking.
He curled it forward and found the place that made her see white.
"There. Right there. Fuck, Jinye."
He said her name against her clit like a prayer.
Qinghe, he said, Qinghe, and the shape of it buzzed into her flesh.
She came with her back arched and her head thrown back, and the rain outside rose to a roar.
Lightning leapt from her fingertips into the stone ceiling and cracked it.
He did not stop.
He eased his tongue through the shaking aftermath and added a second finger, slow, and drew a second wave out of her before the first had finished.
"Jinye," she gasped. "Jinye, stop. Stop. I can't."
He stopped at once and lifted his face.
His chin was wet.
His lips were red and his eyes were wild and tender, and he was waiting for her to say what came next.
"I said I couldn't," she said, breathing hard. "I didn't say I didn't want it."
A slow smile crossed his mouth.
"Then tell me how many more you want."
"That's up to me."
"It is," he said. "Everything is, tonight."
"Then once more. Slowly. I want to watch you do it."
She propped herself on her elbows and he took her thighs over his shoulders.
He licked her slow and deep, with his amber eyes open and fixed on her face.
Three fingers went into her this time, stretching her, and his thumb found her clit and rubbed it in small tight circles.
"Look at you," he said against her. "Look how wet you are for me. You taste like rain."
"Keep talking."
"You're perfect. You're so tight around my fingers. Come on my tongue, Qinghe, let me feel it."
She came again, long and shuddering, her thighs locked around his head, and she said his name out loud until her voice cracked.
He held her through all of it, his mouth never leaving her.
The fever had dropped a little under her skin, a third perhaps, and she felt almost clear.
She looked down.
He was still on his knees, and the front of his trousers was tented hard enough that the cloth strained.
His cock was thick and hot, and it twitched when she looked at it.
"You're hard," she said.
"Since the stairs. Since three hundred years ago."
"You haven't asked for anything."
"I haven't earned it."
Qinghe put her foot on his chest.
She pressed her bare sole over the pale seam of his scar and pushed him gently back onto his heels.
He went, eyes burning, and let her.
She slid her foot slowly down his stomach to the waist of his trousers and pressed lightly on the bulge.
He groaned and his head dropped forward.
"Look at me," she said.
He looked up.
"Tomorrow night I'll decide what you get," she said. "Tonight you kneel there, and you watch me sleep."
"Yes," he said, rough. "As you say."
Her heart was pounding as she lay back on the jade bed and drew the blanket over her.
She turned on her side so that she could see him.
He had not moved.
He knelt on the floor beside the bed in the lamplight, shoulders heaving, the Demon Emperor of the Abyss with her taste on his mouth.
Neither of them said it, but it was the first time in three hundred years that she had not been alone.
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