Dark Enchantment (Elvis Presley Story)

Chapter 29

Elvis took a deep breath, then strolled after her. She was standing by the entry door tapping her foot and looking furious. He came to a halt, folding his arms across his chest. "Door locked?" She really shouldn't be so suprised. He was a goddamned demon. She'd leave when he let her leave.

"Unlock it, Elvis."

"No."

Her mouth dropped open. "Excuse me?"

"I said no. Let's have some food." At the look of pure indignation on her face, his hunger suddenly shifted south. "Then i was thinking of taking you to bed."

Her jaw dropped farther. Her face flamed. "Think about it all you like."

He lifted a brow. "Is that by any chance a challenge?"

"I'm in no mood after being bartered away to a blood-sucking-"

The anger was back, clouding his vision. "I would never-"

"Save it, once a demon-"

Something in his face must have shown. He'd just resolved as much himself, but for some reason hearing that fatalistic sentiment on her tongue enraged him to snapping point.

She backed away. but he was faster. He grabbed her upper arms and backed her against the door. She gasped. "You were saying, baby?"

"Elvis..."

"Since you think so highly of my personal honor, I feel it my duty to warn you-"

"You're hurting me."

"I'm a demon. Remember. Hurting is what I do."

"No. You bring pleasure. You're here to fulfill my desires, you said so yourself."

She didn't believe it. He could tell. She was just backpedaling because he was frightening her. So what? He was here to hurt her. But not in the way she believed. She brought the real hurt on herself, with her dark desire for vengeance.

But she did have a point. Pleasure was so much more satisfying. "So did I," he murmured. Sex and anger was such a volatile, exciting mix.

With steely restraint he lowered his face to hers, and brushed his mouth over her lips. They were warm and moist and trembled slightly when the tip of his tongue touched them. He could taste her desire for him. And a little fear. The tastes mingled, permeating the air around them, filling his senses, quickening his body.

Much better.

He loved having this power over her. This heady, intense power that had nothing to do with being a demon and everything to do with being a man.

Couldn't she feel it? couldn't she understand that she belonged to him?

He trailed his lips to her ear. "You want me," he whispered, and she trembled harder. "You want me all over you. You want me inside you," he whispered, drugging her with his words, with his will.

She made a tiny noise of despair. Why? because his demon whisper compelled her to feel an urgent physical need for him? Or because she had shielded herself from his Enchantment, but the strong need for him was still there, burning through her body like a brand.

That was all her. She wanted him. She couldn't deny that.

Her fingers reached for him, touched his torso. Her breaths were fast, shallow, uneven.

His own body was on fire. He told himself he didn't care if he didn't fit into her world. What did it matter that when she found out what he really was she'd most likely want to wipe the mortal realm of all traces of him?

Elvis moved his grip down to her wrists and held her still. "You disobeyed me this morning," he said, low and rough.

She swallowed. Uncertainty hovered in her eyes, her fear growing. "You were in danger," She said. Her voice wavered. "Marcolf-"

He tightened his grip. "Fuck Marcolf. There was a reason I left you behind."

"I'm not your slave, Elvis. I only said that to stop them back there."

"You could have been killed."

"But I wasnt."

Stubborn girl. "You could of ended up as a demon's slave or worse," he reminded her. A fate far worse than his bed, he reminded himself.

"Instead I saved your life."

Did she deliberately wish to defy him?

"Which," he gritted his teeth, "wouldn't have needed saving if you hadn't stuck your nose where it didn't belong!"

She tried to pull away. A useless attempt. "Ungrateful bastard!"

"Why?" He demanded.

She pulled at her wrists again, avoiding his firey gaze. "Really good question."

He let one of her hands go and wrapped his fingers around her jaw, forcing her to look at him. "Tell me, Sophia. Why? Why did you disobey me? Why did you follow me? Hell, why did you save my life?" He really didn't want to know. It must be self destructive compulsion that made him ask. Any answer she gave would only inflame his fury even more.

Her eyes melted to pools of stubborn, defiant, liquid fire. "We have a bargain. I don't want you weaseling out of it by dying on me."

Goosebumps raced up his flesh and he stared at her, long and hard. He suddenly felt like he was on a tightrope, losing balance. And under him was a bottomless pit.

Was her concern really for his life?

Or was it only for their bargain?

"It's the Demon stone. Isn't it?" He murmured, his voice suddenly soft. "You're worried about losing it."

For a second she didn't move. Then her chin jerked up. As her eyes filled with tears. "Of course," She said. "What else could it possibly be?"

He swallowed down the bitter taste of some totally alien emotion. One he couldn't identify.

Relief, self-righteousness? Disappointment?

No, surely not. Demons didn't have such patently human emotions. Lust and anger. That was all he could feel. All he was supposed to feel.

So why did his heart feel empty and hollow?

And why did he have the sinking feeling that the hollowness was just the beginning of something far, far worse?

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! And thanks for reading! xoxo