Shadow World

by Gaja J. Kos

  With a sharp inhale, I funneled everything I had into my shield. There were no guarantees this would work, but I had to hope the excess power would hold them off for that single heartbeat that would mean the difference between my life and death.

  As the blue fire reached its full potential, I yanked on the umbilical cord and willed it to whisk me away.

  Pain lanced through my atoms, but once I landed on all fours, corporeal once again, I was alone, with nothing but the familiar rough-hewn walls of my lair erected around me. Tears blurred my eyes and streamed down my cheeks, only I didn’t allow myself to give in just yet. With the final sputter of strength I had left, I reached for the cord again, and fed it the single destination I knew could deliver safety.

  This time, I didn’t even bother to soften my fall when I regained my form. I landed with a thump on my side, then rolled onto my aching back, staring at the streaks of sunlight illuminating the ceiling. Wards hummed around me, a gentle sound that I would have missed if it weren’t for the utter silence of the room.

  I wanted the magic to pass on the warning. Counted on it, actually.

  After all, I was in no shape to move from my spot, let alone expand any energy to seek him out. And with the darkness creeping across the edges of my vision, there were no promises on just how long I would remain conscious.

  Energy tingled the air. I blinked, and when the office snapped into place once more, I found a pair of mismatched eyes staring down at me.

  Concern hardened Breccan’s features as he took in my battered state. My guess would be that I must have looked about as awful as I felt. The wound on my hip gave off the unnerving impression that most of it had been burned away, my spine only a little better off.

  If that were the case, I was utterly pissed.

  And broken.

  Breccan knelt beside me and carefully lifted me into his arms. He made sure not to touch the parts that hurt the worst, though his touch—the applied pressure I would have craved for had the circumstances been different—still sent me snarling.

  “I have you, Crina,” he whispered, magic following on the wings of his words. “I have you.”

  When I came to in a foreign bed after gods knew how much time, my body was tingling. Not unpleasantly, though the sensation was definitely odd until it hit me just what it was.

  A healing ward.

  Breccan had ensconced every inch of my skin in power as if he’d wrapped me in foil. I shifted to check on my injuries—or tried to, at least.

  The barrier kept me in place, its vines hooked so deeply inside me I knew it was futile to struggle.

  “I didn’t want to heal you myself without permission.” His voice rang out, smooth and comforting. But also laced with relief.

  The magic around me loosened just enough for me to turn my head and take in the demon lord. He was leaning against a light blue wall, closer than I’d thought, arms crossed and a tight expression on his face—one that softened as I smiled.

  “Afraid to get handsy with an assassin?” I half croaked, half drawled.

  “Let’s just say I’d prefer to keep my hands.” His mouth twitched. “After all, you have yet to experience what these fingers can do.”

  I laughed, then swore as agony spread through my chest. Breccan was by my side before I as much as noticed him move.

  “Your ribs need some time to mend. I can hasten the process if you wish.”

  Not trusting my voice, I nodded.

  Someone must have peeled off my clothing because when Breccan reached under the cotton sheet, his hands connected with bare skin. I shivered as his fingers explored my rib cage, then gasped when his power pushed into me. The current traveled through flesh, sweeping away the pain and sealing my broken bones with faultless grace.

  I had known Breccan was powerful—he hadn’t held the demon lord mantle throughout the ages for nothing—but I was stunned into silence by just how deep his well was nonetheless.

  His hands traveled lower, taking away the hurt as if it had never been there at all. The consolation I felt at his touch turned into something different. As his fingers brushed against my thighs, I arched my back and spread my legs wider apart. Breccan’s warmth danced across my skin, down to my knees, then back up again.

  Only this time, it was a caress, not the brush of healing that he had bestowed upon me.

  He braced one hand on the bed, dipping the mattress, while the other stopped on my inner thigh. “Are you certain you want this? I would have helped you either way.”

  I slid down the bed until his fingers, lingering between my legs, were just a touch away from where I needed them. “I want this, Breccan. You know I do.”

  His features became harsher, cut from desire and dominance he attempted to keep under control but filled the air all the same. But he was still hesitating.

  What magic had been left holding me in place dispelled as I moved my hand to cover his, then slowly, with enough time for him to decide, guided his fingers up.

  He sucked in breath when his skin met my molten arousal, but he didn’t pull back. And I didn’t let him go.

  “Please, Breccan,” I whispered and sought out his mismatched eyes.

  Then moaned when those elegant fingers delivered the first stroke of what I craved.

  Chapter 20

  I wasn’t a devout person, but right then and there, I was willing to worship the fuck out of Breccan.

  I’d never experienced anything like his touch. Pleasure undulated in tune with my magic, coupled with the delicious pressure that spread through me in a godsdamned tidal wave. I locked my gaze on his, those eyes—one a piercing blue, the other a breathtaking silver—staring back as if he’d seen me for the first time.

  And liked what he saw.

  It was more than I could take.

  I writhed and lifted my hips to grant him better access, but Breccan had something else in mind. He ripped the sheet off my body, then moved to the foot of the king-sized bed. After a lingering sweep of my nude form, he wrapped his hands around my ankles. He yanked me to him.

  A husky laugh rose in my chest as Breccan spread my legs wide to accommodate his form and nestled himself between them. His gaze dropped to my core.

  Appreciation, then hunger, sculpted his features.

  Fuck, that was a good look on him.

  It was all I could do to hold back a groan.

  I was still consumed by my own ogling when Breccan brought his mouth down. His breath brushed against me in a teasing caress, but just as I readied myself for the feel of his lips, Breccan glanced up.

  “Any preferences?”

  “You,” I whispered, not caring how lame that must have sounded. It was the truth. “Just you.”

  He flicked his tongue over my clit. “Even if I want you to beg?”

  Another flick.

  Motherfucker. My whole body thrashed, Breccan’s demanding gaze just as big of a turn on as the touch of his tongue.

  The demon was pure poison. Beautiful, lethal poison. And I wanted to drink in every last drop.

  I told him as much.

  Breccan’s laugh reverberated through me.

  “That can certainly be arranged.” He rose for long enough to lose his shirt. Then his pants.

  If I said I didn’t gawk when his hard length sprang out, I’d be a terrible, terrible liar. Just the sight of his cock made me writhe in anticipation.

  “Though I warn you,” he went on and stroked himself. Slowly. “I want to feel how it is to come inside you, too.”

  His voice was a velvet promise that tightened my nipples. I fought the impulse to press my thighs together as I braced myself on my palms and pushed up.

  “Warning heeded.” I smiled, then raked my gaze down his magnificent body before my gaze landed on his mismatched one. “Top or bottom?”

  Breccan’s grin was wild and sharp at the same time, and did things to me no mere expression was allowed to.

  “Top. Although for this”—he crawled onto the bed and gr
abbed my hips—“I want you to sit on my fucking face.”

  Without giving me a chance to respond, Breccan pivoted me around until my legs were on either side of his head, his hold on my hips bruising and utterly mind-blowing. As was his cock, close enough to my lips it would be no effort at all to taste him.

  For a second or two, we stayed like that while I tried to come to terms with the fact that a demon lord had just maneuvered me into a sixty-nine. But as his tongue caressed my folds, every thought in my head bowed under the urge to take him into my mouth.

  Bracing myself on one hand, I wrapped the fingers of the other around his base and let my lips encircle the thick crown. Breccan’s groan vibrated through my core, a hint of teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

  Pure. Fucking. Poison.

  A rush of heat unspooled within me. I guided my lips down his shaft. When they met my own hand—as far as I could go given his size—I languidly moved back up again, savoring the feel of him. That firm twitch I’d coaxed from him. The throb that made him thicker.

  Before I could reach the tip, Breccan plunged his tongue inside me.

  It was my turn to moan.

  His cock pulsed in my mouth, our respective energies flaring. I sped up my rhythm, not giving a fuck about finesse, just the presence of him between my lips, the way he responded as I increased the pressure at his base, then started to stroke him.

  Gods, he felt divine.

  Just sucking him nearly threw me over the edge, but with his mouth devouring me, licking away my arousal and teasing my clit, I didn’t stand a chance. My entire body shook as my orgasm built.

  Breccan sensed me.

  Assaulted me with his teeth and tongue as he brought me closer and closer.

  But there was something more I wanted. Something more I wanted him to have.

  Just when his cock became impossibly hard, I slipped away my hand and took him whole.

  Motherfucker.

  The world around me shattered.

  Breccan drank in my climax just as he spilled his down my throat.

  I grabbed onto him, swallowing every last drop as he rode the little waves of aftershocks that had me in their hold. Only then did I slowly release his cock from my mouth, pausing at the head to give it a twirl that had him growling.

  Breccan flipped me on my back with impossible speed. His body towered over mine, mouth glistening with the evidence of my orgasm.

  I reached up and traced my tongue across his lips.

  His fingers wrapped around my throat, gaze wild as I continued, kissing and caressing his face until I could taste us both on my tongue.

  “You…”

  Whatever he wanted to say was lost as he brought his mouth to mine and stole our flavor away. My nails sank into his shoulders, his back, Breccan’s cock hard and ready between my thighs. Shit, demons had a healthy appetite—I knew that, lived it. But the way I wanted Breccan went beyond even the strongest desire.

  Our energies interlaced, and with a start, I realized it wasn’t just the ethereal presence, but actual demon fire enveloping us. My blue danced with his silver-white, not burning or harming. But playing.

  A carnal smile cupped Breccan’s lips as he looked down at me, his muscular torso on full display. He ran his fingers down the thick length of his shaft. Then again. And again.

  I burned to touch him. Burned to feel him. But he kept the distance between us solid, offering only a teasing visual as he pleasured himself to the sight of me.

  “Do you want this, Crina?” He stroked himself with those fuckable fingers. “You want me to thrust inside you? Make you scream?”

  Shit. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted me to beg.

  And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to.

  “Yes, audhos. Please.”

  The ancient word for “sir” slipped from my mouth of its own volition. I hadn’t spoken the tongue in more than a decade, but something about Breccan’s presence connected me to my demonic roots.

  Surprise touched his face, but quickly morphed into a dark, beautiful hunger. “Very well, amāyō.”

  He thrust inside me before I could process that he’d called me “love.”

  I cried out, holding on to his powerful arms as he pumped his hips. Relentless. Demanding. Claiming me with such ferocity my orgasm rolled into another. Then another.

  My muscles clenched around his shaft, urging him to come with me as our demon fire suffused the air, lethal yet not destructive. Breccan groaned and raised himself, holding my hips captive to ease our rhythm. A frustrated moan flew from my lips.

  He chuckled, though there was a decidedly rough, ravished edge to it. With torturously slow thrusts, he slid in and out of me, his gaze moving from my breasts, to my face, then down to the seam where our bodies met. He grew thicker, pushing against my walls until I quivered.

  A flicker of defiance stirred to life as he administrated his torment. I let him control me, but asked, “Enjoy the sight, audhos?”

  His warning took shape with a low growl.

  “Like watching your cock penetrate me?”

  He twitched inside me, his abs clenching as my words, my voice, slowly gnawed on his control. I raised myself on my elbows to change the angle, but also to allow myself a glimpse of him driving into my core.

  I licked my lips and met his gaze. “I like it, too.”

  With a snarl, Breccan buried himself to the hilt.

  Gods, yes.

  My mind and body alike were ready to unravel, but Breccan didn’t stop there.

  As he thrust his hips, filling me entirely, he pinched one of my aching nipples with one hand, while closing the fingers of the other around my throat.

  I shattered beneath him.

  Muscles convulsed as pleasure swept through me, and ensnared Breccan until he howled his release.

  Panting, he collapsed on top of me, then nestled his head in the nook between my shoulder and neck, the primal, pure savageness transforming into something softer. I wrapped my arms around him.

  Held him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Chapter 21

  There had been no hum of traffic to lull me to sleep. No cars passing below my window. But when I woke with Breccan’s body spooning mine, I realized that for once, I hadn’t needed the backdrop of urban life to fall into dreams’ dark embrace.

  And that for the very first time in my entire existence, I had done so with another person by my side.

  Even when I had dated Ilya, I never let my guard down fully. Slept with my senses open. Or not at all.

  But Breccan—I didn’t only trust him. I felt as if as long as I was with him, I was safe.

  I frowned.

  What the ever-loving fuck?

  I hardly knew the demon.

  Yes, he was powerful, but if anything, that should have made me wary, not…cuddly. This bullshit required closer inspection. Only it was hard, so, so hard to dissect the subject when Breccan’s arm was wrapped around me, pressing me to his chest. When all I wanted was to curl up even closer.

  So I did.

  Our bodies fit together seamlessly, and as Breccan’s erection pressed against my ass, I couldn’t help but smile into the pillow. Lazily, he caressed my breasts, then, when I arched my back, dipped his hand lower. His chuckle danced down the nape of my neck.

  “I haven’t woken like this in ages,” he muttered and circled my clit with his finger.

  Too caught up in him to reply, I merely let out an intelligible moan and urged him on. Another chuckle teased my skin the second before he obliged, slipping two fingers inside me as he rubbed his cock against my ass.

  “You respond to me so beautifully,” he whispered.

  My power flared at his words, but stayed confined within my skin. I didn’t want a flashy display, as fun as that had been last night. I just wanted Breccan.

  Without giving him a chance to torment me further, I twisted around and rolled on top of him. The cotton sheet flew to the ground. I straddled
Breccan’s gloriously nude form, just a touch lower from where I truly craved to be, then ran my fingers along his hard shaft.

  The smile that captured his lips and curved the stark line of his scar made him more handsome than any being had the right to be.

  “What?” he asked, his smile spreading.

  The beginning of an answer lodged in my throat. Some things were better kept private.

  So I simply caressed his cheek with one hand, then lay my palm flat against the mattress and lifted my hips, shifting forward. Around us, the room brightened gradually in imitation of sunlight. I cherished the view of his skin, half submerged in shadow, half-lit as if from within.

  But as much as I enjoyed admiring the sight, there was something I would love more.

  Breccan shivered as I brought the tip of his cock to my wet core. Teasing, but not entering yet.

  My turn to play.

  His mouth parted, so utterly inviting I nearly succumbed and kissed the fuck out of him. Probably would have, if a hint of mischief hadn’t sparked in his mismatched eyes. I came to my senses enough to realize he was messing with me. Subtly stealing away my control bit by bit.

  I grinned and sheathed his length.

  Breccan swore—a string of curses that lengthened as I ground myself against him, then morphed into groans. Desire flared within me brighter, stronger, and I placed my hands on his carved chest to hold him in place.

  I rode him slowly, rotating my hips every time I lifted or lowered myself, over and over. My thighs started to tremble.

  Shit, he felt good. Better than good.

  I didn’t allow my mind to go down that path.

  Instead, I switched up the tempo, riding him harder, faster, feeling the delicious way he grew thicker inside me to the point when I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. His fingers dug into my hips, slamming me down his shaft as pleasure built up in my center, almost causing me to falter.

  I released the reins of my control.

  Breccan didn’t hesitate.

  He thrust in sync with my body’s descent, our gazes locked and breaths matched perfectly. The thundering rhythm overcame me whole.