Demon Hunter

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Demon Hunter Page 7

by Jacquie Underdown


  Jonty stood before her, shoulders broad. She couldn’t help reaching for his chest and smoothing her hands over the deep inclines. Nor could she resist sliding a single finger down his torso, between the muscled slopes of his taut stomach, across the v-shaped muscles below his hips that pointed her toward that enormous hard-on, standing so rigid, the tip glistening with pre-come.

  She grabbed for it, held the long length, and lowered onto her knees. With his cock still in hand, she positioned the smooth, pink head between her lips and sucked. Jonty moaned with pleasure, and the carnal sound made her sex ache. She looked up to him. He was peering down at her with his gorgeous blue-grey eyes, face slack with the intensity of pleasure that was surging through his body. She took his cock deep inside her mouth now, to the back of her throat, all the while watching his intense stare and the sheer desire expressed in his eyes.

  Sammy sucked and lapped at the hard length of him then tightened her lips, hollowing her cheeks as she slid her mouth up and down his steely manhood. Moans of ecstasy streamed from his mouth. His stomach tightened, thighs tense as she brought him to the edge of sexual fulfillment. Seeing him this aroused, feeling his hands tighten as he gripped her hair, made her so wet and swollen she could explode.

  “Oh, fuck. Sammy, if you keep going I’m going to come,” he groaned.

  She ran her tongue in soft circles now, over his slick head, slowing the pace, backing him away from the edge of orgasm, and peered up at him.

  He nodded in the direction of the bed. She grinned.

  Sammy took her panties off and lay on the bed. Jonty stood beside the bed, watching her.

  “Spread your legs,” he said.

  She did as she was told, pulling her thighs wide apart so he could see all of her wet glory.

  “Touch yourself,” he whispered. “Show me how you do it.”

  Coyly, she brought her finger to her clitoris and began to twirl the swollen nub. Jonty took his cock in his hand and stroked it as he watched her. She worked at her clit, small circles that brought such intense pleasure. Her body thrummed, her deep walls clenching as tendrils of sensation spread. It was so erotic, his standing beside the bed, pumping at his cock, his jaw loose, eyes soft, that pink flush of arousal warming his cheeks.

  “Can you please?” she asked.

  “Can I what?” he said, a teasing grin forming on his lips.

  “Come here,” she said, still twirling that sensual bud, her entire body flushed with heat.

  He crawled toward her across the bed. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  She watched this incredible man inching toward her, each of his muscles flexing, his delicious cock thick and hard, and the words flew from her mouth, “I want you to fuck me. Now.”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he growled, kneeling between her thighs.

  He lifted her legs up and spread them, holding them as wide apart as possible, hands under her knees. He positioned his cock at her opening and didn’t hesitate to plunge it deep until he was buried. He began to thrust—long, hard strokes. There was no tenderness now, there was only room left for pure sexual gluttony by both of them. With each upward thrust he ground his pelvis against her clitoris, causing a carnal explosion with each movement.

  God, she felt dirty and sexy, her legs so wide, his cock plunging hard and deep. His eyes as they raked over the length of her, taking in her breasts that wobbled with each movement, his sultry eyes, the passion consuming his features, made her feel so desirable. And those long breaths and erotic moans coming from Jonty, the way he whispered… “Oh, Sammy. You feel so good. Oh, my fucking… So fucking tight… I won’t take long, you are too gorgeous…”

  It tipped her over the edge. Heat consumed her, and pleasure twisted and tightened every muscle in her body. The walls of her center clenched hard over his cock, and from her clitoris a magnificent thrum of sensation exploded outward and upward, washing over her, caressing her with gluttonous gratification. She cried out Jonty’s name from her breathless throat and went lax against the mattress, panting.

  Jonty’s body jerked, and a deep rumbling sounded from his chest as he pumped warm spurts of cream deep inside. He collapsed on the bed beside her, rasping.

  “Sammy… You… I’ve never known such pleasure until now.”

  She looked into his genuine eyes. “Neither have I.”

  Her pulled her against him and wrapped her in his arms. “I love you so much.”

  She closed her eyes and smiled. “I love you too.”

  Chapter 16

  Sammy was shuffled into a small room, fitted out with two chairs, one for her, and one for her temporary guardian, Corporal Marshal, a tall, muscled man with the same sensuous eyes as Jonty and dressed in army fatigues.

  Jonty lowered her onto the chair, kneeled between her legs, and kissed her hard on the lips. “You’ll be safe here,” he said.

  She looked at him with pleading eyes. “I wish you would be here with me.”

  He nodded. “I know. I won’t be here in body, but I’ll be able to sense everything and feel every emotion you’re experiencing. And I’ll never be too far away. I can lure them, Sammy. They’ll think that where I am, you’ll be. It’ll be safer for you without me here.”

  Her bottom lip trembled, despite all her efforts to not show him how scared she was.

  “Be brave, Sammy, for just a short while. And then it will all be over and you and I can begin our life together, safely.”

  She nodded quickly.

  He cradled her cheeks in his hands. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  Sammy crushed her lips against his and kissed him with the passion that only two people who may never get the chance to do so again, can do. Only when Corporal Marshal cleared his throat did she release Jonty from her stranglehold.

  Jonty kissed her stomach and then her lips one last time. “I love you.”

  “Oh God, I love you,” she breathed.

  He pressed his forehead against hers, parted his lips to speak, but said nothing. Instead he stood and walked out of the room, not looking back.

  * * * *

  Minutes passed like hours, hours like days. Anxiety nestled deep in her belly, never finding reprieve, no matter how long she sat there, thinking, worrying. Corporal Marshal, despite being in communication with the other Greys, remained stone-faced. She wanted to know if the Dark Walkers had attacked yet. Were they already fighting? Was everyone safe? Sammy turned to look at Marshal, opened her mouth to ask, and then the lights went out and the generator rattled to a stop. The room was drenched in a stifling blackness. The locks would be inactivated without electricity.

  Marshal scraped the legs on his chair against the cement floor as he hastened to his feet, snatched the torch holstered to his belt, and flicked it on, casting a dim block of light toward the door.

  “They know where you are,” he said, voice urgent, reaching for his gun.

  Sammy’s heart felt like it was being squeezed so tight it could burst. The lock on the door clicked. Marshal threw his arm around her and pushed her toward the left wall, forcing her behind his body.

  “Right ankle holster. Gun. Get it. Be prepared to use it,” he ordered.

  Fear dizzied her and made her ears ring. With shaking hands, through the thick darkness, she reached for the gun.

  The door swung open. A continual stream of yells and shots rang out, so loud Sammy thought her eardrums might explode. Blasts of light flashed in front of her eyes. Despite the fear, the lack of oxygen being drawn past her constricted throat, she didn’t stop until her fingers curled around the butt of the pistol and she pulled it from the holster.

  She straightened up quickly, but was struck by Marshal’s body as he flung back against her. Her head rebounded off the concrete wall, and her legs buckled under Marshal’s slumping weight. The pain from her head seemed to pierce her brain, sending pulses of bright light behind her eyes. Sammy fell to the floor. Marshal thudded on top of her, stealing the wind fro
m her lungs. She wheezed, desperately tried to suck in air, and yet still managed to keep a white-knuckled grip on the pistol.

  Sammy blinked, straining to see, as a torch was shone directly into her eyes. She lifted her gun, pointed, and blindly pulled the trigger. She heard a gurgled death-cry, felt and smelled the spray of blood against her face. Sammy ducked further behind and under Marshal’s body, shielding herself as much as she could. As soon as a shadow, any movement whatsoever flickered or shifted, she fired again, and again, and again.

  Then there was silence. She heard nothing but her uneven, rasping breaths and her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. The generators clicked and began to hum, and the lights flickered on. Sammy’s eyes flittered around the room at the five lifeless bodies slumped on the floor, against the walls—blood, skull fragments, and body parts scattered. The coppery smell of blood and pungent cordite seeped into her nostrils. Her stomach boiled upward to her throat and she dry-retched loudly. She kicked and pushed at Marshal’s body. His enormous size and weight now seemed suffocating.

  Sammy rolled out from under the dead weight onto her knees and lifted to her feet. She ran to a gun left lying on the middle of the floor and bent to pick it up.

  “Touch it and you fucking die,” came the thunderous voice drawing her gaze to the doorway.

  Her eyes widened. She swallowed the scream that welled in the back of her throat when she took in the figure that stood before her. It was a man, nearly seven feet tall, with eyes of bloody-black coloring. His face was human, yet at the same time, she could see the demon that was his true form. A snarling mouth, long pointed nose, sharp hollow cheeks, and a jutting chin. His expression was tortured and pure evil.

  Sammy slowly stepped away from the gun, back toward the wall, quivering. Still in her left hand was the gun she had taken from Marshal’s ankle holster. Without hesitating a second longer, she pointed the gun at the demon’s head and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, but didn’t fire. She pulled the trigger again and again. Nothing.

  “Now that didn’t work quite as you planned, did it?” he said, sarcasm embedded in every syllable.

  Sammy dropped the gun to the floor and stood motionless.

  The demon stalked closer, a malignant grin on his lips. “Oh, you do look mouth-watering.” He wet his lower lip with his forked tongue. “You know, we could have had a real good time together.” He sniffed at the air like a dog, still treading toward her. “I can smell you from here...you’re driving me wild. What a shame you let that Grey get to you before I could.” His eyes narrowed and a snarl ripped from his throat. “What we could have created could have been—”

  “An anomaly,” she whispered.

  He threw his head back and laughed. “A little feisty, aren’t we?” His next two steps were instantaneous; his hand was against her throat, his mouth on her ear. He smelled like death, like rotting flesh. Her stomach roiled.

  “We could have ruled the future, you and I. We could be gods. I could be God.”

  “You are the devil,” she choked.

  He pressed his hand harder against her windpipe, making her gasp for air. Misting his rotten breath against her cheek, he growled, “You’ll find that out more so than anyone. I’m going to gut you alive and hold up that abomination of yours in front of your eyes while you both die.”

  Her eyes shot wide open. She punched and clawed and kicked at him. But it was futile. Each strike bounced off of him like he was stone. He laughed and laughed, drowning the silent room with his deep wickedness until she was breathless from effort.

  “If you’re quite finished, I think it’s time I remove that impediment from your stomach.” He trailed his lips down her neck, the scent of death swirling into her nostrils with each deep breath. He ran his tongue along her collarbone, pinched her nipple between his fingers.

  Pain coursed through her breast, but she stifled the scream, not willing to give him the satisfaction. She closed her eyes, now flooding with tears, and tried to find Jonty. Was he still alive? She concentrated on him, seeking him out through the pain, fear, and turmoil. All she needed, before she died, was to know he was alive.

  She felt his spirit on the edges of her consciousness and could have fainted from relief. He was alive. Whatever happened to her now, at least she knew he was safe. “Don’t you give up,” came his voice in her mind. “Don’t you dare give up on me, on us.”

  Her eyes snapped open and she stared at the demon. He had lifted her t-shirt over her breasts and was crouched in front of her, staring at her stomach, at her baby, eyes wild with anger. Snarls rumbled from the back of his throat, as though the baby nestled in her womb was a grenade, set to destroy his life and his plans.

  She threw her palm as hard as she possibly could against the bridge of his nose, smashing the cartilage under the force. As he went to rise she kneed him hard in his balls. He stumbled back, so she kicked him with her steel-capped boot again between his legs. He fell forward, and she used the opportunity to kick him in the face—once, twice, thrice, four times. She ran for a loose gun as he fell back and smashed his head on the cement. She snatched the gun and pointed it at him.

  At that moment, Jonty stumbled through the door, his face a bloody mess. Gun poised, he fired it at the demon, blowing his brains across the cement, then collapsed onto his knees, gasping.

  Sammy screamed and ran for him. Jonty rolled onto his side, clutching at his shoulder and stomach. Blood seeped into his clothes. His eyes were nearly swollen shut, his cheek already a deep purple bruise.

  “You’ve been shot,” she gasped, kneeling beside him. She ripped her shirt over her head and pressed it against the stomach wound, trying to stifle the bleeding.

  Jonty laid back, a smile dancing on his lips.

  “What? What are you laughing about?” she screamed, fear pushing her to the edge of consciousness.

  “We did it, Sammy.” He stopped, winced. “He was the last one. He was the last one.”

  “You got all the Dark Walkers?”

  “Every last mother-fucking one of them.”

  “But what about you? You’re bleeding. We need help.”

  He laughed, but soon stopped and groaned. “It just hurts like fucking hell. But I’ll be fine.”

  She fell onto his chest, cuddled him as though there were no more tomorrows. “You’re fine?”

  “I’m fine. It’s over. We’re free.” He pulled her face to his and kissed her. “It’s going to be okay. It’s over.”

  Tears spilled from her eyes as a choking sob sounded from her throat.

  Commander Terse ran in, followed by three other Greys. Sammy stood, tears flooding her cheeks, and let them attend to Jonty. A Grey solider inspected her for wounds as Commander Terse applied the healing accelerator to Jonty. Before her eyes, the blood stopped, the gunshot wounds pushed out the bullets, and Jonty eventually sat up.

  Sammy felt relief lift from her body like steam from boiling water and ran for him. He pulled her down onto his lap and crushed his lips to hers. She kissed him so hard she forgot to breathe. “Oh, thank God you’re okay.”

  He took her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “You are so courageous and strong.”

  She nodded. “Your words kept the fire burning. There was too much at stake to just let him kill me.”

  “You did good, Sammy. So good.”

  “And you swear you got them all?”

  He nodded, looked up to the other Greys in the room. “It was hard fought, but the Dark Walkers have been exterminated.”

  “So what now?” she asked.

  He stroked the hair from her face and pressed his lips to hers. “Now we begin our life together, without fear. Just you and me and our beautiful baby.”

  Sammy sucked a deep breath in and out, a smile finally touching her lips. “Just you and me?”

  He nodded. “Forever.”

  About Jacquie Underdown

  On permanent hiatus from a profession she doesn’t love, Jacquie spends her time w
rapped up in her imagination, creating characters and exploring alternative realities.

  She is an author of a number of novels, novellas, and short stories that are emotionally driven and possess unique themes beyond the constraints of the physical universe. She strives to offer romance, but with complexity; spirituality, without the religion; love, with a splash of magic.

  Her novels express a purpose and offer subtle messages about life, the spirit, and of course, love.

  Jacquie’s Website:

  www.authoraire.com

  Reader eMail:

  [email protected]

 

 

 


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