by DB Reynolds
“Amata,” he whispered. Tightening his arms around her, he kissed her luscious mouth, sucking on her full lower lip, biting softly until she demanded more, tangling her fingers in his hair and crushing her chest against his as the kiss became harder, more frantic.
“Clothes,” she hissed, pulling at his shirt, sliding her smooth hands over his sides and back. “So good,” she muttered. “So fucking good.”
Kato wanted more. He wanted all of it. Ignoring her soft protests, he pushed her away just far enough for him to grip the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head. He slowed then, captivated by the sight of her full breasts wrapped in lace and silk, the warm ivory of her skin contrasting against the pale pink and white confection of her bra.
“So pretty,” he murmured, tracing one finger along the edge of the lace, feeling her shiver at his touch, feeling his cock harden at the knowledge that he could provoke that reaction from her, the knowledge that if he dipped a finger between her thighs, she’d be wet and ready for him.
“Admire the lingerie later,” she growled, going to work on his leather belt, snapping the buttons on his jeans and wrapping her fingers around his shaft.
“It wasn’t the lingerie I was admiring,” he said, smiling against the press of her lips. He pulled away with a groan when she squeezed his cock, regretting the loss of her touch, but reveling in the expanse of naked skin as he stripped off the rest of her clothes. “Shower,” he croaked, quickly shoving down his pants, laughing when he had to sit down to untie his boots, his laughter dying at the sight of Grace reaching back to unfasten her bra at last, her unfettered breasts tumbling free of their confinement, her nipples full and hard, seeming to plump and preen under his gaze.
“Grace,” he breathed, reaching for her without conscious will, knowing only that he had to touch her, that he couldn’t wait another minute, another heartbeat longer.
She came to him, her gaze soft with desire as she took his hand and led him to the huge shower that would have done the most sybaritic nobleman proud in his time. Hot jets of water sprayed from three sides, while rain fell gently from above. The enclosure was already hot with steam when he lifted her against his body and stepped inside, closing the door behind him with one hand, while the other palmed her sweet ass.
They kissed, the steam rising around them, warming his skin even as Grace warmed his heart . . . and heated his cock. He wanted to be inside her, to feel the slick glide of her sex as it gripped his length, to feel the hard pearls of her nipples scraping his chest. He caught sight of the water pooling at their feet, dark with blood and dirt.
“I’m filthy,” he grated harshly and tried to set her aside. But Grace tugged him back.
“That blood was spilled saving our lives,” she reminded him, then reached behind him and grabbed the liquid soap. She started to pour some in her hand, but then giving him a wicked look, she squirted the fruity-smelling liquid all over his chest instead.
Kato opened his mouth to promise retribution, but the words died as she rubbed the soap to a rich foam, her delicate but so strong hands massaging his chest and shoulders, his arms, his hips. . . . Raising her gaze slowly to meet his, she dropped to her knees and cleaned his legs, her mouth tantalizingly close to his erection as she worked the muscles of his calves, her capable fingers digging in, her head bent . . .
He hissed in surprised pleasure when she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his penis, her breath warm even in the heat of the shower as her tongue slipped out to taste him, to lap up the drop of pre-cum that pearled on the tip of his cock. “Grace,” he groaned, and fisted his hand in her wet hair, torn between ramming his cock down her throat and pulling her up where he could taste her mouth, taste himself on her tongue.
Grace, of course, had plans of her own. Resisting his pull on her hair, she took him fully into her mouth, gripping the base of his cock and sliding her hot, wet mouth over his straining erection, swallowing until he could feel the constriction of her throat against the head of his shaft, squeezing and releasing as she swallowed more, her throat caressing him the way her pussy would, stroking, teasing, urging him to come, to release his seed. But as delicious as her mouth was, he wanted to be inside her body.
Twisting his fingers, tightening his grip on her wet hair, he pulled her away from his cock, ignoring her hungry protest and the jolt of lust it sent spiraling through his gut. Her mouth was delicious, but he wanted her body, wanted to bury himself inside her, feel her climaxing around him as desire took over and she lost control, her body convulsing with pleasure while he pounded into her pussy.
He growled at the erotic images crafted by his own thoughts, and lifted her effortlessly, holding her against the tile wall while the hot water poured all around them, steam billowing until he could barely make out the glass enclosure. They were surrounded, isolated. There was no one but the two of them and the urgent need to come together, to join their bodies in the brutal and sublime act of fucking. Not making love; there was no seduction, no gentle coaxing. This was sex. It was raw and passionate, frenzied and sensuous . . . and he wanted it, wanted her, more than his next breath.
Her strong legs wrapped around him, her hips flexing, pressing her pussy against him, a searing brand against his bare skin. With a single thrust, he buried his full length in her slick heat. Her body throbbed, stretching around him, her heart a steady pulse against his chest, while her nails dug into his back, her every breath a small cry, a plea for release.
Digging his fingers into her ass, he pounded harder, driven by the need to make her come, to hear her screams and to hell with whoever might be listening downstairs. He wanted her to forget everyone but him, to know his body, his breath, his cock, and nothing else.
Her eyes flashed open in breathless shock. She whispered his name. “Kato.”
And then she was coming, shattering around him, her pussy clamping down, a blistering caress as she buried her teeth in his shoulder to muffle her screams. The erotic pain of her bite was too much, smashing through his self-control as he exploded inside her, his release a scalding flood to mark her inside and out as his.
KATO STIRRED, SHIFTING Grace where she lay limply over his lap. Somehow they’d ended up on the floor of the shower, clinging to each other despite the steamy heat that had started out soothing, but was now making it difficult to breathe. He reached over and shoved the glass door open to admit a welcome rush of cool air that quickly turned cold on their overheated skin.
Fuck. First it was too hot, now too cold. He would have laughed if he’d had the energy.
Grace made a soft sound of protest and snuggled closer, seeking warmth. He shivered once, reached up to turn off the water, and then grabbed a big towel from the heated bar next to the shower. Wrapping it around them both, he leaned back and closed his eyes, holding her securely against his chest.
After what seemed like a long time, during which he suspected they both might have drifted into sleep, Grace tilted her head back and kissed the underside of his jaw. He smiled slightly, a warm happiness filling his heart. The knowledge should have terrified him. He knew better than to tempt fate. But maybe it was because the last few days had been too rife with real terror to worry about such things. Or maybe it was because Grace had trusted him with her . . . maybe not love. That was too much to expect. But she cared for him and had fought next to him. It was more than he’d ever expected to find.
“We deserve a vacation.”
Kato chuckled at her sudden pronouncement. “How do you figure that?”
“Hey. We saved the fucking world, didn’t we?”
“Maybe. For now, anyway.”
“For now? Fuck that. Let someone else save it next time. We’re going to Hawaii.”
A fresh chill blew through his soul. “I don’t know where that is, but it’s better not to challenge the Fates, amata. Some wars are never truly won.”
“Well, shit. Can we at least get a good night’s sleep?”
He chuckled again. “That we can do.” B
ut even as he said it, he heard the distant sound of the Fates laughing at him. He frowned, but then realized it was only their friends from downstairs. He’d completely forgotten about them.
“Oh, right,” Grace muttered, hearing the same thing. “We have guests.”
GRACE WAS ALREADY blushing when they started down the stairs, anticipating, at the very least, a few knowing looks from their guests. She’d practically bitten a chunk out of Kato’s shoulder trying to be quiet when she’d climaxed, but she was sure everyone in the house had heard anyway, and would know they’d been doing more than taking a shower. Kato didn’t seem worried, but then, these were his friends. Hell, two of them were his long-lost brothers. One look at their studly selves, and it didn’t take much imagination to picture the three of them fucking their way together through hordes of women back in the day.
But this was her home, and even though she barely knew these people, they were her guests. And still, she’d been upstairs fucking instead of playing hostess.
Kato had been two steps behind her, but, as if aware of her embarrassment, he dropped down next to her and hooked an arm around her neck. Leaning in, he kissed the side of her face. “Pace, amata. These are friends.”
His words echoed her thoughts so closely that she wondered if he’d been keeping some magical mindreading talent from her, but she disregarded that idea almost immediately. After all, it wouldn’t have taken much reasoning to figure out what she was blushing about, and Kato was a very attentive lover.
Once they reached the bottom of the stairs and walked into the main living area, her concerns evaporated. It was obvious that none of her supposed guests had missed her at all. Every inch of counter space was covered with dishes and boxes of food and bottles of wine. Grace stared. She recognized the logo on some of the containers, and on the empty bags covering the kitchen floor. It was from a well-known, local restaurant, a place so expensive and, well “snooty” wasn’t too strong a word, that she hadn’t even known they offered take-out. It was one of those places where the staff acted like they were doing you a huge favor by waiting on your unworthy self. Unless she was with her mom and dad, and then they fell all over themselves kissing her dad’s rich ass.
Nick noticed her staring and grinned as he opened yet another container and scooped out a forkful of delicious-smelling food. “I’m in L.A. a lot,” he explained. “And I have friends.”
Obviously. Not to mention better friends than she had, and she lived here.
“Dig in, kids,” he told her and Kato, gesturing at the array of serving containers. “We couldn’t agree on what to order, so . . . I ordered it all.”
“You’ll get used to him,” Kato murmured, pulling her toward the kitchen. “Any meat?” he called, addressing Nico.
“What did I just say?” Nico complained loudly. “I ordered everything. Which means there must be five different meat dishes there.”
“Oh, at least,” Cassandra agreed, sipping a glass of red wine while watching Damian cut into a steak so bloody that Grace had to fight the urge to snatch it away and throw it on a hot grill.
“You’re Werner’s daughter,” said a voice over her right shoulder.
Grace jumped in surprise, wondering how he’d gotten so close without her noticing. Nico’s grin told her he knew what he’d done, and liked the fact that he’d startled her. She gave him a bland look in return. “You know my father?”
“In passing. We have mutual investments.”
Of course, they did. Everyone who had money in this town knew her father’s name. “So, you’re Kato’s Nico,” she commented, not to be one-upped. “He’s told me a lot about you.”
Nick laughed. “Don’t believe half of it. But tell me about Gabler.”
Well, so much for the fun part of the evening.
Grace put down the plate of food she’d been building and picked up her wine glass instead. Alcohol was going to be more necessary than food for this conversation.
“I haven’t known him long, only the few months that I’ve worked at the museum.”
“About that,” Nick interjected. “How did you come to work there at all? I’ve checked and your position was created at the last minute, seemingly with you specifically in mind. What do you know about that?”
Stress tightened her chest, making it hard to draw a full breath. “That’s what that demon said,” she whispered. “But I never knew about it. I thought it was a regular fellowship when I applied, and with the museum’s collection and reputation, I assumed there were several candidates.”
“If that were the case, why would they choose you?”
His question was aggressive enough that Kato reacted, coming up behind her and wrapping a supportive arm around her waist, his broad hand over her belly. “Grace is uniquely talented. Her knowledge of—”
“It’s okay,” she told him, placing her hand over his. “It’s a fair question. My academic record is far from the best one out there.” She met Nick’s steady gaze with one of her own. “I may not have published in every obscure academic journal in the field, but my language skills are superior to anyone I know. Especially when it comes to several ancient dialects from that region of the world. You ask why me? That’s my answer. Because I’m the only person with even a hope of translating those documents.”
Nick grinned suddenly and looked over her shoulder at Kato. “I like her!” he pronounced, mimicking Damian, whether intentionally or otherwise. “So tell me about Gabler. How’d he end up as some demon’s bitch?”
There was a moment of silence at the sudden switch in topics, and then Kato said, “The idiot volunteered for the job. And this wasn’t an ordinary possession. He’s just a meat suit by now, but at the beginning, Gabler would have had to be very much present. The demon wouldn’t have been nearly as successful if he hadn’t been.”
Nick shook his head. “Some things never change. What was it? Money? Power?”
“I don’t think it was that simple,” Grace told him. “Not from what he said tonight, or what the demon said for him. He wanted the money, for sure. But a lot of it was revenge for what he saw as a career filled with people who didn’t treat him the way he deserved. They didn’t give him the big promotions, the high-profile accolades, didn’t kiss his superior ass. And can I just say as someone who saw that ass almost daily . . . it wasn’t all that superior.”
Kato chuckled, pulling her back against his chest and depositing a kiss on the top of her head.
“You worked with him?” Nick asked.
“For the last two months, and I never would have guessed that there was a big bag of festering resentment concealed behind his creepy pale façade. But, apparently by the time I met him, he was already possessed.”
Nick seemed suddenly to realize that she and Kato hadn’t had a chance to eat, since he’d begun grilling them as soon as they’d come downstairs. “Grab some food, both of you. We can talk while you eat.”
Grace gave him a dry look, wondering when he’d been anointed boss of their little demon hunt. But she seemed to be the only one who was wondering about it. Kato and the others appeared to take it as much for granted as Nick, who was watching her with a crooked half-grin, all smug good looks and self-confidence. Both of which he had in abundance. She’d have to be blind not to notice how gorgeous he was. Even with Kato and Damian in the room, Nick drew a person’s eye. But even she knew that it wasn’t his looks that made him the center of the storm, it was . . . power? She wasn’t as versed in such things as Kato, but Nick gave off a vibe that was more than confidence, more than sex. It was almost a physical thing, like radiation, she thought dryly. And like radiation, it could be useful . . . or it could kill you.
“Come on.” Kato pulled her away from her stare-down with the big, bad sorcerer. “I’m hungry.”
Eventually, they all settled around the big table again. Grace lifted her fork, then stared down at her plate, wondering where to begin. Kato had piled her plate so high with admittedly delicious food that she knew
she’d never eat it all. But maybe that was the plan, she thought, watching him demolish his own, similarly generous, meal. Maybe she was just the keeper of his second serving.
Casting a suspicious eye his way, she took a few experimental bites, then settled on a fairly straightforward chicken breast, along with mashed potatoes, which were, in her mind, the most perfect food. Kato could have the rest, but if he tried for her potatoes, he was going to lose a hand.
Down at the other end of the table, Nick was exchanging a few words with Cassandra. Grace was getting the impression that those two had worked together for a while. She didn’t know Damian’s whole story, but she’d picked up enough to know Cassandra had broken his curse, and that it hadn’t been that long ago.
Nick laughed at something Cassandra said, then took a long drink of wine and set his glass on the table. As if that was some sort of signal, everyone paused what they were doing and turned in his direction with serious intent written in every nuance. Grace shrugged and turned back to her plate. She could eat and listen at the same time.
“All right, I’ll address the elephant in the room,” Nick began. “Why Gabler? What does Sotiris get out of that?”
Grace glanced up to see everyone looking at her expectantly. As if she knew the answer to the question. She swallowed, then took a sip of wine. “Are you asking me?” she clarified.
Nick gave another one of those smug smiles. “Well, you are the only one here who worked with the man, and Kato tells me you also met our old enemy, Sotiris.”
She shrugged dubiously. “Yeah, I worked with Gabler, but we weren’t exactly buds. I always got the impression that he didn’t like me, that I wasn’t ladylike enough for him. I tried to be when I was in the office. I stayed quiet and dressed conservatively. But I think he suspected I was only playacting. He had this image of the perfect woman, and I wasn’t it.”
“The fool,” Kato muttered. She gave him a happy smile and tipped her head over to rest briefly on his broad shoulder. Fuck Nick. Kato was clearly the superior man.