by Rory Miles
“There will be another meeting in Avernus.”
He nods, but doesn’t say anything, so I continue.
“Levia and Berith will both be there. Given what I’ve taken from the princess, and Berith coming for us, you know how that will end. Beelzebub and Verrina are on our side, but we don’t know how the rest of the royals will react.”
I think of Astaroth. He won’t lift a finger in either direction, too lazy to pick a side. The others, though, they’re wild cards and we can’t plan on any of their support.
“Lucifer won’t intervene during the fights, but once they’re over, he will not allow the winners to live. They’d be too much of a threat to his reign.”
I grimace because I know he’s right. “The fight will not be easy, but I can’t let this go. Levia bargained our lives away.”
We’ve somehow come to the night patio. Walking to the edge of the floor, I brace my hands on the elegant railing that encloses the space. Anakin hovers close, gazing at the shadow-covered sky.
“I understand. . .”
There is more he wants to say, I’m certain of it.
“But?”
He breathes out and yanks the ponytail holder from his hair, brushing through it with his fingers as he speaks. “What is it all for? What are we doing here? In Faerie? With Draven? The claiming? What do you want from this?”
“That is a lot of questions,” I quip, earning a scathing look from him. Micah would have laughed had he been here. He isn’t, though, and Anakin deserves the truth if he wants it.
“I want it all, Anakin.”
His face twists, so I clarify.
“I want the claiming with Beelzebub; he has this pull I can’t deny. Draven, well,” I sigh, “he’s a happy coincidence and I’m not sure what his end game is, but the shadow fae power I’ve gained will help defeat our enemies.”
“And what of Avernus?”
Turning and pressing my butt against the railing, I cross my arms and look him dead in the eye.
“I will be High Lady.”
He doesn’t laugh, which is a relief, but the way his eyes search mine tell me he’s not sure I can do it.
“I’ll make them all bow to me.”
Glancing out into the night, he asks, “Faerie? You’re already Lady of Shadows.”
I wave my hand. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Can you fulfill both roles?”
Taking a moment to consider his question, because I’m not sure I can, I let my shoulders drop.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to try. Draven doesn’t need me here full-time, and with the time difference, I can be here for longer stretches without missing much in Avernus.”
He steps closer and I brush back his hair, linking my fingers behind his neck.
“Okay, I’ll help you.”
I smile. It’s cute he thought he had any other option. As if reading my thoughts, his gaze narrows.
“I had to be sure.”
Nodding, I say, “Uh-huh. I’m glad I’ve convinced you.”
“You think you’re cute, don’t you?”
Cute? No. Bunnies and hell hounds are cute. I’m not cute. Dropping my allure, even though I know he can resist me with that stupid bracelet, I tell him just that.
His eyes are hooded as he watches my fingers trail down his chest.
“Definitely not cute,” I growl, ripping open his pants and shoving them down. His erection springs free and strains for me.
“Shera.”
“I know, demon period. Who said anything about sex?” I go on my toes and kiss him deeply before dropping to my knees.
When my mouth closes around the head of his cock, it throbs once and his fingers dig into my hair. I hear him groan and grip the railing as I begin working him with my mouth and hand. With the allure, it’s quick work to get him to the brink, but before he can come, I stop and pull my lips off his cock with a pop.
“That was not cute.”
He looks at me, eyes wide and pleading. “Totally not cute.” Trying to guide me back to his aching dick, I tut and push back. The grunt he makes is sexy as hell, and I love knowing how much he needs me right now.
“Tell me how cute I am again?”
“Not at all. Fucking sexy as sin on your knees and that mouth is gorgeous wrapped around my cock.”
“Good boy,” I purr and close my lips around him once more, making him come in three quick strokes. His fingers tighten in my hair and that funny little noise I love to hear passes through his lips.
He helps me stand once he’s recovered, covering my mouth with his.
“Is it too soon to say I love you again?”
I laugh. “After a lifetime together, before you stupidly got sent away, I’d say no.”
“Shera!” Lietta screeches and nearly flies into a candle. “Come quickly. It’s the vampire.”
“Which one?” I ask, but she’s already swooping back inside. “Damnit,” I growl and chase after her. Why is there never any peace?
When we reach the dining room, all I see is Amelia standing on the table and shouting at Beelzebub. He looks shell-shocked, head pulled back and mouth tugging down. Her words are nonsense, but I make out cage and drugs before she launches herself at him.
Vicki wraps a hand around the vampire’s ankle and Amelia crashes to the table, food smearing over her jeans.
Lietta mutters something about demon bullshit before flying away, probably to go help Sewyn clean the kitchen, and I can’t help but echo her sentiment in my mind.
“What is going on?” I ask Vicki.
She grimaces. “I don’t know. One moment she was fine, the next she’s shouting at the prince and Verrina.”
Verrina is standing away from the table, eyeing the downed woman with pity.
“It’s probably the wine and the trauma,” Micah says, wiping some spots of food from his suit before standing and heading to Amelia’s head, which is over by Beelzebub.
Shooing the prince from his seat, Micah plops down and levels with the vampire.
“Do you know where you are?”
Amelia eyes him like he’s the enemy.
Micah smiles. “You’re in Faerie. Remember? We kicked some demon ass to help you escape and now you’re incredibly drunk.”
Vicki lets go of her ankle so the woman can sit up.
Crossing her legs in front of her, Amelia says, “Faerie?”
Micah nods. “I know, right?”
She glances to where Beelzebub and Verrina stand. “Why are they here?”
He leans forward and whispers, “They’re on our side.”
Her eyes widen. “No!”
Micah nods, eyes lighting with excitement. “I know, right?”
Amelia places her palm against her forehead. “Devil, I feel awful.” She sways where she sits. Apparently, vampires nearly starved to death get really, really drunk off of two glasses of fae wine.
Two glasses are enough to get me buzzed, so I imagine she’s feeling ready to puke or pass out. Hopefully the latter.
Micah passes her a glass of water. “Drink this, and eat this.” She takes the glass and the small roll he hands her.
“Thanks,” she smiles and glances around like she suddenly realizes the rest of us are staring at her. “Ohhhhh. . . did I just embarrass myself?”
He grimaces. “Yeah, girl, you really did. Don’t worry, though, I promise to get them all so drunk they won’t remember.”
Her eyes are watery when she smiles. She bites into the roll and chugs some water once she’s done chewing. “Mother FAE this bread is good.”
“Fae food is the best,” Micah agrees. The rest of us just watch whatever is unfolding between the two of them because we don’t know how to handle her. Micah’s good in situations like this, his easy personality and jokes can smooth any troubled waters.
When Amelia finishes, she looks at Vicki, then back at Micah. “I think I’d like to go to bed now.”
Vicki stands, extending her arms so Amelia can
hold onto her as she climbs off the table.
“Thank you,” the drunk vampire tells Micah.
“Anytime.”
I snap my fingers to conjure a wraith, and to my surprise one actually shows up. It’s much smaller than Betty, but it’ll have to do.
“Blanche will show you to your rooms.”
Realizing I don’t actually know anything about the rooms, I glance at Draven. “Right?”
He laughs and Betty appears, flying after Blanche and taking the lead. It’s almost like she’s training my little baby wraith.
“Blanche, really?” Micah asks with a short chuckle. “The wraith is black.”
“I know! That’s why it’s so cute.”
He shakes his head and Naomi clears her throat.
“Well, that was weird,” she says. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She was kept in a cage, Naomi. Just like you.” My words are not spoken harshly, but they’re firm. “I don’t know how long she was locked up, but she needs our compassion and understanding.”
How rich is this? A demon preaching about compassion? Oy. How far I’ve fallen. Or is it how high I’ve soared, seeing as demons are technically fallen?
She looks down. “You’re right. I wasn’t trying to be rude.”
I sigh. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.”
“Well, I think it’s time for bed,” Jasper says as he yawns. “I’ve had enough drama for one day and the wine is making me sleepy.”
Draven agrees, making a few more wraiths appear. “There are plenty of rooms. You’ll all be in the west wing, which is close to my bed chambers.”
I turn to follow the rest of the group, but Beelzebub snatches my waist. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Blinking up at him, I say, “To bed?”
He laughs. “Oh no, not quite yet.”
Draven appears behind me. “We’ve got something special planned for you, My Lady.”
Anakin and Micah have disappeared with the rest of the group, so I’m alone with the two royals. One a Shadow Lord from Faerie, and the other the heir to Hell. A wicked smile splits my face.
Now this is the way to end the night.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Draven is quick to use his shadows, dropping us in a room I don’t recognize. It’s dark, decorated in blacks and grays, but the thing that snags my attention is the bed. Anchored into the wall are two thick chains; at the end of each are solid cuffs of steel. On the opposite end, there are foot restraints.
The wall just to the left of the bed holds several floggers, vibrators of varying shapes and sizes, blindfolds and satin gags.
“Oh. My. Fucking. Fae.”
I love rooms like this, they hold so many promises of pleasure and pain. Part of me can’t believe Draven has one, but I hardly know him and there’s still plenty of time to discover all of his naughty secrets. I could use those floggers to teach him a lesson. Maybe after a few good lashings, he’ll remember not to lie to me again. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
Beelzebub’s rumbled laughter caresses my skin, and I drop my glamour.
“Get on the bed, big guy.”
He makes a face at me. “I think you misunderstand what this is about.”
“What?”
Draven grabs me and shadow transports us to the bed, landing with him straddling my hips. When he locks one wrist in the cuffs, he says, “This is meant to teach you patience.”
“What about—” I begin to ask but am cut off by the demon prince.
“That is of no consequence to either of us.”
Engaging in sexual activities during my demon fertility period is like playing Russian roulette. I’m not very concerned about becoming pregnant, I’ve been through a thousand periods and haven’t had an incident. Reckless as it may be, I don’t care. Even if I do end up with child, it will be the greatest news I’ve ever received. I’ve wanted to be a mother for many centuries.
The other cuff clinks when it closes. I test them, straining slightly, and they don’t give. My heart is racing, but not in a bad way, when Beelzebub grabs my ankles and locks them in place. Completely restrained, I’m spread-eagle but still fully clothed.
“Wait, you left my dress on.”
“Don’t you worry about that.”
I purse my lips, not liking that I don’t get a say in what’s about to happen. My nature is too dominant to play submissive, but seeing as they’ve got me all chained up, I don’t really have a choice.
I love it.
Draven drops his lips to mine, sending a searing heat through my body. When he pulls away, Beelzebub hands him a blindfold.
“Do you trust us?”
With his motives, no. With sex, yes. I nod.
He says, “I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes, I trust you.”
“Good, this is going to be fun.”
Draven, Lord of Shadows, ties the blindfold around me, blocking out one of my senses. My eyelids flutter against the material, and every other sense strains to make up for the loss of sight. Hearing a faint rustling, I feel the satin material of the gag pressed against my lips.
“Really?” I ask. “How am I supposed to kiss you?”
“You won’t be doing any kissing, love.”
And with that, he slides the material into my mouth and secures it behind my head. When his weight leaves me, I want to protest but it’s hard to speak with the gag.
While not my first time, I’m still a bundled mess of nerves. My breathing has grown erratic.
When rough fingers grab my dress and rip it off of me, I gasp in delight. I’m lying in my bra and thong, vulnerable, and I can’t see a thing. Totally at the mercy of two powerful royal males. It would be so easy for them to do me harm, but I trust them and know they won’t. Still, just surrendering my body to them, to their complete control, has me feeling a strange sense of excitement.
Four hands are on me, two at my arms, tracing their way toward my breasts, and the other two on my ankles and slowly, languidly working toward my core. The restraints don’t let me move much, but my back arches and I try to get them to work faster.
“You are not in control,” Beelzebub whispers into my ear. “Let it go.”
With my glamour down, I’m not sure how they’re resisting me so easily. Then I remember, Draven has the bracelet and Beelzebub is the heir. With me restrained and unable to touch, he won’t succumb to my thrall so easily.
“Easy, Shera. You’re thinking too much.”
Taking three deep breaths, I let my body melt into the bed, relaxing and letting them use my body.
With practiced ease, my bra is unclasped and my underwear is pulled down. In an odd synchronization that makes me wonder if they’ve done this before, even though I know they haven’t because they just met, their mouths close over the sensitive parts of my body.
Beelzebub’s thick tongue swirls over my nipple, his hand kneading the other and tweaking it. Draven is working miracles, teasing the bundle of nerves at my apex, sliding two fingers into me. The slight friction is delicious, and I moan into the gag.
The demon prince pulls away, and I almost cry out in protest. Draven’s mouth is distracting and soon I forget about everything but his mouth on me. I’m so close to an explosive orgasm, I feel my core clench. I make a mewling sound and he stops, an unwelcome break in the building pressure. My body throbs with needs.
“Please,” I try to say but it comes out mumbled and one of them shushes me. I narrow my gaze, but they can’t see it with the blindfold on.
When I heard several leather threads jostle together, I go still. What comes next is possibly the most sexually torturous experience of my life. A mouth that can only be Beelzebub’s, because it’s different from the one before, teases my clit now.
I haven’t forgotten the sound of that flogger, and I’m anxiously waiting for it. The building of pressure is swift and I ride it, waiting for the sweet release, but once again, I’m left wanting when I make a sound.
> Sensing the pattern, I bite my cheek and wait like a good little succubus. Once he’s certain I’ll be quiet, he works me again, teasing and threatening me with the pleasure that’s yet to come.
I have no idea when they will let me crest that peak and it’s driving me mad.
Suddenly, someone uncuffs my ankles and the mouth at my center is gone. My body is twisted so I’m kneeling on the bed; my arms are crossed and straining with the adjustment. I start to wiggle forward but strong hands on my hips stop me.
I’m not in control here.
One of them scoots me up on the bed when I stop moving, easing some of the strain. I don’t know who, I think Draven just by the feel of his lips on my spine, kisses my back before lining up his cock with my dripping wet pussy.
When he eases into me, I wonder if it’s Beelzebub because it fills me up and stretches me. The flogger is still out there somewhere, but I don’t know if they actually plan to use it.
Whoever is fucking me sets a punishing pace, and I jolt forward with every stroke. He places his hands around my waist to keep me steady and slams me back into him, my ass smacking against his low stomach. My breasts jiggle, but not for long because someone comes to sit at the top of the bed, undoing my restraints and adjusting my arms. Whichever one of them it is slides so his lap is under me. The gag is untied.
“You are not to speak.”
Draven.
So Beelzebub is the one fucking me. When I feel Draven’s cock near my mouth, I smile.
“Do you want me—”
Crack.
The flogger stings my ass, and I gasp, coming on the spot. The pain ebbs with each hard stroke Beelzebub gives me.
“No speaking.”
I nod obediently and take Draven into my mouth, working him the best I can while I’m being pummeled doggy-style. It isn’t easy, but I manage to make it work with Draven’s help. He holds my shoulders steady, giving Beelzebub even more to push against.
When Draven’s cock pulses, I say, “I don’t think it’s fair for you—” the falls snap against my skin and I moan, letting another orgasm take over for a second. “—to come when you wouldn’t let me.”