Read Online The Hated (Sleeping With Monsters Book 3) by Cassie Alexander - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cassie Alexander
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began to shake his head. “No real woman tastes of sweets. Men only say they do to please them.”
“But she does,” I protested.
Zaan smiled wickedly. “Shall I see?” He sat down on the far end of the couch. “Come here, slavegirl.”
Beza looked from me to him and I didn’t know what to say.
“Your King commands it,” Zaan said, his eyes looking at me. At that, Beza did as she was told, crawling nearer, and Zaan pulled her onto his lap.
I realized his skin was against her back, and he wrapped her with one arm. Since I had released him from the stone, I had only felt one small part of him, no more. I was worried for her, but as he brought his other hand up to brush the fabric covering her breast, I also found myself becoming jealous.
He pushed Beza’s hair out of his way so that he could press his face into her neck. One hand kept stroking her breast, as the other met her thigh. “Are you scared, my darling?”
Beza shook her head, “No, my King.”
Zaan glanced up at me to make sure that I was listening. Then he murmured something just for her and rocked back, pulling her with him, kissing her neck.
I almost said something then, worried that he would bite her – just as I felt my magic stir inside at watching them.
She writhed against him, falling back into him like I had seen her fall back into Joshan a hundred times before, raising her arms up so that she could reach for his face and hair. She ground her body against his, as he kissed and licked and nuzzled her, his hand massaging the weight of her breast, his hand on her thigh ever-rising.
“You are warm, for a demon-puppet,” he said, licking a stripe up her neck to whisper in her ear. His hand on her legs reached her hip and then slid over to dive between her thighs, and she moaned as I could only imagine him pushing a finger inside. Her eyes closed and I watched his arm move as he stirred himself into her, feeling her slick heat. And when he pulled his hand out he brought his fingers to his lips and tasted her with a cruel smile.
“Honey indeed.”
He stood, pushing her roughly aside, walking across the room to me. I held my ground. I could smell her scent on him – I’d been intoxicated by it before.
“Be honest -- does the same drip from between your legs? Or do you own the wetness of a real woman?” He stood an arm’s length away and then reached over to smear her juices on my cheek. I stood there, furious at him. If Beza wasn’t real, then what else about my life was a lie? What, if anything, was truth?
Zaan pressed on. “Did you slick honey on my cock? Are you made of candy, girl?”
I shook my head, staring hate at him. “No.”
He nodded his head with a tilt. “Because no woman alive tastes like that.” He cast a glance back to Beza who was innocently looking from him to me. “Shall I wrench her arm off to prove to you she’s not real?”
“No!” I ran across the room and grabbed Beza’s wrist and hauled her to me. Even if she wasn’t real – she was still my servant. “You are my King. If there is to be – fucking – then it should be with me.”
Zaan crossed the distance between us and I fought not to shrink back. “Trust that there will be,” he said, burning me with his gaze, his eyes running over me like hands. “But not tonight. Leave me. Have the male bring me beer if the world still has it.”
He took a step back and I hauled Beza out of the room behind me.
I pulled Beza all the way back to my own sleeping chamber. I had never needed doors before, but now I wished I had them, so I could close them and bar the path. I did not want the Zaibann startling me in the middle of the night.
I sat on the edge of my bed, hands in impotent fists. “He is awful,” I told Beza. Staring into her eyes now, though, I knew what Zaan had said was true. She was kind and loyal, but not any more human than the zoomers that smoothed the rugs at night.
“He is your King, my Queen,” Beza said
“But she does,” I protested.
Zaan smiled wickedly. “Shall I see?” He sat down on the far end of the couch. “Come here, slavegirl.”
Beza looked from me to him and I didn’t know what to say.
“Your King commands it,” Zaan said, his eyes looking at me. At that, Beza did as she was told, crawling nearer, and Zaan pulled her onto his lap.
I realized his skin was against her back, and he wrapped her with one arm. Since I had released him from the stone, I had only felt one small part of him, no more. I was worried for her, but as he brought his other hand up to brush the fabric covering her breast, I also found myself becoming jealous.
He pushed Beza’s hair out of his way so that he could press his face into her neck. One hand kept stroking her breast, as the other met her thigh. “Are you scared, my darling?”
Beza shook her head, “No, my King.”
Zaan glanced up at me to make sure that I was listening. Then he murmured something just for her and rocked back, pulling her with him, kissing her neck.
I almost said something then, worried that he would bite her – just as I felt my magic stir inside at watching them.
She writhed against him, falling back into him like I had seen her fall back into Joshan a hundred times before, raising her arms up so that she could reach for his face and hair. She ground her body against his, as he kissed and licked and nuzzled her, his hand massaging the weight of her breast, his hand on her thigh ever-rising.
“You are warm, for a demon-puppet,” he said, licking a stripe up her neck to whisper in her ear. His hand on her legs reached her hip and then slid over to dive between her thighs, and she moaned as I could only imagine him pushing a finger inside. Her eyes closed and I watched his arm move as he stirred himself into her, feeling her slick heat. And when he pulled his hand out he brought his fingers to his lips and tasted her with a cruel smile.
“Honey indeed.”
He stood, pushing her roughly aside, walking across the room to me. I held my ground. I could smell her scent on him – I’d been intoxicated by it before.
“Be honest -- does the same drip from between your legs? Or do you own the wetness of a real woman?” He stood an arm’s length away and then reached over to smear her juices on my cheek. I stood there, furious at him. If Beza wasn’t real, then what else about my life was a lie? What, if anything, was truth?
Zaan pressed on. “Did you slick honey on my cock? Are you made of candy, girl?”
I shook my head, staring hate at him. “No.”
He nodded his head with a tilt. “Because no woman alive tastes like that.” He cast a glance back to Beza who was innocently looking from him to me. “Shall I wrench her arm off to prove to you she’s not real?”
“No!” I ran across the room and grabbed Beza’s wrist and hauled her to me. Even if she wasn’t real – she was still my servant. “You are my King. If there is to be – fucking – then it should be with me.”
Zaan crossed the distance between us and I fought not to shrink back. “Trust that there will be,” he said, burning me with his gaze, his eyes running over me like hands. “But not tonight. Leave me. Have the male bring me beer if the world still has it.”
He took a step back and I hauled Beza out of the room behind me.
I pulled Beza all the way back to my own sleeping chamber. I had never needed doors before, but now I wished I had them, so I could close them and bar the path. I did not want the Zaibann startling me in the middle of the night.
I sat on the edge of my bed, hands in impotent fists. “He is awful,” I told Beza. Staring into her eyes now, though, I knew what Zaan had said was true. She was kind and loyal, but not any more human than the zoomers that smoothed the rugs at night.
“He is your King, my Queen,” Beza said
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