The Sacrifice: A Paranormal MC Romance

by Jessica Gadziala

  His hands went to my head, holding on as I worked him the way I knew he liked best—fast, deep, unrelenting, messy. The longer I sucked him, the more I could feel his talons digging into my scalp. The more desperate he got for release, the more the Change would come upon him. The talons. The forked tongue. The more pointed teeth that had once bitten hard enough into my inner thigh to leave bloody imprints for two days. The horns would protrude ever so slightly in the moments right before he came, but I had yet to see him lose control completely, have those dark wings he'd mentioned emerge.

  His fingers grabbed my hair, yanking roughly back until his cock slid from my mouth with a pop. His thumb moved across my swollen lower lip, his gaze heated, but unreadable for a long moment before he lowered down to his knees as well, pressing me back against the soft blankets.

  Ly planted his hands on the blanket, his lips moving down my neck, over my breasts, licking, then sucking my nipple into his mouth until I arched up into him, a moan escaping me.

  Releasing me, he started a trail downward, his tongue tracing down the center of my belly, the crease of my thigh, then inward, licking up my cleft, moving over my clit with expert precision, driving me up hard and fast, pushing me over the edge before I could even tell I was teetering there.

  The orgasm surged through me, but he gave me no time to come back down, his tongue moving away from my clit for a moment, but still licking, teasing, as his fingers moved between us, surged inside. Soft and slow at first, but building in intensity, his fingers spreading with each thrust, preparing me, widening me. A third finger slipped inside, a small pinch accompanying the invasion, but quickly forgotten as the new, fuller sensation created an intensity that felt almost overwhelming.

  His tongue moved back to my clit as he thrust—harder, faster, deeper—driving me back up to that edge.

  But as soon as he had me there, his tongue left me, his fingers slid out.

  He straightened, sitting back on his calves, looking down at me with eyes that were nearly fully red with desire as he grabbed his cock, coating it with my wetness from his fingers before dragging my hips toward him slightly.

  I could feel my belly wobble as my walls fluttered, knowing this was it. The wait was over. We were both beyond anything even resembling resistance.

  He leaned forward, his cock pressing against my opening, feeling suddenly even bigger, thicker, than I'd realized. It pressed there before pushing a little harder, creating an unexpected burning sensation that had my breath gasping inward.

  Ly's gaze slid to mine, wild, but worried.

  "No?" he asked, voice tight.

  "I...yes," I said, already feeling the burning sensation easing. "You're just... big," I told him, taking a deep, steadying breath.

  "I can't make it not hurt," he told me, tone apologetic.

  "It's okay," I told him, my hand moving down, grabbing his. "You'll make it better."

  He gave me a tight nod at that as his hips shifted forward again, giving me more of the burn as my body adjusted to the invasion.

  When he had inched halfway in, he started to rock in his already charted territory, creating that friction my body told me it needed. His free hand moved toward my clit again for a long moment, driving me up.

  But then his hands sank into my hips, yanking them toward himself as he slammed forward, taking every inch of me, the pain immediate, making me cry out even as his body curled over mine, lips claiming mine.

  "Just give it a minute," he begged against my lips before kissing me. Soft, sweet, deep, distracting me from the pain.

  It wasn't long before I could feel that tight ache inside, that deep pressure, having my hips tentatively rocking against him, testing out the sensation, seeing if there was more of that same pain. It was there, at first, but less intense, melting away as my body got hotter, got needier.

  "Ly, please," I whimpered, hands going around him, hips moving in small circles.

  His head lifted, red eyes on me, reading my face. "Yeah?" he asked, voice a growl.

  My walls tightened around him, making him curse.

  "Yes," I agreed, nearly mindless with the need for release, somehow knowing it would feel different like this, with him creating this delicious fullness.

  He was slow at first, careful, sweet, barely rocking inside me, even as his body seemed to get tighter, more desperate for release.

  "I have to," he told me, confusing me for a second before I felt him starting to thrust harder, faster.

  "Yes," I whimpered into his ear, fingernails digging into his back as my feet planted, allowing me to move in circles as he kept thrusting.

  He balanced his weight on one hand, reaching back to grab my wrist, drawing my hand between our bodies, pressing my fingertips against my clit, giving me the motion, then releasing me, planting again, as I started to work myself.

  Ly pushed up slightly, looking down at me with eyes that seemed to dance with flames as he fucked me harder, faster, nearly leaving me completely each time before slamming deep, his voice coming out like animalistic growls, sounds that mingled with my uncontrolled moans and whimpers as my surged higher once more, as I started to tighten around him.

  "Fuck. Come, Lenore," he demanded, his body rigid, begging for release. "Come," he demanded again as he thrust forward while my finger instinctively pressed down, creating a pressure that made the orgasm soar through me, my walls contracting around his thickness, creating that sensation I knew would come, but couldn't have known how overwhelming it would feel as the waves kept crashing through me, around him.

  On the tail-end of my orgasm, he slammed forward, harder than before, deeper, claiming every bit of me as he let out a growl as his body jolted.

  As he came, those wings I had been wondering about burst out from his flesh, spreading wide behind him.

  Darkly beautiful.

  Magnificent.

  "Fuck," he hissed, his weight crashing down on me, crushing me, as he gasped for breath, trying to get some control back over his body. His heartbeat pounded in rhythm with mine, his too-hot body feverish, warming me even as the sweat dried, cooling me.

  After a long moment, he shifted slightly, rolling me onto my side against him, his wings closing around me like an embrace, cocooning me in his warmth, tickling over my skin for a moment before they settled.

  I had never felt warmer, safer, or more protected from the world.

  Or happier.

  God, the happiness felt like I had swallowed the sun, like it was bursting out of my fingertips.

  There was soreness too—a tenderness between my thighs, an ache in my thigh muscles, but they only seemed to add to the moment as this man's arms held me tight, as his lips pressed into the top of my head.

  "I want your wings like this always," I told him, lips brushing his chest as I spoke.

  "Good," he agreed, voice still rough. "Because I can't seem to force them back," he admitted.

  "Is that normal?"

  "No," he said with a snort. "It's not good either. I can't exactly walk around the human world with demonic wings out."

  "It'll be okay," I assured him, my fingers trailing over some of his scars, memorizing them. "Wait..." I said, pulling back slightly to look up at his face. No horns, like I suspected. "Your fingers are normal," I observed, feeling them tease up and down my spine. "And your horns went back in. Let me see your tongue," I demanded, getting a small chuckle out of him before he stuck it out at me, letting me see the fork had disappeared. "I don't understand," I admitted. If the talons, horns, and tongue were normal again, and his body heat went back from hellfire to a mild fever, it didn't make sense that his wings were still out in all their glory.

  "I don't either," he admitted, shrugging. "Even when I get the Change, the wings are the last to come out," he explained. "It might just take longer for them to go back."

  "Well, good," I decided, reaching out tentatively. "May I?" I asked, pausing before touching them.

  "You can touch me anywhere you want, babe," he
told me, making my belly wobble.

  "Does it hurt?" I asked when my fingers brushed his wing, finding it unlike a bird's, but more like a bat's—smooth, velvety. He'd flinched at the contact, his brows drawing together.

  "No," he said, shaking his head.

  "You're sure?" I pressed. "You're flinching," I told him as my fingers drifted over the wing, unable to get enough of the feel of them.

  "It's nothing. It feels... good," he admitted, sounding confused.

  "Does it not normally feel good?" I asked, flattening my hand against the softness.

  "It usually burns. Me and whoever touches them."

  "Really?" I asked, watching his face, looking for any dishonesty, but I found none. If anything, I saw the confusion that I felt as well as some sort of vulnerability that he seemed to save for me.

  "Yeah."

  "Does this... I don't know... mean something?" I asked.

  "Fuck if I know," he admitted, taking a breath so deep it shook his chest.

  "We'll figure it out," I told him, tracing over the thick ligament-like webbing that held his wings out.

  "Yeah," he agreed, his hands moving over me again like he couldn't get enough of touching me. I understood that feeling well. "You alright?"

  "Amazing," I countered.

  "I hurt you."

  "You made it better," I told him, like I knew he would.

  "It'll get better."

  "I don't know if that is possible," I told him, getting a seeing look flood his eyes as his lips twitched.

  "Sounds like a challenge to me."

  "I mean... I wouldn't object to being a part of that."

  "Good. Because I am going to fuck you up and down that house every chance I get," he told me, making a little shiver of anticipation move through me.

  "Sounds like a great way to spend the rest of my life," I agreed. "Thank you for this," I told him. "This was nice of you. With the blankets and the creek. It's lovely. Reminds me of home."

  "Are you hungry?" he asked, making me realize I'd completely forgotten about the picnic basket.

  "Yes."

  So then we sat up, me wincing just a bit at the tenderness I felt, but he seemed to sense it without even looking at me, his wings moving out to stroke over my back almost like fingertips, comforting me.

  Ly turned me and pulled me back against his chest, both of us facing the creek as we picked at the food selection.

  I giggled when his wings went around me again.

  "That's kind of possessive," I decided.

  "Babe, I'm not doing that," he told me.

  "What do you mean you're not doing it? They're attached to you. That would be like saying your fingers aren't touching my breast right now," I told him as his thumb moved up and down around the side of my breast.

  He let out a small chuckle at that, his hand sliding out to squeeze the swell hard before moving down to anchor across my stomach instead.

  "I don't know. I don't fucking get it either. But I am not telling my wings to keep touching you or going around you. They are just doing it."

  "Do you have any like... demon texts or anything?" I asked. "To reference."

  "If demon texts exist, I doubt they do on the human plane."

  "We can look."

  "Sure," he agreed.

  "It would be good to know more about it. Especially if it keeps happening."

  As the minutes passed to a few hours, his wings eventually retreated, leaving me naked and cold, despite having him behind me, body always cozy warm.

  "We should head back," he murmured against my hair.

  I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, taking one more moment to memorize everything about this. "Okay," I agreed, untangling from him, taking the clothes as he passed them to me.

  "Leave it," he demanded when I bent to grab the basket. "I will come back for all of this later. "Let's go get you a bath," he added, tempting me with something he knew would make me happy to get back to the house.

  His arm went around my shoulders, hauling me into his side, which made walking awkward, but I didn't want to pull away.

  We both did so, though, instinctively, a few yards before the edge of the tree line, knowing we couldn't be caught.

  Making our way in the house, we intended to walk past the group in the living room to go up the stairs for my bath, but Ace called to Ly, making us both deflate a bit as we turned.

  "You," Ace said, pointing toward me.

  It wasn't an overly aggressive gesture.

  But something in Lycus responded to it, his wings bursting outward, one wrapping around me, pulling me closer to his body.

  "Oh, for fuck's sake," Ace said, eyes widening, lips parting. "You can't be fucking serious, Ly," he added.

  "What the hell is going on?" Drex asked, swirling his whiskey, but his body had gone tense.

  "You fucking idiot," Ace raged, gaze on Ly, tone accusing.

  "Ace, babe," Red said, perfectly arched brow raising, "you gonna let us in one what is going on?"

  "This fucking idiot Claimed the witch."

  "Claimed," Red repeated, brows furrowing, seeming to have no idea what that meant.

  My gaze moved around the room, seeing confused looks on all the other's faces, uncertainty in everyone except Ace—and as the eldest demon, that made sense—and, of all people Minos. And if I wasn't mistaken, there seemed to be pain in his eyes as well. Almost as if he knew what Claiming was, and had experienced it. And possibly lost it.

  "Yes, Claimed, Red," Ace said. "Am I the only one who paid attention to our history?"

  "Apparently," Aram agreed. "The fuck is Ly going all batty for?"

  "He fucked the witch," Seven guessed.

  "It's more than that," Ace said, shaking his head. "They're bonded now. Even in human form, the demon part of him will protect her at all costs. Right down to his own life."

  "Oh, fuck," Drex said, sighing.

  "Yeah," Ace agreed.

  "How will we use the witch now?" Drex asked.

  "Exactly," Ace agreed.

  Beside me, nestled close because his wing insisted upon it, Lycus was stony silent. And just... stony. His whole body was rigid.

  I couldn't tell how he was feeling about this whole situation. Was he a willing participant, in a cognitive, aware way, or was this some primal instinct he had no choice but to follow through with?

  Did he want this?

  Did he want me?

  An undeniable ache started across my chest, spread upward, closing around my throat, snaking up the backs of my eyes where tears formed.

  Around me, his wing tightened, as if sensing my turmoil, responding to it, wanting to ease it. And as sweet as that was, I wanted to know if he wanted that.

  "Witch," Ace started.

  "Lenore," Lycus corrected, tone rough.

  "Fine," Ace sighed. "Lenore. Why don't you go up and take a bath?" he suggested. "I can smell Ly all over you," he added. "Ly and the rest of us need to have a talk."

  "Ly?" I whispered, worried. About him. About what might happen if he was alone with them.

  "It's okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "Go take your bath. I will come up in a bit," he assured me, his wing dropping, allowing me to move away.

  I kept my gaze on the gathered demons as I made my way up the stairs.

  Well, all but Ly.

  Who wasn't looking at me.

  My stomach tensed, but I made myself keep walking.

  Up the stairs, into his room, into the bathroom where I drew the water, put in some lavender-scented soap Ly had brought me, then stripped and climbed in.

  I went ahead and stressed from there, listening to raised, angry voices, wondering what was being said, what was being done, how Ly and I would fare through this new development.

  I had just finished re-running the water when I heard footsteps on the stairs, down the hall, through the bedroom.

  I opened my eyes to find Ly standing there in the doorway, looking ragged, tired.

  Seeing me, his
nostrils flared slightly, his eyes going redder, his wings moving out.

  "We need to talk."

  "About?" I asked, feeling my belly tense.

  "About what happens next."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lycus

  Ace spewed facts at the lot of us for the next twenty minutes, things that we must have learned at some point, but when life was immortal, things got shaken from the brain, replaced with more pertinent information.

  Demons were capable of Claiming a mate.

  It wasn't something that happened often. In fact, Ace—who had been around for much longer than any of us—had only heard of it happening a handful of times.

  His gaze had slid to Minos while he spoke. And Minos's gaze was downcast, guarded.

  "I think it happens here more often," Ace mused. "Back home, we are busier. We have missions. There isn't time. But when we come up here, when we are stuck here as long as we have been stuck here, when the mind gets idle, and defenses get low, that is how it can happen."

  "And when it happens?"

  "When it happens, it happens. There is no undoing it."

  "Except?" I asked, jerking my chin toward Minos, suddenly understanding his withdrawn, miserable nature, why he so infrequently came out anymore, why he always seemed to be hurting over something.

  How had I missed him Claiming someone?

  And who had it been?

  Where was she now?

  "Except if she rejects you," Ace said. "You still Claim them. If you are near them, your nature responds, you protect them. But if she rejects you, it creates a deep cavern inside that never gets filled again."

  Shit.

  I felt like a terrible friend to Minos suddenly.

  "It doesn't seem like she is rejecting him," Aram said.

  "She looks up at him with puppy-dog eyes," Red agreed.

  "The question comes back to how we use the witch if Ly here goes all homicidal if anyone even looks at the witch—Lenore‚" Drex said when a rumble moved through me, my talons poking out from my fingertips.

  Ace sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

  "I guess we ask her to do it," Ace mused.

  "Ask her? You'd think she'd be willing to do that?" Red asked, scoffing.