Page 38 of Her Demon Mate

“I want answers.” It is not a question, it is a demand. There is no more desperation or hurt in my voice. “I want to know why you’re acting like you’ve completely lost your mind.”

“I don’t need to tell you anything.” Elia pulls away from me. And while she might be dangerous, she still isn’t strong enough to pull herself out of my grasp.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. I’m not obligated to like you or want to spend time with you! Or is that what you demons do? Take whatever you want from women?”

Her words are a taunt as she looks up at me, and her mouth is twisted in a sneer.

You do like me though.

The words are clear as a bell in my head. I pull her even closer, so that her body is pressed against mine. I place my other hand on her hip.

“Maybe I’d take offense,” I breathe into her ear. I don’t miss the way she shivers. “If I thought you didn’t like me. But I know you do. Whatever is going on with you, I know you want me.”

She jerks away from me, nearly staggering away from me, and I let her go with a snort.

“You’re an arrogant bastard,” she snarls. “And maybe if you weren’t, I would feel more comfortable with telling you anything.”

Her rage is palpable, almost shimmering in the air between us.

And again, all I can think is that she has never looked more beautiful, with her face flushed and rosy and her hair thrown into disarray. She is beautiful and angry and very, very dangerous.

All I can do is walk towards her, as though I have been hypnotized.

Stunning.

“You need to leave me alone.” The warning in her voice is clear. “I don’t want to see you again.”

“We both know that that is a lie.”

Something inside her must snap.

“I’m leaving!” she screams as she turns. My arm shoots out, and I grab her by the waist.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

I hear her breath hitch in her throat just before our lips meet.

18

AZRON

Anger and resentment ripples in the air between us as our lips clash against one another.

Both my hands are gripping her arms, but she hasn’t tried pulling away yet, despite clearly wanting to.

Why hasn’t she pulled away yet?

The thought whips through my head a million times in a second as Elia sags against me and fully gives in to the heat racing between us.

Her anger is still palpable. Her anger is so violent that I can almost taste it on her mouth when our lips crash together.

Resentment and reluctance burn in the kiss, but Elia still doesn’t pull away, doesn’t let go. When I take a step away from her, she lets out a whimper of protest and locks her arms around my shoulders.

My hands slide down her strong arms, and our fingers lace together for a second before I take her waist with both hands and pull her even closer to me.

Elia kisses me fiercely, alternating between sucking on my tongue and my lips, and biting my lips.

This time when I step away, she doesn’t protest – maybe because I am still holding onto her.