Demon Q: New Vampire Disorder, Book 8

by Marie Johnston

  “Oh, I remember. Tell me about it again. I love the story.” She slinked back to the bed, lay across it like a Grecian goddess, and patted the satin sheets.

  Sexy, but a sense of wrongness twisted in his gut. “No, you need to eat first. And no desserts for the main meal today.” Maybe that’s what was making her ill. He went for the door again.

  “Quution, for fuck’s sake, just stop.”

  He stopped and stared at the wood texture of the door. The more he stared, the more it resembled stone. Odd. Like so much about this morning, even the door wasn’t looking quite right. He lifted his hand to touch it but…

  Chapter 9

  Xan kept him entranced against the wall of his chamber, his sculpted ass facing her. What a magnificent backside.

  He’d be happy thinking he was making her a meal. Feeding her—and probably not scavenger bugs. Or even candy beetles.

  They were in the human realm—in his mind. That his fantasy was living there wasn’t the surprise.

  The heart-stopping shocker was his appearance. She thought she’d royally fucked up the illusion when he’d morphed into his current look, but he’d acted like I wake up this studly every damn day. So much about him was smaller, but Quution as a whole package seemed bigger. So much bigger.

  Gone were the shanks hanging out of his mouth. He had the sexist set of fangs. She could practically see the word ecstasy etched into each one. Having those pierce her skin during sex would— She shivered. She would beg for it, given the chance.

  And his hands. So damn humanoid, with nary a claw. Refined. The hands of a demon scholar. Smooth hands that could pinch and plunge without drawing blood.

  Her heart was still hammering at the sight of his body. She’d enchanted him and he’d woken up her ideal male. But the overall essence of him hadn’t changed. He still looked like Quution, only naked. Delectably naked.

  Somehow, she’d messed up her end. You don’t look well. She could be twinsies with Brittany—Brooklyn. Did he change up and decide he liked brunettes instead?

  She worried her lip with a horribly blunt tooth. How did humans consume real food? These tiny canines were no good for ripping or shredding skin. She’d have to wag her head like a dog.

  And this cursed hair! She shoved the mane off her face. A dream state was an odd reality. Tangible, yet not real. She would feel everything while looking as she wished to others. It was like playing pretend and she could change her appearance with a thought.

  Before he could wake, she’d changed her appearance into something she guessed he’d like. Then he’d called her Xan, like in his ideal world, he’d wake up next to her.

  And her looks were confusing him and weakening the hallucination.

  With a swirl of her hand, she changed her hairstyle to one with a clip. While her hallucinations weren’t real, they felt real, even to her. The silky slide of the satin sheets was enough to make her consider extending her shared hallucination with Quution for an extra day and risking the wrath of Spaeth. Yes, she’d be sleeping on the same feather mattress, even if in her head, she’d feel the same comfort Quution thought he felt.

  To dupe them, remember?

  His trench coat and ratty pants and clunky boots were to fool…who? More importantly, why?

  Spaeth, that bastard, was on to Quution, and for good reason. What was the drool-worthy demon up to?

  He’d been so close to telling her. She’d get the story out of him. But she had to go find some stupid bugs so they could dine on his “home-cooked” food.

  She couldn’t help but sneer when she eyed the illusion over his chamber. Only they could see it, but his door was shut anyway. Yet the wood plank wasn’t the “door” he was standing in front of. When he’d gone to the “window,” he’d stood in front of the door. Right now, he faced a stone wall.

  A human house. Not even a vampire place. What did Quution think he could do? Live as himself in the human realm, carry a briefcase, and comb over his horns before going to a nine-to-five white-collar job?

  She wouldn’t forget his glossy hair gliding through her fingers anytime soon. Her kind had a thing for lustrous hair. Or just she did. On Quution.

  In his dream, his horns were hidden well enough that he could slap a cap on and dress in jeans and a Henley and blend. How in the underworld did he think he could just take up residence on Earth? He’d have to bond with a being from that realm.

  She licked her tongue along a fang. He didn’t need to be bonding with anybody.

  As for her image, she concentrated on Quution. What her targets most wanted was often their greatest weakness. Quution had wanted companionship, a trusted someone to talk to, and—with a gasp, she lost all sensation of irritating hair. She was back to herself.

  She peered at her hands. Were her powers failing? Mama had said maintaining these illusions were taxing, and yes, her body ached like she’d gotten into a short-lived fight, but her power stores were full. Learning to read and write hadn’t taxed her innate abilities at all. Just her patience.

  The only other explanation was that he wanted her. A lot.

  Quution polished off the last mouthful. He waited for Xan’s reaction to the seared steak.

  She chewed and gave him a guarded look from under her dark lashes.

  He put his fork and steak knife on the plate. “You must’ve needed a good meal. You’re looking better all ready.”

  Truthfully, she’d been back to her stunning self as soon as he’d returned to treat her to breakfast in bed. The deep purple of her skin shimmered as softly as the expensive sheets, and the light purple lines tracing her skin matched the shade of the fabric. It was like the bedding had been made for her.

  “Back to normal,” she said lightly.

  “While I was cooking, I decided I needed a week off. You and I need to spend more time together. And you wanted to learn to read all those scrolls I was hoarding.”

  Her mouth curved in a pleased smile. “Excellent. And don’t forget, I asked to hear the story again.”

  “Oh yes.” He stretched and cracked his knuckles. Tensing briefly, he waited for the familiar jabs of pain, but they didn’t come. He frowned at his hands. Why had he expected pain just for putting his hands together?

  Xan was back to normal, but he was not.

  The story snowballed, pushing at his lips to get out. He wanted to spill it so badly. “I got the idea from my sire.”

  “Your…sire?”

  “It didn’t turn out so well, but I think he had a good idea. He was selfish and self-motivated, of course. That’s why it didn’t work.” Quution clenched his jaw. “That, and because he was an evil bastard. What he did to Stryke and our mother was unforgiveable.”

  She scrutinized him like she was working out a puzzle. Understanding lit her face and she sat back. “I’ll be damned.” She gave her head a shake. “He wasn’t as clever or careful as you.”

  He detected a hint of humor in her tone, but his answer was serious. “No. He was driven by his need for control and domination, and his bitterness over the level of his birth ruined him. He’d positioned himself in a prime spot to make a real impact in the underworld, but he squandered it.”

  “How again? I don’t remember.”

  “When my mother birthed Stryke, our sire hid them away, imprisoned them so no one could question how it was possible for two pure demons to have a halfling. But then Stryke aged and became useful to him.”

  “So his sire made him one of his personal servants.” Xan popped the last bite of steak in her mouth. The following crunch made him tilt his head. Had he charred a portion? Her eyes flared and she chewed slowly. “Back to you.”

  As long as his faulty food prep didn’t bother her. “Before he was killed, he came for my mother. She survived and kept me a secret.”

  “She loved you.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “No. She was crueler than my sire. Horrendous. It’s why I buried myself in books, hoping she’d forget I was there.”

&nb
sp; “Didn’t she teach you to read?”

  He shook his head. “During her lucid moments, she gave me a start. The books had some residual energy from the writers.” Most of the ink used was blood. “I learned the rest on my own.”

  She arched a delicate brow. “Mm.”

  That sound she made. Loaded. Full of opinion she didn’t want or care to voice. But he wanted to hear it.

  “What was the first thing you did when you were free?” she asked.

  “Go after my brother.”

  “You don’t sound like that was a good thing.” She slapped her fork down. “No way. To kill him?” Her dark eyes danced. No wonder he enjoyed telling her this story. “But you didn’t, obviously. What happened?”

  “Stryke’s my only family.” And a good guy. “We have an agreement. He pretends to work for me while being a liaison to the vampires.”

  “Liaison for what?”

  Quution waved his hand, suddenly wary of the subject. “You know. That messy business is over with.”

  Her mouth tightened. “But it’s part of the story. You know how much I like when you tell the whole sordid affair.”

  “No, I don’t.” He’d said it automatically. But the truth ringing in his words was undeniable. He couldn’t recall telling her how his machinations had turned out. Wouldn’t she have been there for them anyway?

  He watched her. The area around her grew fuzzy. Blinking, he squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I…think I need to lie down.”

  “Now that I like more than talking.” She rose and he got an eyeful of her body. Plump, rounded breasts, toned stomach sloping into the curves of her hips and down to the cradle of her sex. Her coloring darkened along her center, like she was draped in shadows.

  She came around the table and held her hand out. He gulped and accepted it. His heart rate kicked up and he was stricken with nerves, as if he had performance anxiety.

  Pulling him toward the bed, he struggled to recall when he’d put a table and chairs in his bedroom, but when he looked back, they were gone. Was he drowning in lust so badly he’d blanked on the walk to his bedroom?

  At the edge of the bed, she tugged him close. Face-to-face like they were, it was hard to breathe. Brimstone-laced lavender was his favorite smell and he was cocooned in it. She brushed one hand around his neck and draped one over his shoulder.

  He was lost in her bottomless gaze. This close, he could see he’d been wrong. Her irises were like purple sapphires. Dark, but not as black as he’d first thought.

  His gaze dropped to her full lips. Purple tinted with pink, her lips were like her eyes. She could bottle the color and make millions off the newest shade of lipstick.

  She pulled him closer, and he gladly went until his mouth rested against hers. Slow. Careful. He wanted to savor his first kiss, but at the same time, he feared ruining this experience for her.

  She jerked away, but didn’t release him. “Haven’t you ever…” Gazing deep into his eyes, she muttered, “I can’t believe it.”

  First kiss? Surely they’d been physical before. He’d woken up to her. More than once, that he was sure of. But he was also sure he’d never lain with anyone before.

  “It was the disguise,” he confessed. Clarity returned, at least regarding his virtue. “I couldn’t risk discovery of my half-breed status. I wouldn’t pass for a full-blood like this.”

  “Not with that physique.” She didn’t make a move to kiss him again.

  “Did I ruin the moment?” How had he ruined the mood? Was he so inexperienced she could tell from his lips touching hers?

  He was rewarded with a small smile. This time he took control and lowered his head to capture her fuchsia lips. Licking his tongue out, he wrapped his arms around her. Despite their seasoned steak, she tasted sweet, like the candy beetles she favored.

  She was his dessert.

  She met his tongue with hers and he was lost to sensation. He hardened, his erection clamped between his body and her abdomen. Hugging her closer, he deepened the kiss. Did she like it when he stroked her tongue like he wanted to stroke her sex? Would she whimper when he nibbled along her lower lip? Would she like it if he traced her lips with his tongue?

  The answer to all of his questions was yes. From her moan and the way she arched into him, he could do no wrong and not one act he’d done in his life had ever infused him with such power.

  He needed to touch more of her. Sweeping his hands up her body, he savored the glide of her smooth skin. Tingling along his palms matched the faint swirls under her skin. He cupped her breasts, and like with her mouth, he tested her responses. Breaking the kiss, he needed to view her body like the work of art it was.

  A lift and a small squeeze had her curving into his hands, exposing her graceful neck. He used his thumb and forefinger to tweak each nipple. Her sharp inhale was perfect.

  Dipping down, he captured one dark peak in his mouth. Her sugary flavor hit his tongue. Was she sweet all over?

  He was painfully hard, an inferno raging in the center of his body, but he’d never been one to be distracted by his own needs. Xan came first.

  Lowering to his knees, he kissed his way down her stomach.

  “Quution.” She licked her lips, her expression hesitant, like she thought she should put a stop to this but didn’t want to. He didn’t want to either.

  Sliding his hands up her legs and circling until his thumbs were wedged between the warm skin of her thighs, he continued an upward path along her legs. When his fingers hit the fiery heat of her core, he closed his eyes and fought for control.

  He would not come from touching her alone. He was a grown demon, dammit.

  “You need to lie down,” he said gruffly, not recognizing his own voice.

  She dropped, her ass almost missing the edge of the bed. With his help, she stayed on but he held her legs. She leaned back on her hands, her gaze rapt.

  His hands were still on her thighs. Slowly, he pushed them apart.

  Her glistening slit parted to reveal a vision that would keep him awake and hard the rest of his life. Her sex swirled with lighter purples, touches of pink, and so much wetness that he could only think of devouring her.

  “I want to taste.” He couldn’t help uttering his thoughts. What he wanted had to be etched across his face anyway.

  “I want you to.” Like the sexy vixen she was, she lifted and spread her legs farther, her slender feet on his shoulders.

  His groan echoed through his chamber—his room, in his cabin. Actually, he didn’t care where the fuck he was, as long as nothing bothered him.

  First, he had to see if she was as soft as she looked. Rimming her labia with his finger, he trailed along her fold. A light quiver ran through her legs down to her feet.

  He would grin, but he was too focused.

  So, so soft.

  He dipped his fingertip into her slit. His groan was louder.

  So wet. Dripping and ready for him and he’d done nothing but fumble along her body. A tiny nub captured his attention.

  He knew what a clit was, had even read several descriptions of how to stimulate one, but this was his first time seeing the special organ in person.

  Mine.

  With the lightest touch, he circled her clit. Her hips bucked and her moan went straight to his dick. He stroked down her seam until his finger skimmed her opening.

  Her legs were rigid, like she was on the edge.

  “Do you like this?” He needed the answer more than his next breath.

  “I like it all, just do more of it,” she said between clenched teeth.

  His grin was quick, fading as he licked his lips. Inserting the tip of his finger, he dropped his head to flick his tongue across her nub.

  “Quution! Yes,” she hissed.

  Thrusting his finger in the rest of the way, he marveled over how she clenched around him. He slid back out, then ran his finger up to circle her clit and back down to thrust inside.

  She let out a shout and her knees fell eve
n farther open.

  Her wet sex open to him, he feasted, using his mouth to suck, lick, and nibble until she grasped each horn and pushed herself against his face. How he had the cognition to keep a thrusting rhythm with his finger, he didn’t know.

  He didn’t care as long as her pleasure-heavy shouts and moans rang through his place. His head couldn’t move, she had him pulled against her so hard. When her body tightened around him, she stilled for a brief moment before shaking with convulsions. He nearly spilled his own release.

  He hadn’t so much as touched himself, but lapping Xan’s juice, getting slammed with her orgasm, was almost enough to get himself off.

  With his help, she strung out her release and he was happy to let her go as long as she needed. As soon as she was done, he wanted to know when he could do it again.

  Finally, she released him, her arms flopping next to her, her legs going limp and sliding off his shoulders.

  He rose enough to pick her up and set her down across the bed. Her desire fulfilled, heavy-lidded eyes tracked him.

  He grinned. “Was that okay for my first try?”

  “It was adequate.” She failed to hold back her smile. Her bared fangs in his bed sent another shot of electricity through him.

  What if he used his energy in bed?

  No, he had to know what he was doing before he shocked his partner.

  Stretching over her, he placed a knee between hers.

  She stiffened and put a hand on his chest. “Wait. This will be, like, your first time first time?”

  “Yes.”

  She slid her gaze away, the furrow in her brow back. “It should be special.”

  Was it ever for demons? He was a lottery winner right now. “This is special. You are special.”

  Instead of melting under him, her gaze shimmered with guilt. “Has a female ever gotten you off? Do you even know what it’s like?”

  There was no derision in her questions. She was asking out of concern, and she must’ve read his answer in his face.