Sold to the Night Lord - Chapter 85: Chapter 85

Cassian
Kneeling before me, her face inches from my erection, sends waves of pleasure down my spine. I’ve always known there’s a sadistic side to me, and now it’s fighting to rise to the surface. I want her lips wrapped around me, her tears streaking her cheeks as she struggles to take me fully into her mouth. I want to lick those tears away.
She isn’t afraid of me—those fearful glances vanished long ago, replaced by ones blazing with fire. I want her to fear me. I want her to retreat in this game, to return to where we began. Instead, she meets my gaze defiantly and, with unsteady fingers, undoes my pants.
My cock stands hard and ready before her lips, throbbing with need. Elara studies it with curiosity before daring to wrap her hand around me, her thumb swiping over the wetness at my tip.
A curse slips from me at the softness of her touch.
“Don’t you dare stop now,” I growl.
“Are you going to beg?” she murmurs, her lips hovering near my cock. “I think I’d like to hear that, Mr. Draven.”
“Don’t play with the devil, Elara. You’ll be the one begging me to stop.”
Without breaking eye contact, she lowers herself slowly, her soft lips brushing the head of my cock. At first, it’s light as a butterfly’s wing, but something in my expression emboldens her. Her tongue flicks out, tasting the first drops of precum. My hand tangles in her wild hair, pushing her down, deeper into the wet heat of her mouth.
She fights me, pulling back with a gasp, strands of saliva clinging to her lips.
“No, Mr. Draven. We do this at my pace, or not at all.” She gives me a teasing lick. “Surely you can be patient…”
“Don’t talk to me like that, Elara,” I snarl.
“Like what?”
Then she takes me deep, so deep I disappear into her throat. My teeth clench against the groan clawing its way up.
“Like I’m some old man you’re doing a favor.” My fingers dig into her chin, forcing her eyes up to mine—unsteadying me. “You want this.”
The fire in her gaze is confirmation enough. Elara is far more than she first appeared. Calling her a beast was never far from the truth. The first time I saw her, naked under the glow of the Red Auction’s lights, I knew I had to take her with me. She’s the challenge I’ve spent my life searching for.
Elara was a dying ember, smoke curling from her remains—but slowly, she’s reignited. Now her fire burns so bright the world can’t help but stare, aching to feel her scorching presence. A fire that, with the storm in her eyes, promises devastation.
Thinking like this only proves I’m in danger. I should let her go before she burns me completely.
The fury of that realization drives me to thrust deeper, filling her mouth until she gags. Her eyes water, but no tears fall. Her hands slide up my thighs, bold and teasing.
“You told me to show you the worst,” I rasp, voice thick with need. “Relax your throat.”
She murmurs something unintelligible, her tongue working me with slow, filthy strokes. Watching her like this steals my breath—how can she look so sinful? I’ve ruined her, corrupted her to the core.
My fingers tighten in her ink-black hair. I’m close, so close, and she knows it. Her licks turn wicked, her hand pumping where her mouth can’t reach. The mirrors around us reflect her on her knees, my cock buried in her mouth, her fist moving relentlessly. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
Pleasure coils down my spine like lightning. I thrust deep, hitting untouched parts of her throat, and my release crashes over me. My jaw locks, but a groan escapes anyway. Her eyes gleam as she swallows, her throat working around me, pulling me back to the edge.
“My little beast is bolder than I thought.”
A cold sweat slicks my nape as I pull out, smearing my release across her lips. I drag my thumb through the mess, pressing it back into her mouth. Her tongue curls around me, greedy.
“Fuck… Elara.”
Before she can react, I yank her up, crushing her against me. My mouth claims hers, teeth cutting into her lip. She moans, and I swallow the sound. We’re a tangle of limbs, teeth, and blood—a chaos of hunger.
Then I hear voices beyond the door.
Despite bribing one of Ciro’s staff to keep this room private, I trust no one. So I pull away, leaving Elara dazed, her lips swollen and bleeding.
I fasten my pants and, before she can protest, move behind her to loosen her corset. If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it.
“Meet me outside when you’re ready.”
One last glance at her wild reflection in the mirrors, and I slip out, tossing a bag of gold to the stunned attendant. The party’s eyes follow me—some lustful, others hungry for power.
“So, someone finally made you break your own rules.”
Ciro appears beside me, grinning like he’s drunk. His collar hangs open, revealing bite marks and scratches.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I turn away, but Ciro never lets go.
“Oh, come on. It’s hard to admit you desire a human, especially after opposing them for so long.”
“Why don’t you entertain your guests and leave me alone?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He smirks. “You’ll never love her the way humans need. There’s something dead in you—not like the rest of us. A real shame.”
“How tragic for you,” I deadpan. “But she doesn’t want human love from me.”
“You sound sure.”
“Eyes talk, Ciro. And hers have spoken.”
“And what did they say?”
“That you should shut the fuck up unless you want to choke on your own intestines.”
He laughs, raising his glass in mock salute. Around us, whispers rise. I wait longer than I should before impatience gnaws at me.
Then a familiar scent cuts through the crowd—forest, blood, damp earth.
Elara’s absence sharpens into dread.
I storm back to the mirror room. Her ruby collar lies discarded on the floor—a taunt. I follow her trail, past shattered mirrors, to a hidden door smeared with blood. Hers.
Rage surges as I plunge into the dark, hunting her scent through winding tunnels. A broken gate leads outside, where ten shifters stand in a clearing. One holds Elara, his claws at her throat. Blood soaks her white dress.
“Long time no see,” the shifter mocks, licking his claws.
I don’t recognize him—golden eyes, fanged maw, sand-colored hair. A wolf, judging by his build.
“Should I?” I shrug. “You all look the same.”
“Arrogance doesn’t suit you,” he sneers. “Not when I could snap her neck.”
Elara’s head lolls, but I catch the faint pulse at her throat.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing you can give.” He yanks her against him. “I already have it.”
I bare my teeth. “A human is what you want?”
"I want a human—if the human means anything to you," he replies mockingly.
"Then take her." I wave my hand dismissively. "I’ll find a better one. After all, human women aren’t my type—especially not such a sickly one."
"Are you sure?" He brushes his lips against Elara’s cheek, and though she’s unconscious, her body rebels. Her face twists in disgust, a convulsion wracking her frame. "I think she’s a fighter. I think that’s what turns you on, isn’t it?"
The shapeshifter’s nose trails down her cheek, burying itself in the curve of her neck. The sight enrages me, and I hate that. My hands clench into fists so tight the leather of my gloves creaks. Or maybe it’s the ground. My power seeps through my fingers, tearing the earth beneath us like paper. The other shapeshifters cry out in shock, scrambling for cover. One dares to lunge at me—a single glance, a flick of my wrist, and he’s torn apart. His guts splatter my clothes, his blood spraying his companions.
"Let her go, or I’ll get creative with how I rip you apart," I growl.