by Multiple
Sadness entered his expression at her rejection. “I know it’s hard for you, little witch, but I promise you’ve nothing to fear. Unless the thought of too many orgasms in a row freaks you out.” And that quickly, he changed from pensive male to the one she’d grown to love with the mischievous smile.
He lunged. She squealed like a little girl and ran. Not far though.
With his ridiculously long stride, he quickly caught her and tossed her over his shoulder. He laughed as she beat at his broad back with her fists. “Save some of that energy for the bedroom because you are not leaving until you admit you care for me.”
“I’ll kill you first.”
“I like a girl who’s kinky.”
“You’re impossible.”
“No, but I am horny.”
“How are we supposed to catch those souls if we’re fooling around here?”
“Some things are more important.”
“How can having sex with me be more important than ensuring you don’t burst into flame tomorrow?”
“I would let someone beat me with a cat-o-nine too, if you’d just admit you like me.”
“I hate you.”
“Close. I see we’ll need to work on that.”
Flipping her off his shoulder onto the bed, he quickly stripped out of his clothes and covered her frame with his own, pinning her to the mattress. It didn’t stop her from bucking and pushing at him. He didn’t budge, but he did clasp her hands in one of his fists and pull them above her head.
“Will you admit you like me?”
She glared, keeping her lips clamped tight less she inadvertently blurted out she loved him.
“Such a stubborn witch. I guess we’re going to do this the fun way.”
Oh no. She couldn’t let him have his sensual way. She’d melt under his determined touch and admit her affection, and then she’d end up screwed. I can’t give him the power to hurt me. Yet, what could she do to stop him? Cast a spell on him? Call my cat to eat him? A variety of things she could try ran through her mind, but she didn’t attempt any of them. Not with her heart racing, her pussy throbbing, and a part of her hoping, wistfully, that he meant what he said. It seemed his family’s insanity was contagious because she didn’t put up a fight at all as he set about seducing her.
He kissed her, while one hand fumbled at the hem of her shirt. His shirt. She’d not even stopped to change when she’d charged out of his home and headed straight to Lucifer’s office. Worry for him overrode any modesty she owned.
Up went the fabric, inch by inch, baring her flesh to his gaze. He stopped below her breasts as the fabric caught under her back. Anticipation held her breath. He didn’t shred the shirt like she expected at this snag, oh no, instead he dipped his head and placed his mouth over her fabric covered breast. The decadent heat of it arched her back and he took advantage, shimmying the shirt over her breasts, a slow ascent that proved maddening. And even worse, he left the top bunched around her arms and tucked under her head, so that when his mouth left hers and began to blaze a trail down her torso, she couldn’t even reach to touch him. To pull him closer. Not that the hand still gripping her wrists released her.
He held her pinned and exposed to his ardent gaze, and stare at her he did, the smoldering look raising her nipples into hard points while her sex warmed. Unbidden, she spread her legs to accommodate his body. But he didn’t place himself atop her like she wanted. Didn’t press himself against her core and rub where she ached.
Frustrated, and eager, she arched – hips, breasts, anything to try and connect with his body. He remained out of reach and she couldn’t stop a growl of impatience. It made him chuckle.
“Tell me, little witch.”
“Either fuck me or let me go,” she demanded, not ready to admit anything, but too aroused to not ask for more.
“Such language. I like it,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. He pulled her arms down and held them fisted under her breasts as he shuffled lower. “I am never letting you go, my impatient cougar. And as for making love to your delectable body, I’ll do that, but not until you tell me what I want.” He murmured the last part against her rounded tummy.
Rubbing his face, and the rough growth of hair he’d not shaved that morn, he kissed his way down to her thigh, his breath tickling her skin and making her hips arch. He blew on the aching space between her thighs, and she yelled, so desperate to have him.
But he had other ideas.
“Tell me you like me.” He blew the request across her sex, and her toes curled.
“Never.”
A flick of his tongue against her nub made her keen. “Tell me.”
“No.” But oh, how she wanted to. Biting her tongue though helped her keep the words at bay.
Back and forth they went, him teasing, her denying. He got bolder with his sensual torture and as she panted, every inch of her screaming for release, he demanded she admit her feelings.
She tried to hold on. Tried to chomp off her tongue. Think nasty thoughts. Even tried to summon her magic, which slipped through her grasp as he kept teasing her. Wracked with pleasure, mindless with need for him, she finally blurted the words he wanted to hear.
“I love you, dammit. Are you happy now? I don’t want to. Oh, how I wish I didn’t, but I do.”
“Oh, my sweet Ysabel.” He growled her name as he raised himself over her. “My very own witch.”
The head of his cock unerringly found the entrance to her sex and he thrust. One stroke, two strokes. Her aching flesh molded to his shaft, squeezed around him. She dug her nails into his shoulders as he released her hands. Clung to him as she rode the pinnacle of pleasure. She cried his name when she crested, waves of bliss shuddering through her.
“Oh my beautiful witch, how I love you,” he whispered as he thrust one final time, spilling his seed hotly inside her. For a few minutes, she let her resolve slip and allowed herself to believe, to bask in the warmth of his love.
They stayed joined together, breathing erratic, their bodies flushed with sweat. A moment she would always remember as the most beautiful. The most pleasurable. The moment that sealed her fate. Because now that I’ve admitted it, he has the power to hurt me. The thought frightened her to her very core.
*
The moisture leaking from her eyes shocked him. She’d admitted she loved him and now cried. Silently, but still. It wasn’t what he’d pictured happening once he admitted his affection.
“What are you doing, witch? Please tell me those are tears of joy.”
She pushed at him and he rolled to the side. Up she popped, back ramrod straight, her entire bearing screaming don’t touch. “I need to be alone.”
“Talk to me, Ysabel. What’s wrong?”
“You got what you wanted. You made me admit how I feel. Now leave.”
“I’m a little confused. I thought being in love was a good thing.” He stood from the bed and padded over to her, spinning her to face him.
“A good thing?” She laughed bitterly. “How is it a good thing to fall in love with a demon-whore? How long before you cheat on me and break my heart? A day? Two? Maybe I’ll be lucky and you can hide it from me for a few weeks.”
“You’re it for me, Ysabel. From now until one of us dies. I will touch no other.”
“You say it so convincingly,” she said, her tone wistful. “But, don’t forget, I know all the false promises. I’ve heard them before. I just don’t understand why. I was perfectly fine letting you have your fun with me and then walking. Why did you have to try to make it into something more? Something you know won’t last?”
“But I’m telling you the truth.” Exasperation colored his words, and still she sadly shook her head. Did she not understand how it worked when a demon mated? That despite their reputation, once they bonded it was one female for life?
“I wish I could believe. Please leave.” She pulled away from him, but before he could grab her and shake some sense into her, a furry menace jumped between them. T
eeth bared and growling, bloody Felipe dared him to get close enough for a bite.
“Ysabel. Call your cat off.”
Turning her back on Remy, his witch instead stalked into the bathroom and the feline stepped closer, still snarling.
“Get the fuck out of my way. I need to talk to her. To make her understand I mean what I say.”
It seemed the hellcat wasn’t interested in letting him say his piece and given the choice between losing some limbs or hurting her pet, Remy did the only thing he could. He turned on his heel and left.
As he stalked the castle corridors, he tried to figure out where he’d gone wrong. She said she loved him, and he, for the first time, declared himself to a woman. Used the Big L word, and not fallen over dead.
And in the biggest cosmic joke of all, his love made him lose his witch. How? How is that bloody possible?
And how can I fix it?
Time to talk to his mother. Surely she had some crazy plan to win over the trust of the one he loved. He just hoped it didn’t involve bathing in muds from the Obnoxious Swamp again. The last time it took weeks to get the stench out of his hair and it never did grow him a pair of horns like his mother intended.
Thank Lucifer.
Chapter Twelve
Remy left without even trying to pit himself against her cat, and Ysabel cried.
Dirty rotten jerk, telling me he loves me.
How dare he raise her hopes? How dare he get to her to admit she cared? Killing him was looking like a better and better prospect all the time, if only she could muster the strength to do so.
I can’t do it. I can’t end his life. Cowardly of her and weak, yet, she just had to think of his beautiful eyes and earnest expression to lose the fortitude. But, she did have a friend who might help her out.
Heading to Nefertiti’s tower, Ysabel caused the damned roaming the streets, and even the demons in her way, to dive to the side for cover. Perhaps it was the scowl on her face or the electrical static making her hair dance or the fireballs she kept lobbing – a corporal manifestation of her turmoil. Whatever the reason, no one dared to say a word or stand in her path as she made the short trek to visit her friend.
Rapping at the tower door – and admiring the new knocker shaped like a man on his knees with his arms bound behind his back – she tapped a foot impatiently as she waited. It took only a short moment before the ornate portal swung open to reveal the handsome figure of Geoffrey, the butler, standing at attention. Literally.
Naked but for a loincloth that did little to hide his straining erection, a must for the staff in this place, Geoffrey bowed her in.
“If my lady witch would follow me, Mistress awaits in the garden.”
Spinning on one heel, the butler walked down the corridor, the muscles of his shapely ass flexing. Normally, she would have allowed herself to admire such a prime specimen, even if she would never think of touching, however, consumed with thoughts of Remy, all she could think was how her demon sported a much better set of glutes.
Ruined. He’d ruined her to the point she couldn’t even admire another male. With anger now a companion to her misery, she stalked into the garden and found Nefertiti sitting at a wrought iron bistro set, sipping a lemonade while watching her gardener – who wore nothing but a straw hat, a tiny loin cloth and a set of shears. Averting her gaze, Ysabel sat across from her.
“Hey, Nef.”
“Ysabel. You naughty devil. A little imp told me someone got lucky last night, but judging by your smile it mustn’t have been very good. I’m surprised. Remy has impeccable technique. Or so I’ve heard. I never tried him out myself. Apparently, belonging to a harem doesn’t appeal. His loss.”
Ysabel’s fingers clawed at the table top as she fought to prevent herself from flying across the table and tackling her friend for even daring to think of Remy in a sexual manner. As to her query…she’d not come here to discuss her bedroom antics, but knowing Nefertiti, if she didn’t say something, she’d find a way to pry it out of her. “We had sex. It was good,” she grouchily admitted.
“So why the angry face? Did he screw you and run?”
“No.”
“Make you swallow when you told him you preferred to spit?”
Cheeks flaming, Ysabel bit out another, “No.”
“Did he try to insert his big tool into an out hole?”
“No.”
“Then what has your panties in a twist? I don’t think I’ve seen you this miffed since Lucifer bought you that vibrating chair that liked to grope.”
Ah, the chair. She’d retaliated for that prank by electrifying his. Not that it worked like expected. Instead of bellowing or shooting smoke from his ears, her boss thanked her with a sly, ‘My pubes have never been curlier. Thanks.’ She’d had to skip lunch and dinner that day after that admission. It still made her shudder.
Snapping out of the unwanted recollection, she caught Nefertiti’s questioning stare. Damn, she still wanted a reason for her annoyance. “He told me he loved me.”
Nefertiti blinked. Frowned. Opened her mouth, then closed it again. She shook her head. Slapped her left ear and said, “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that? I could have sworn you said he confessed to loving you.”
“He did.”
Eyes wide, expression stunned, her friend leaned back in her chair. “Congratulations.”
“Excuse me. Did you not hear what I said? The jerk said he loved me.”
“Yes. That’s quite the feat. I wagered he’d wait until he started going gray in a few hundred years before he’d fall into that trap.”
“He hasn’t. He’s just saying that.”
A crease marred Nef’s forehead. “Now I’m confused again. Are you saying he’s lying about confessing he loves you?”
“Yes. It’s part of his ruse.”
“Ruse? What kind of ulterior plan could he have?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure I won’t like it,” Ysabel grumbled.
“Let’s skip his confession for a moment. What about you? Do you love him?”
“Yes, the miserable bastard.”
Nefertiti’s eyes crossed and she closed them as she took a deep breath. “Maybe I’m finally getting slow with old age –”
“Never mistress!” shouted a male voice.
“ – but I fail to see the source of your anger. He loves you. You love him. Isn’t there a happily ever after in there somewhere?”
“No!”
“Why ever not?” Nefertiti replied in an exasperated tone.
“I know the answer,” sang a familiar voice.
Ysabel groaned and put her head down on the tabletop.
“Jallayna,” Nefertiti exclaimed. “What a pleasant surprise. I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Yes, I won the bet against all those wagering against me. My Remy has finally found a witch crazy enough to make him fall in love. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“You’re both nuts,” Ysabel muttered.
“Thank you,” they replied in tandem.
Raising her head, she peered at the two women. “Why is it you both believe he loves me?”
They shared a conspiratorial look. Then shrugged.
“Remy’s never said the L word before. Or so my sources say,” Nefertiti said.
“And I told you that you were the first girl he’s brought home,” his mother added.
“So what? I’m supposed to just believe he’s going to give up screwing everything with a hole between its legs and settle down with me?”
Dual nods answered her.
And she wanted to believe them. But…
“Oh, don’t you dare compare him to Francisco!” Nef exclaimed. “Remy is nothing like that two-faced bastard.”
“My boy has honor,” Jallayna said with pride. “He also has manners. Why, he never forgets to lift the seat to pee and always puts it down when he’s done.”
“So you both think I should just throw caution to the wind and let myself believe?”
“It’s time you trusted again,” Nef said softly.
“You cannot live in fear forever. After I accidentally killed Remy’s father, I was crazy with grief for a long time. And when Jacko came along, I also didn’t want to let myself love. But he wore me down, and now, even though I’m still slightly insane, I couldn’t be happier.” Remy’s mother beamed. “Oh and my husband says thank you for getting me up to date on the latest fashion trend. He loves my new pantyless state.”
Ysabel left as Nefertiti and Jallayna discussed the merits of going around bare-assed. It wasn’t a conversation she could have, especially not with Remy’s mom. But while the woman seemed to own no personal boundaries, she and Nef had given her food for thought.
Am I being foolish? Is it time I stopped wallowing in fear and let myself trust again? The worst that could happen was Remy breaking her heart. But the best was living with the male she loved. Never being alone. Enjoying laughter in her life again. Surely the benefit, even if it proved temporary, was worth the risk?
She owed it to herself to stop being such a chicken about love. Sometimes a girl got stuck with a loser who broke her heart. Yet, sometimes a witch hit the jackpot, and should enjoy the riches while they lasted. And besides, there were spells to make penises fall off if a man dared stray. But how to tell him? I wonder if I scared him away permanently with my hissy fit.
If he truly loved her as he said, then he wouldn’t let a temper tantrum stop him. Entering the castle, still lost in her thoughts, it took her a moment to register the imp flitting in front of her.
“What is it?”
“You’ve got mail,’ it giggled, thrusting an envelope at her. She snatched it from the clawed paw, but before she could ask who sent it, the mischievous creature flitted away.
The sealed red envelope bore only her name. She checked it for traces of magic but found none. She sliced it open and pulled out the missive inside.
Ysabel read the note twice, sure she’d misunderstood, but no, there was no mistaking the message.
We’ve got your demon lover. Either you find a way to get us out of going back to Hell or we’ll kill him. Painfully. Do nothing, and we’ll still kill him. And then we’ll disappear. Hope you enjoy burning alive for an eternity.