by LJ Swallow
Dex kisses my face, moving gradually to my mouth until he runs his tongue gently across my lips. The heat rushing through my blood is intensified as he presses his hard body against mine. I wince as my sore back hits the door and my trembling legs already start to give. He’s right. A part of me is Dex’s, and that part wishes he still had a towel around his waist. An easily removable one.
His lips harden as I press mine back again, eager, wanting, falling into him. He slips his tongue into my mouth and pulls me to him in an embrace that crushes me so I can't breathe.
He can’t miss how I’m shaking with the overwhelming physical effect he has—pulsing with desire from one kiss. Shifting to grip his curls, I push my tongue into Dex’s mouth and return his enthusiasm.
Dex’s lips move from soft to firm. He grips my hair, tugs my head back, and delves his tongue deeper into my mouth. I snatch my chance to explore the defined muscles of his chest, running a hand along from his pecs to his abs before digging nails into his back to stop myself exploring any further.
Dex pushes me harder against the door and his arousal is unmissable. I ache where he presses against me, and his lust threatens to consume the last part of awareness of what’s outside this room.
He pushes at my shirt until his skin touches mine, and the unexpected softness from this rough guy seduces me further. I shiver as he runs a rough thumb across my stomach, and I'm an ounce of self-control from shoving my hand into his pants. I'm disappointed when his hand remains still.
My lips smart when Dex pulls away, face scraped by his scruff, and I rest my head on the door and look upwards as my heart hammers. The Hound’s eyes look back at me, silent, calculating, and for a heartbeat, I doubt I'm doing the right thing. Dex rubs his lips together, the orange-rimmed irises flaming again. "I said I have self-control, but not when I'm midway between him and me."
Until Dex moves, I'm not calming down anytime soon.—especially if he looks at me like this. "I don't care. I like this Dex."
"Don't say that." He sucks in a breath and stands back.
I rest my head against the door and struggle to calm myself with deep breaths, but my body won't settle while he's close. "Kiss me again."
I gasp out as Dex winds his fingers around my hair and tugs my head backwards. His mouth hits mine, and his tongue pushes into my mouth, the grip on my hair tightening and the held-back frustration pouring into me. His other arm coils around my waist, and his huge muscles wrap me in an iron grip. He moves to shove his hands beneath my shirt, rough and possessive as his hips push against mine and the bruising kisses continue.
Pinning me harder, he slides his hands upwards and palms my breasts. I arch towards him, and Dex's thumbs swipe across my nipple, straining against the lace bra and the sensation tears through my body, triggering an aching need for more.
Dex pulls his face away and rests his forehead on mine, but his hands stay on my skin. Our ragged breaths mingle, and I move my face in an attempt to meet his lips again. I shiver as his fingers run back down my sides. Still breathing heavily, he unbuttons my shirt teasingly slow and pushes the material from my shoulders. I tip my head back as his mouth moves to my throat, and he nips at my neck and shoulders as he unhooks my bra.
In a sudden movement, Dex's hands are beneath my ass as he lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his hips, gripping his shoulders. His mouth is immediately on my breasts, teasing and sucking my nipples, his fingers now moving down my stomach. The ache intensifies, and I tremble as I wait for his next move.
I gasp out as he tugs me from the wall and roughly turns me around. My cheek presses against the cool, and his hot mouth kisses and nips my neck. I place my hands on either side of my head as he unzips my jeans. My legs almost buckle as he shoves a hand into my jeans and panties, sucking in a breath as he moves his hand to touch my slick heat. I moan as he roughly pushes fingers inside me, working me hard and fast as he pants against my ear. There's a sharp pain as he grabs my hair and tugs my head backwards.
"I can scent how much you want my cock, and I want to fuck you." His blazing eyes send a fluttering across my chest. I'm in this guy's power, and instead of wanting to fight him, I want more. He's almost brutal in his movements, eyes fixed on mine. "But first," he growls. "I want to see you come, Syv. I want to feel your wet pussy clench around my fingers."
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
Maybe he's allowed a little alpha because this is blowing my mind. His grip on my hair tightens as his eyes glow with a lustful intensity that soaks up every noise I make, each moan and whimper. The ache from Dex fucking me with his fingers grows, and the movement against my clit becomes too much as an orgasm hits me.
I cry out, and Dex's mouth closes around mine to muffle the sound. I whimper as the movement stops, and he pulls his hand away and sink forward with my head against the wall as he steps back, legs like jelly.
Instead of feeling his hard cock against me as I expected, I hear a rustle. Confused, I turn around. Dex is shrugging on his shirt, and I watch, heart slowing, as he buttons it with shaking fingers.
"Next time—" he begins, then stops himself.
"What the hell, Dex," I breathe out and button my jeans. "'Next time', what?"
Dex steps forward and holds my neck to tip my face upwards, and the fire in his ember eyes frightens me. "Next time, I will fuck you until you scream, but not now and not here."
I swallow, aware it's pointless and impractical to ask him if that could be right now, please.
Dex smoothes my hair and kisses my lips gently. I blink back, body alight as I struggle to breathe. What the hell was that? And what would've happened if I hadn't been standing in Col's bathroom with two other men waiting downstairs?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I halt outside the kitchen door and listen. Silence. Did everybody leave? I push the door open and peek in. Morgan and Cillian are sitting at opposite ends of the table. Col stands nearby, back to them, and gazes through the window.
Col turns and takes a long, slow look at Dex. The fae rubs his chin and remains silent. Dex returns his gaze and doesn't speak as the uncomfortable atmosphere grows.
"Is Spot better now?" asks Col.
Dex, beside me, makes a low sound. I have my arms crossed and sneakily poke him in the waist before he says anything.
"I patched him up," I say with a smile.
"It would seem so." Col chuckles. "I sense you're closer than you were."
I glance at Cillian, who watches us with curious interest, and Morgan yawns.
"Your friends aren't very forthcoming about who they are or what happened.” Col crosses his arms. "I think we need to have a conversation before you leave. I want these men to explain everything they know."
Dex pulls out a chair by the table and I wait for him to sit. Instead, he gestures at the seat. I'm about to inspect the chair to see what's wrong with it when I realise he's pulled the seat out for me.
"Uh. Thanks." I sit and Dex nods before taking the chair besides me, behaving as if nothing happened between us.
Col turns away and pulls out five glasses and a bottle from a cupboard. "Who would like a drink?"
"What's in it?" asks Morgan sharply.
"Fae wine," I say. "More like liquor if you ask me—potent but good. You know you don't need to ask me, Col."
He gives a small shake of his head and pours me a glass.
I drink half in one go.
Col tops the other glasses and then sits. "Since I saw you earlier, I’ve been considering this situation. I'm not happy with you, Syv."
I jerk my head up. "Me? What did I do?"
He gestures at my arm. "Why didn't you come to me when this happened?"
"You were away. Plus, I don't tell you every time I have shit to deal with."
He runs his tongue along his teeth. "This is more than ‘shit to deal with'. You're dying."
My eyes water as I hastily swallow the new mouthful of fae wine. "I didn’t think you could help."
"This isn't magic
related to fae," puts in Cillian. "You probably can’t help."
He raises his chin and looks down his nose at Cillian. "I have an extensive library and a large collection of artefacts. Lists of contacts. Syv knows this."
"I've never heard you mention nephilim," I reply. "You were in the dark about angels too, before their big reveal last year."
"Yes, and I possessed a book about an apocalypse which I never knew about. Remember?" His mouth tightens. "Didn't you think to come to me and ask for information?"
I look down and pick at the edge of my hoodie, annoyed he's making me feel like a scolded child. "You didn't want to see me," I mutter.
"Because we had a disagreement?" He shakes his head. "Conflict isn't cured by ignoring people, Syv. You were prepared to let your pride come between you and possible information?"
"Okay, but I panicked. I don't know how long I had before..." I curl my fingers around my arm. "And, like I said, you were away."
"You have a key to my house."
"You don't let me touch your shit—otherwise you lose yours."
He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. "Once. I lost my temper once. But this situation is different."
"They've helped me, and the Horsemen tried too." I wave my hand at my companions. "And can you speak and back me up, please, guys? It’s not like you to keep quiet, Morgan."
Morgan takes one of the glasses and studies the contents. "I'm not arguing with him. If I pissed off this guy, he'd take me down in seconds."
Cillian sits, hands folded on the table in front, saying nothing.
"Earlier tonight, a drunk and distressed Syv sat in my lounge. In pain. You caused that, yet she still trusts you. How can I?"
I shift uncomfortably. "Col. Who I trust or not isn't your decision."
"Yes. It is, when you're dying."
"Will you stop saying that word?" I snap. "Perhaps use the word ‘unwell’."
"And why?" Col says, directly to Cillian. "Why would you offer to help Syv? What's your motive?"
"She knows our motive. This is a business deal. Syv has agreed to find something for us," replies Morgan. "Something we need her skills for."
"What?" bats back Col. "What item could a group of Dwellers possibly want from this world unless it's for ill intent?"
"The same item someone else asked Syv to find, " says Morgan in a low voice. "Something as important to us as to the person who tried to take it."
"The person we think cursed Syv," adds Cillian.
"Fuck, Syv!" I recoil in my chair at Col’s words. The Collector, with his arrogant aloofness doesn't usually swear—I've heard him once before. "Don't you learn? You need to be careful. Look what happened to your friend, Taron. Someone double-crossed him because he was greedy—and it cost him his life. Now look at you."
"I’ve spent years working alone," I retort.
"The world is different now. Dangerous. Until six months ago, most in the various supernatural societies knew who to trust and who not to. Those days are gone." A muscle twitches in his cheek as he regards my friends. "Dwellers changed that."
Beside me, Dex's breathing comes faster. My heart speeds and I close my hand over Dex’s leg. "Calm down," I whisper.
"Some Dwellers. And others want to help." Cillian’s voice rises too.
"Okay. Help then. Tell me—what is this item you’re looking for?" Col's tone remains terse.
I chew my lip and look at Morgan. "A box," I say, and his eyes widen.
"Containing?" Again, I wait. Morgan refuses to elaborate. "How can I help if you won’t tell me, Dwellers?"
"How can we tell you if you don’t trust us? You won’t even tell us you real name," retorts Morgan.
"Nobody knows my name. Even Syv." Col taps his fingers on the table and remains sitting straight and stiff. Distrusting. "Syv, who asked you to find the box?"
"Malvorn."
"Oh? Interesting." He raps his fingers again.
"Why?" asks Morgan. He sits forward. "What do you know?"
"I don't socialise much, as Syv can tell you. But I am in contact with others who, like me, collect items. I’ve heard his name."
"And you work with him?"
The Collector curls his lip. "No. I do not. I know of him. I know of a network where items are occasionally traded. If something new comes on the scene, me and others who like to acquire things often hear first. Mostly, I pay little attention unless something fae is unearthed."
"Go on," says Cillian and leans forward, elbows on the table.
"Recently, there have been more items spoken about. From Dwellers, I imagine. Malvorn collects items for a different reason to me—he finds them to sell, as Syv knows."
"So, wait," puts in Cillian. "This guy employs Syv to find things and then he sells them on some kind of supernatural black market?"
"Malvorn is human," I say. "He's not affiliated with anybody. He's just a greedy, selfish bugger."
"Who pays you to do his dirty work?" asks Morgan.
"Yeah, I have no morals." We glower at each other. "I don't trade in dangerous shit, because I might get hurt in the process. I know what this guy does but wasn't aware he had a network—or that you were involved, Col," I add tersely.
"And your 'network' spread news about this item?" Morgan asks Col. "How can you trust somebody who placed a curse on your girlfriend?"
I pull a face at the word girlfriend. Col snorts a soft laugh but doesn't respond to that part. "I think we established that Malvorn didn't curse Syv. He’s incapable. He’s human."
"But he tipped somebody off that she was looking for the box. That ‘someone’ sent those guys after her that night."
"If that’s true, tell me, Cillian. Who tipped you off?"
"What are you accusing us of?" growls Dex.
"We were tracking the box too," retorts Morgan. "We already told you. We didn’t know Syv would be there—just that it’s where the item was hidden."
The Collector gestures in the air. "Then I don’t know what to say to you. Tell me the name of this box and what it contains, and I will make enquiries."
"The box is one of several we’re aware of. They’re called Sunde boxes," says Morgan. "They contain powerful magic."
"Powerful magic such as what?"
Cillian chews on his lip as he watches Morgan, and Dex crosses his arms. I keep my mouth shut about Morgan’s brother. I can’t betray him.
"Fine. Don’t tell me but I will find out what this box is and how it connects to Syv. Somebody wants to hurt her. That won’t happen."
I rest my elbow on the table as I listen, hand supporting my head. As they talk, the day catches up and washes over me. Dawn light spreads across the sky and my aching head pounds. I’m at my limit for today. I close my eyes and their voices become distant as if I’m in a dream. My elbow slips and I jerk my head up.
"Syv?" Dex takes my hand. "What’s wrong?"
"She’s exhausted and falling asleep," retorts Col.
Cillian ducks his head down to meet my eyes. "Will you come back to the Institute with us? We can discuss everything in the morning, including what happened at the warlock’s house. No more secrets."
"Yes. I need to know more about this,” says Col. "Who is this warlock? And what happened to you all this evening?"
I cover my head. Oh crap, please not more questions about the Dana situation. I can barely think straight, let alone analyse my bizarre meeting with the man who knew my name. I’ve not told the guys much yet but tomorrow they need to know everything.
"I’m too tired to talk about shit right now.” I look up at the group. “Sorry. I need to get my head around what happened at Dana’s and we can figure out what to do next. But… tomorrow, please."
Most of all, I don’t want to confront the death mark issue. The whole situation confuses me. Not only the ‘is there a cure?’ issue but also that it may kill everybody but one person. Probably me. Why me?
"Stay here, Syv," says Col sharply and snaps me out of my half-asleep
thoughts.
What do I do? Am I safer with Col? But these men’s skills help with my hunt for a cure. If I don't go with them, they may move on to try and locate this item themselves.
Then no cure for me—unless the man at the shop lied and there really is something out there that can help.
"I think I'll go with them," I say. "We have more to talk about."
"We can bring Syv back tomorrow, to prove she's safe. Maybe you could look through your books and contacts?" suggest Cillian. "We’ll think about whether to let you work with us."
Oh crap. Cillian doesn’t understand who Col is, or how powerful. Nobody really knows what he’s capable of, but people steer clear. They don’t upset the Collector. I tense, waiting for an explosion.
Instead, Col sighs and shakes his head. "Sometimes, I forget how insane you are, Syv. You barely know these people, and one of them is a shifter. You worry me."
His concern bolsters me. "Then they'll know not to piss off an immortal fae. Your magic may not be the same, but I bet you can do the guys some damage."
"This is true." He addresses the trio. "Perhaps listen to what Syv tells you about me."
"Oh, she's difficult to ignore," Morgan replies.
"Have you ever tried telling her no?" asks Cillian with a half-laugh.
Col gestures at me. "Then Syv should tell you to stay. All of you."
I stand and stretch. Every muscle in my body aches and my head pounds in pain and confusion. "I’ll take my usual room, should I?"
The men share a smile. I watch the strange group around me. Maybe they could work together after all.
Maybe we all can.
Because it looks as though we’ll need to.
To be continued
The Demon’s Fae series continues with Elements of Magic and Shades of Magic. These will complete the series.
You can preorder the books here:
Elements of Magic
Shades of Magic
Have you read The Four Horsemen books?