Title: ‘Tween a Devil and His Hard Place
Author: Sam Cheever
Publisher: Cerridwen Press, www.cerridwenpress.com
ISBN: 978 14199 16779
In this scene, Astra is being dragged to an audience with King Dialle the First, the King of the Royal Devil Court. She doesn’t really know what to expect…but is still surprised by the outcome:
The hallway we traveled was long and well lit. Both sides were lined with heavy wooden doors and above each one was a wall sconce that emitted a soft, yellow light. The carpet beneath our feet was impossibly white and thick enough to sleep on. The air gave off a heated, slightly musky smell that told me the huge stone building was filled with otherworldly types.
I struggled to keep up with the two leggy devils. I had to nearly run or I would fall behind. Occasionally Dialle would reach back and tug on my hand to pull me forward. Whenever I fell behind I had to force my traitorous gaze away from his taut, yummy buttocks and once he caught me looking and laughed. My face turned very red but I glared back at him defiantly, daring him to comment.
Gerch turned a corner and I found myself in another endless hallway that looked much the same as the first one. That hallway turned, eventually, into a third hallway that finally ended beyond a gilded archway filled with armed guards and a harem of beautiful women, both devil and fallen angel. The guards stood at rigid attention on either side of the archway and both sides of the huge, gold-plated doors in the center. The women lounged on chaises and were flung across long, backless divans, their sheer robes shimmering in the soft yellow light, softly draping their gold and silver flesh.
I looked at the women and frowned. “What’s with the harem?”
Dialle gave them only the merest glance as we entered the alcove created by the arched entranceway. “They vie for the king’s attention. He is supposed to be choosing a new Queen but he apparently suffers from the human condition called ADD. He can’t seem to focus on one
woman for any length of time.”
I sensed he wanted to say more but, just then, Gerch pushed one of the= gilded doors inward and Dialle’s attention was pulled away with a jerk. He drew himself up with a sigh and grabbed my arm. “He is also a very impatient creature. Let us go.”
Dialle led the way through the gilded doors. He pulled me into the room behind him and all but dragged me to his side, where he immediately put an arm around my waist and proceeded to rip my mental drawers open. “Show no fear Astra.”
“What’s to fear?” I responded in a negligent mental tone and he turned to arch a look at me.
“You are teasing me right?”
King Dialle the First stood across a cavernous room in front of wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over an Angel City skyline which sparkled in the distance. He stood with his back to us, his hands folded behind him and his long, muscular legs braced apart in a warrior’s stance. His silky black hair flowed down his back and stopped, curling slightly at the ends, just where perfectly sculpted buttocks rounded out from a narrow waist. The hair was loose except for the last six inches, which were tied together in a thick bunch with some kind of leather tie. He wore white leather leggings that fit his well muscled legs and perky round buttocks like a second skin and nothing else. As he turned I noticed a large tattoo shaped like a pitchfork on one muscular biceps. I smiled.
His face could have been designed in heaven. Well, actually it was. The golden brow was wide and clear, with a thick mane of hair flowing back from a widow’s peak at the center. His eyes were deeply set, narrow and very sexy. His nose was long, tapered and straight. The jaw was square, with just a tiny bit of black stubble on it that made him look dangerous and very sexy. He had high, strong cheekbones, like his son but when he grinned, as he did now, his cheeks creased with matching dimples that made certain places on my body tingle. His shoulders were almost impossibly broad and his chest was a smooth, hairless, golden color and deeply muscled.
The king’s black-velvet gaze slid past his son and fixed on me. “Alas, behold my Queen.”
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