Free Azagoth: A Demonica Novella (1001 Dark Nights) by Larissa Ione Page A

and, he noted, the sapphire silk baby-doll nightie was missing from the hanger.
    Man, he wished he hadn’t missed her putting that on. He could imagine her hard body loosely covered in luxurious material meant to caress her smooth skin, and when he added himself to the picture, the nightie became a shredded pile on the floor.
    Mouth watering, but not for food, he made a quick detour to the kitchen to see if she’d eaten, and he was pleased to see that she’d made a huge dent in the Italian food Zhubaal had scored from one of Azagoth’s favorite restaurants. Azagoth could cook, but one of his few pleasures was eating the best foods in the world, and Zhubaal had a knack for knowing exactly what Azagoth was in the mood for.
    Too bad his mood for Italian had passed, because the three pasta dishes, steamed mussels, and tomato bisque looked amazing. What was left of it, anyway. Apparently, his angel had a hearty appetite.
    The thought made him practically purr inside. He loved a female who could eat.
    Returning to the bedroom, he eyed his erotic furniture, wondering if she’d show as much enthusiasm for sex.
    How could she? She doesn’t want to be here.
    He shook off the thought. He’d make her want to be there. Sure, he didn’t have a plan, but he had the power to bring anything she wanted into his realm. He could keep her content. Happy, even.
    Keep telling yourself that, jackass.
    With a growl of frustration, he stripped naked and climbed between the crisp sheets. She was lying as close to the edge of the mattress as possible, her back to him and the covers tucked under her chin. He closed the gap between them, easing himself close to her, but just short of touching. He didn’t trust himself. If he touched her, he’d need to keep touching, and he wanted to give her time to adjust.
    How gentlemanly of you. Yeah, well, his soul might be warped into something unrecognizable and his emotions all but dead, but his memories were fully intact and untainted by Sheoul’s evil influence. He remembered his mother and how she’d been so timid and afraid of new experiences. It had hurt him to see, especially not knowing what had made her that way.
    Those memories were what made him handle his nervous bedmates differently than he handled the others. While he might not actually feel sympathy for faint-hearted females, he knew he used to, before he came to Sheoul-gra. And despite the rumors, he had never taken a female by force or coercion.
    He certainly wouldn’t start with his mate.
    “Lilliana?” he murmured. “I know you aren’t asleep.”
    “What gave me away? The fact that my eyes are open?”
    Apparently, the theme tonight was ornery. He could play that. “You have a sharp tongue, female.” He caught a lock of hair in his fingers, and so much for not touching her. “May I suggest that you put it to better use?”
    “May I suggest that you go to hell?”
    “That insult has no bite, given that we’re already here.” Not technically, of course, since Azagoth’s realm sat on a special plane between the human realm and the demon one, but the barrier between Sheoul and Sheoul-gra was extremely thin, allowing far too much leakage between them.
    She sighed. “What do you want?”
    Bracing himself on one elbow, he leaned in, inhaling the fresh rosemary mint of her shampoo. His cock stirred, and whaddya know, that scent was apparently an aphrodisiac.
    “Tell me,” he breathed into her ear. “Tell me why you’re here.”
    “You really want to know?”
    He inhaled again, this time catching the faint citrus spice of her skin along with the shampoo. She was a living, breathing dessert he couldn’t wait to taste.
    “I’m not in the habit of asking questions I don’t want the answers to,” he said, letting his lips brush the skin of her cheek.
    She inhaled sharply, and the unmistakable aroma of arousal rose up all around her. His body responded with a primal surge of hunger, and his rapidly swelling cock went all