Demon in the Machine

by Lise MacTague

  Isabella shouldn’t have been feeling any pain. If she was, it was doing little to slow her down. The rough handling had done nothing to lessen her ardor, it seemed. If anything, it had increased it.

  Naughty girl, Briar thought. Isabella likes an aggressive woman. From the overtone of surprise to Isabella’s lust, this was a new discovery. Clearly, Isabella was anything but a virgin. She betrayed no anxiety at their actions, nor at her own surprise. Briar looked forward to exploring those possibilities with her. She would be happy to provide Isabella with a firm hand, if that was what she wanted. But first, those pants had to go.

  She lowered her head to Isabella’s beautiful stomach. She wore no girdle, and Briar was grateful for the ease of access the discovery afforded her. Isabella’s abdominal muscles contracted nicely when she nibbled her way down her belly to the top curve of her hip where it peeked out above the waistband of her trousers. Briar made short work of the buttons and pulled the pants down. Isabella’s drawers were no match for her either; she was able to divest them while still kissing and sucking her way across the smooth expanse of skin.

  The thatch of hair between Isabella’s legs was bright red. It seemed designed to draw Briar’s eye, and she decided to investigate more closely. Isabella’s hips twitched and her thighs fell open as Briar ran her tongue down the sensitive strip of skin that separated her thigh from her torso. Briar bit down sharply at the twitch.

  “Keep still,” she ordered, then laved the chastised flesh with the flat of her tongue. Isabella’s only response was another intake of breath, but Briar had felt the surge of pleasure, more at the order than the nip. Her own pleasure swirled within her in anticipation. Isabella was responsive, and Briar was swept along with her excitement.

  The scent of Isabella’s musk flooded her nose. She inhaled deeply, wanting to take in as much of her lover as possible. She spread her fingers across Isabella’s thigh and dove in, coating the bottom half of her face with the copious wetness that trickled from Isabella’s most private place.

  Isabella grabbed her head and held her there, tangling her fingers in Briar’s long hair. The encouragement was unnecessary, but certainly welcome. Briar dipped her tongue into Isabella’s entrance and was rewarded with a deep moan, one she felt as much as heard. She swirled her tongue around the entrance and easily rode Isabella’s hips as they bucked against her face. She drew her tongue up from the entrance to where Isabella’s clitoris quivered proudly, begging for her attention. She circled the eager protuberance once, twice, and again. Isabella no longer moaned, but called aloud in a torrent of curses and gasping, all interspersed with Briar’s name or entreaties to her god. Briar could feel the echoes of what she did to Isabella deep within herself. Liquid trickled from between her thighs as her arousal reached a fever pitch she’d rarely experienced.

  Briar batted at the tip of Isabella’s clitoris with her tongue, then took it into her mouth, suckling upon it. Isabella was beyond speech. She clamped her thighs around Briar so tightly that Briar wondered if she was going to be able to breathe. She grabbed Isabella by the rump and held on as she continued to suck on her. She dug her fingernails into the taut muscles and Isabella jerked against her, the additional stimulus more than she could bear. She threw her head back and screamed her release to the cold, uncaring workshop. Faint sounds of her passion echoed back to them. Isabella collapsed back onto the narrow cot, which creaked alarmingly at being treated so roughly. Her thighs stayed locked around Briar for a few moments longer before releasing her.

  Briar stayed where she was, unwilling to lose contact.

  “My god, Briar,” Isabella finally said. Her voice cracked from overexertion. “That was amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like that before.”

  Suddenly alarmed, Briar sat straight up. “Surely that wasn’t your first time?” How had she misinterpreted Isabella’s emotions so drastically?

  Isabella waved a limp hand reassuringly in her direction. “Of course not. But that was the first time someone tried to make the top of my head come off.”

  “Oh.” Briar relaxed, feeling unaccountably smug. “That’s all right then.”

  “That was more than all right. That was…” Isabella hummed to herself instead of choosing a word to describe the experience. “I’m going to need a moment.”

  “Take all the time you need.” It was the least she could do, after all.

  “Why don’t you come up here?” Isabella patted the cot next to her.

  “It’s very narrow, don’t you think?”

  “I’ll make room.” She angled her body so there was possibly enough room for Briar.

  The cot was exceedingly narrow and had not been built with the idea of accommodating more than one, but Briar couldn’t resist Isabella. She climbed up and slid onto the cot in front of her. Isabella had to wrap her arms around her to keep them both from rolling out of the narrow bed. The warmth of Isabella’s embrace felt like coming home, as did the contentedness that radiated from her skin and into Briar. She relaxed for the first time, possibly in forever. Isabella’s breath caressed the back of her neck, each exhalation sending shivers all the way down her spine to the tips of her toes.

  How long they lay together, wrapped up in each other, Briar had no idea. It wasn’t as long as she wanted, that was for certain, but when she felt Isabella’s satisfaction recede and her arousal come to the fore once more, she was beyond ready.

  Isabella’s lips at her neck came as no surprise. Briar closed her eyes and enjoyed the shivers the contact awoke in her. Goosebumps pebbled her skin of her legs. She moaned aloud when Isabella reached around and cupped her breast. Her clever fingers plucked at Briar’s nipple and the moan disintegrated into a gasp. Tension built within her, coiling tighter and tighter and centering on her groin.

  Briar was unable to stop her hips from lifting in mute appeal. It felt like her entire life had aimed her at this moment, this perfect slice of time with Isabella. Isabella bit down hard on Briar’s shoulder, wringing a high cry from her. Isabella knew exactly what she wanted, what she craved with every fiber of her being. Her fingers trailed from Briar’s breast down over the curve of her hip. They tangled through Briar’s bush. Wetness flowed from her in anticipation, but Isabella allowed her fingers to roam around her outer petals, refusing to give her what she ached for.

  “Isabella, please.” Her voice broke. Another time she would have been humiliated to sound so needy, but she didn’t care, not when Isabella withheld the completion she so required from her. “Please!”

  Those clever fingers dipped between her lips, into the wet, aching focus of Briar’s need. Nothing else mattered now. If she didn’t feel Isabella within her, the universe might as well stop spinning for all she cared.

  Then her demands were answered. Isabella slid a finger within her, stroking that spot inside, the one her entire being was focused upon. Isabella pulled out and Briar growled in frustration, then cried out as one finger was replaced by two that reached deep inside, stroking her, knowing her. Briar barely noticed when Isabella shifted away from her, pushing her back against the cot. She withdrew again and Briar opened her eyes and glared at Isabella, who simply grinned back. When she came back, it was with three fingers, stretching Briar deliciously around fingers that thrust in and out, skating over spots guaranteed to bring her release.

  The more Isabella moved inside her, the tighter pressure coiled around Briar’s center. She was one with the pleasure that drove her, screaming before it. When Isabella leaned forward and took one of her nipples between her teeth and bit down, Briar could restrain herself no more. She exploded outward, everything she knew going with it. She was everywhere, she was nowhere. Briar was no longer; all that existed was pleasure. She reached the edge of her being and paused, floating in nothingness, before receding slowly back into herself. Everything tingled and her eyes tried to focus but couldn’t. Eventually, Isabella’s smiling face coalesced in front of her eyes.

  “Welcome back,” Isabella s
aid. “That was quite a journey, wasn’t it?”

  “Very much so.” Briar stretched luxuriously, willing life back into limbs still heavy with sensation. Her knuckles brushed something cold and hard. “What?” The ground was much too close, but that made no sense since they were on a bed.

  “Oh that.” Isabella shrugged. “We broke the cot.”

  “I have no regrets.”

  “Neither do I.” Isabella gathered Briar back into her arms and held her close.

  The shroud. She should have pulled it back on, but that seemed like so much effort. Isabella was there; it didn’t matter. There would be time enough for hiding later. For now, she was happy to be able to drop the facade.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It should have been uncomfortable, but when Isabella opened her eyes, she was anything but. Briar’s arm lay heavy around her waist, snugging her buttocks into the curve of her pelvis. If she moved, either she would end up on the cold stones of the floor or Briar would, but she thought perhaps she could have stayed that way forever. Briar was a comforting warmth against her back. The thigh tangled between her legs was more distracting than comforting. The previous night’s activities weren’t far from her mind—or from her groin, judging by the heat that settled there when she thought of Briar beneath her, black hair spread across the cot, skin so luminescent it almost glowed.

  Isabella shifted when her lust roared back to life. She had to have Briar again. She rocked her hips back against Briar, seeking the friction her nether region demanded. Briar’s arm tightened around her waist.

  “So soon?” Briar asked huskily. She chuckled low in her throat and Isabella thought perhaps she would come again simply from the sound.

  “Oh yes,” Isabella said, her voice rusty. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  Briar stiffened against her and would have pulled away if Isabella hadn’t held her arm against her. She looked down and watched as the pearlescence of Briar’s skin dimmed then was swallowed by the appearance of her human skin. The arm felt no different.

  “What’s wrong?” Isabella didn’t understand the shift in Briar’s demeanor, but she was no longer trying to leave.

  “You only want me because of my succubus blood. What you’re feeling isn’t real.”

  Isabella opened her mouth to rebut the statement, then closed it when nothing came to mind. The idea was so ridiculous, she didn’t wish to countenance it, not even to speak against it. Briar was certainly extremely attractive, in her real form or wearing her disguise. But could it be true? There was no denying her attraction, and it certainly went beyond what she’d felt for the girls she’d dallied with on her father’s estates. No, that had been fun. What she had with Briar felt like it went beyond mutual amusement.

  “If that’s true,” Isabella finally said, “then why do I want you as badly now as I did a few seconds ago. You do yourself a disservice, Briar.” It took some doing and no small amount of support from Briar, but Isabella was able to maneuver herself around to look her lover in the face. She ignored how fantastic their breasts felt mashed together and looked Briar in the eye. “You are beautiful, there is no denying that, but I care not one fig about that. Human or demon, I want to be with you. Your body is one thing, but your mind is truly stupendous. I love the way you view things and file them away for later. I love—”

  At the far end of the shop, the lights came on. Cogs and gears groaned to life above their heads.

  “The lift,” Isabella hissed. “Someone’s coming!” The blanket over them was nowhere near enough to preserve their modesty. No matter who was coming down the lift, disaster awaited them if they were caught together.

  Briar leaped from the bed, pulling the cover with her. “Where are all my clothes?”

  “You’ll never get back into that dress in time.” That and Isabella had completely destroyed the buttons. They had only one hope now. Isabella threw open a small footlocker against the near wall and pulled out her coveralls. “Put this on.”

  From the look on her face when Briar held up the coveralls, she would rather have eaten earthworms raw. “My corset,” she said instead. “You must help me.”

  “For the love of…” Isabella bustled over to Briar. She’d already managed to do up half the ties. “Hold still,” she ordered crisply when Briar tried to pull on her bloomers while Isabella was attending to the remaining corset strings. It was fortunate the lift took as long as it did to descend, but with Briar’s insistence on the corset, this was going to be close. She pulled halfheartedly on the strings before tying them. “There.” It would have to do.

  Briar said nothing and pulled on her underwear, then the coveralls, grimacing as she did so. While Isabella had none of the same compunctions about her work clothes, it felt strange to pull them on over bare skin. Her endowments weren’t nearly so impressive as Briar’s, but the canvas chafed at her sensitive nipples. She ignored the lustful surge in her belly. Now is not the time for such distractions, she told herself severely. Her body was deaf to her remonstrance and continued to yearn for Briar’s touch.

  The lift was almost all the way down. Isabella could see daylight at the top of the shaft. How long had they been down there?

  “Get over to the work bench,” she said. “We need to look busy.”

  Briar’s nod was jerky, but she strode over to the bench where that damn book sat, surrounded by strange symbols in darkening blood. In Briar’s blood.

  Isabella didn’t know if it was the loss of Briar’s proximity or the relief now that they were no longer nude, but she bit her lower lip as the lacerations in her back and shoulders chose that moment to remind her of their existence. Her right leg throbbed, and when she pulled up her pants leg, she wasn’t surprised to see a mottled bruise covering most of her shin. It felt considerably better than it had earlier, but the ache was constant.

  There was nothing to do but look as if they’d been down there working all night. She handed Briar a hair tie on her way past and was rewarded with a brief smile at her thoughtfulness. Briar swept her hair back in one easy motion, and Isabella had to force herself to keep moving and not stand staring at the curve of her neck. Her suit was back in the small alcove with the destroyed cot, but her first priority was the jump rig. She was kneeling in front of it, inspecting it for damage when her father wandered into the area.

  “Oh, hullo, Izzy,” he said. If he noticed their somewhat bedraggled condition, he said nothing. His attention was riveted to the carriage still on the vehicle lift. “Blimey, what happened here?”

  “Hail,” Isabella answered promptly.

  “Unkindness of ravens,” Briar said at the same time. Of course she knew what a group of ravens was called.

  “Yes.” Isabella stared at Briar, her hands spread. What was that? she mouthed. “It was like a hail of ravens, the flock was so large. I told Briar—er—Brionie that I’d fix it for her.”

  “Ravens?” Both of Joseph’s eyebrows were so high they practically disappeared into his hairline. “That’s a devil of a thing.” He ran his fingers over some of the worst of the rents in the wood. “They must have been quite sizable.”

  “Very.” Isabella relaxed. Her father seemed prepared to accept the idea. Of course, what choice did he have, really? It wasn’t like he’d think, or even believe it if he they tried to tell him, that they’d been attacked by a flock of demons.

  It was hard enough for her to believe it, never mind that she’d seen and felt the imps herself. Briar’s true form was further evidence, and she’d done more than touch that. Her demonic heritage should have been stranger, and perhaps had she not been pursued across London’s rooftops by imps, she might have been more put off by her revelation. Instead, this new side to Briar fit her; more than that, it made a certain amount of sense. Beside all of that, Briar was still the same person, eyes glowing red or not.

  Unaware of Isabella’s internal deliberation, her father continued: “Still, Jean-Pierre will be pleased to have the chance to work with the carriage again
. He was quite put out only to get a taste of the magic this conveyance uses to power itself.”

  “Of course.” Isabella shut her mouth on the rest of her comment. Her father simply would not hear anything negative about his friend and partner. They’d been working together for years, and it was Isabella’s opinion that LaFarge benefited far more from the arrangement than did Joseph. He never said anything when LaFarge applied for patents under his name alone, then sold them almost immediately. When Isabella had asked him about it, he’d shrugged and said that LaFarge had none of the advantages he did, so why not let him benefit? These days, their family would have been well-served by the remuneration from her father’s inventions, but she couldn’t tell him that either.

  “I doubt it will do him much good,” Briar said. Despite the cutting remark, she looked worried, though Isabella doubted Joseph would notice. To every external appearance, Briar seemed composed enough, but Isabella could read the tension in her shoulders as she turned back to the grimoire. She hadn’t even opened it yet, but her notebook was already out, and her neat notations filled at least one page.

  “What are you working on, Izzy?” Joseph leaned over her.

  Isabella cringed at the use of the pet name in front of Briar. It made her sound about five years old, not an impression she wanted to leave with the other woman. “Simply inspecting my rig for damage,” she said. “It was involved in a bit of a tumble.” She held up her hand to forestall him. “I’m not injured, but the rig was banged up.”

  “Nothing major, it would appear.”

  “Thankfully not. I suspect the damage is mostly cosmetic, though I shall have to recalibrate it and run some tests.”

  “I see.” His eyes turned vague as he straightened. “I will simply…” Joseph wandered off, his voice trailing away as he was subsumed by his plans for the day. Isabella was just as glad. Every time he was around the jump rig, the possibility existed, however remote, that he might wonder why on earth she needed such a thing. She didn’t want to lie to him about it, but she simply could not permit him to find out what she was using it for.