The Devils Daughter

Chapter Nine: Bargaining

The walk home felt longer than usual, weighed down by supplies and confusion. I'd spent two gold coins—two!—and still had everything I needed for months. Eight coins remained, hidden in my cottage. A fortune. A future.

But what good was a future when I didn't understand my present?

I put away my purchases methodically, trying to calm my racing thoughts. The fabric went into my trunk. The candles on the shelf. The food in my small pantry. Each item a small victory, a small piece of security.

But security wasn't what I needed. I needed information. I needed to understand what was happening to me, why the priest had tried to kill me, what Caine wanted beyond my body, why he appeared in town as Lord Rene.

I needed answers, and he'd made it clear he wouldn't give them freely.

But he wanted something from me. My body. My submission. My pleasure. He came to me every night, claimed me with an intensity that went beyond simple lust. There was hunger in him, need, something almost desperate beneath his dominance.

Maybe that was my leverage. The only power I had.

The thought made my stomach flutter with nervousness and something darker. Could I do it? Could I use his desire against him? Could I be bold enough, brave enough, to take control—even for a moment?

I looked at the copper tub in the corner of my cottage. I'd bought soap today. Good soap that smelled of lavender. If I was going to try this, I should prepare properly.

I heated water over the fire, poured it into the tub, and undressed slowly. My body was a map of Caine's possession—bruises in various shades, bite marks, the persistent ache between my thighs. But as I sank into the warm water, something shifted inside me.

I wasn't just preparing to be taken. I was preparing to take.

I washed carefully, thoroughly, using the lavender soap on every inch of skin. My hands moved over my breasts, still tender from his mouth, down my stomach to the apex of my thighs. I was sore there, used, but I cleaned myself gently, thinking about what I was planning to do.

I'd never done it before. Never taken a man in my mouth. But I'd felt his c**k in my hands, knew its size and shape and heat. I knew how he responded to touch, how his control slipped when pleasure overwhelmed him.

If I could make him feel that way, could I bargain for answers? Could I trade pleasure for information?

It was worth trying. It was the only weapon I had.

I dried myself and didn't bother dressing. He preferred me naked anyway, ready for him. But tonight, I wouldn't just wait passively. Tonight, I would act.

The sun set, and shadows lengthened across my cottage. I sat on my bed, naked, my heart pounding with nervousness and determination. My hair was still damp from the bath, falling in dark waves around my shoulders. I smelled of lavender instead of fear.

When the darkness in the corner began to move, I was ready.

---

Valdin materialized out of shadow, his demon form towering and terrible and beautiful. His horns caught the last rays of dying light. Those blind-looking eyes found me immediately, and hunger flared in them.

"Good," he said, his voice that deep rumble I felt in my bones. "You're learning. Naked and waiting, just as you should be."

He moved toward me, predatory and confident, expecting me to submit as I always did.

But this time, I stood up and walked toward him.

He stopped, surprise flickering across his angular features. "What are you doing?"

"Touching you," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. My hands reached out, trembling slightly, and pressed against his chest. His skin was hot beneath my palms, and the dark lines writhed under my touch. "You touch me every night. Why shouldn't I touch you?"

His hand came up and caught my wrist, not roughly, but firmly. "Careful, little mortal. You're being very brave tonight."

"Maybe I'm tired of being afraid." My other hand moved lower, trailing down the ridges of his stomach. He tensed, his breath catching. "Maybe I want to understand what I'm dealing with."

"And you think touching me will help you understand?" His voice was amused, but I heard the edge of arousal beneath it.

"Maybe." My hand moved lower still, and then I was touching him there—his c**k, already hard, already ready for me. I wrapped my fingers around it, feeling its heat and size, and heard him make a sound low in his throat.

"Elara." My name was a warning.

"You said I belong to you," I whispered, my hand moving slowly along his length. "You said my body is yours. But this belongs to me too, doesn't it? What you feel when you're inside me. What you feel when I touch you like this."

His hand tightened on my wrist, but he didn't pull me away. "You're playing a dangerous game."

"I'm not playing." I sank to my knees before him, and his sharp intake of breath was audible. "I'm bargaining."

I looked up at him from my knees, my hand still wrapped around his c**k, and saw something shift in those frost-colored eyes. Surprise. Hunger. And something that might have been respect.

"Bargaining," he repeated slowly. "For what?"

"Answers." I leaned forward, my breath ghosting over the head of his c**k, and watched him shudder. "I'll give you this. I'll give you my mouth. But you have to tell me something. Anything. Why you're here. What you want. Why the priest tried to kill me."

"That's not how our bargain works." But his voice was strained, and his c**k twitched in my hand.

"Then make a new bargain." I pressed my lips to the tip, just barely, a whisper of contact, and he groaned. "One answer. That's all I'm asking."