“You won’t be long?” Lyx brought the tobacco to his mouth and inhaled.
“Only what’s essential.” Earth made his skin crawl, so he rarely visited the human domain. When he had no choice but to visit, he stayed no longer than necessary. “We were rough with her last night.”
Rougher than normal. They’d forced her to take them fast and hard, without any gentling. They’d ridden her ass, pussy and mouth, pushing her from one climax to another, until she pleaded with them to leave her alone. Those sweet entreaties served as their excuse to give her more of the same until she was compelled to beg for release and blacking out on the seventh orgasm. In her skin during the climax, Troz had joined her in the blackness for a brief moment.
The other demon exhaled the smoke and looked at him. “She liked our roughness.”
Fuck yeah she’d enjoyed herself. A lot. They’d given her mind-boggling pleasure. Troz suspected he was just a little addicted to being in her skin when she climaxed. Her orgasms were astonishing and it felt like his entire body detonated when she came. With their climaxes timed together, he became damn near mindless.
Troz buckled his belt and strode to the bed. He peered at his two redheads. I’m a lucky fucker. “I know she enjoyed herself, Lyx, but she’s human. That makes her fragile. After a week of nonstop fucking, we might want to go easy on her today.”
“I’ll bathe her in the healing waters like I do every morning. She’ll be ready again later for our cocks.” Lyx smirked, puffed on his cigar one last time, and then disintegrated the tobacco in a burst of flames. “I admit I want to play with her. See how far she’ll go to receive one small climax.”
After a while they had to wean her off the healing waters. “Trust me, there’s nothing small about her orgasms.”
“Bastard.” Lyx shot him a wink. “Must be nice to enjoy that with her.”
Troz laughed. “Probe her mind as she comes, and you’ll have some idea.”
He leaned over and put his mouth on Lyx’s, lingering over the kiss. He never departed without a show of affection. They were his way of demonstrating he cared. His spouse cupped the back of his neck and deepened the kiss, their tongues connecting and dancing in a familiar rhythm.
When they parted, Lyx held him near, and his thumb traced the underside of Troz’s bottom lip. “Maybe we should fuck each other today and let her watch.”
“Yeah?” Troz shoved his hand in Lyx’s flaming hair and jerked his head back. “How you want it, Lyx. You on your hands and knees with Sanja beneath you, as I fuck you hard until you cum all over her? Or you inside her while I fuck you? Or maybe you would prefer—”
Lyx shot out of bed and shoved him against the wall. Their gazes connected seconds before their lips did. They fought to plunder one another’s mouth until they were gasping for breath and Troz’s pants became too rigid in the crotch. Lyx lifted his head just enough to peer at him before kissing down his neck. Fuck, but he loved the way the other man felt against him.
Troz clamped his hands on Lyx’s ass and stared at his spouse, as he held him motionless so he could rub his leather-clad cock against Lyx’s pelvis.
Lyx groaned at the contact. In response, he bit Troz’s neck hard enough there’d be a bruise later. Before Lyx lifted his head to peruse him, Troz nipped his jaw. “You’re in a playful mood this morning, Troz.”
Fucking the mother of their future children had a way of amplifying his frisky disposition. “Indeed.” He gripped Lyx’s hair and reversed their positions. With Lyx’s back to the wall, he ground his pelvis against the other man’s, imitating the act of sex. Lyx hissed. Before his lover could touch him, Troz slammed his hands against the wall with Troz’s palms on Lyx’s wrists. When they fought for domination, their sex always turned rough. “When I return, maybe I’ll give Sanja lessons on what you like.”
Troz placed kisses, licks, and nips down Lyx’s chest and abdomen. Cupping Lyx’s balls, Troz wrapped five-fingers around the base of the bumpy cock. Troz licked the purple precum off Lyx’s dick, and the semen tingled on his tongue.
Lyx grasped the back of his head and Troz tensed. A moment later Lyx dropped his hands at his sides with a mumbled, “Forgot.”
Troz should be able to handle the act after all this time, but ever since his abduction as a child, when they’d tried to force him to perform oral on their Master, he hadn’t been able to tolerate anyone holding his head. He’d been beaten for refusing to perform fellatio and had almost died from the injuries. If that hadn’t been enough, he’d had his face held in the Lava Rivers until he passed out…not once, but over and over again. All because he refused to be raped by his captor. After he’d been rescued, he waited, matured, gained power, and then went after the son-of-a-bitch who’d kidnapped him.
How’s what we did to Sanja any different than what they tried to do to me? That he compared the two as similar agitated him. Demons had the right to take humans, but demon on demon abductions were strictly forbidden.
Troz thrust the memories aside and sucked the head of Lyx’s dick into his mouth. The taste of Sanja’s cunt mixed with the taste of his spouse made for a powerful aphrodisiac. He curled his tongue around the crown, rotating as he added pressure to the length. His cheeks hollowed as he took his lover all the way into his mouth and down his throat. He withdrew to the tip, and went back down on him, maintaining a slow steady pace. Lyx’s sighs and moans were Troz’s remuneration.
“Goddamn, Troz, you’re going to make me blow.” His knees trembled, verifying the statement.
Making eye contact with Lyx, Troz slowly slid his mouth to the tip of Lyx’s dick. He curled his tongue around the head, placed a final lick to the slit, and sucked so hard that when he removed his mouth there was a popping sound.
Lyx panted. He went to grab Troz’s head, but caught himself at the last second and lowered his hands back to the wall. “Don’t fucking stop now.”
As consolation, Troz offered a lopsided smile as he rose to his feet. He nipped Lyx’s bottom lip hard enough to cut. He swiped away his lover’s purple blood with his tongue. “That’ll have you anticipating what I’m going to do to you later.”
“Teasing bastard.”
Troz winked. “Don’t take your sexual frustrations out on our sex-toy until I return.”
“I might.”
He kissed Lyx hard. “You won’t.”
“I might even record what I do to Sanja so you’ll squirm over what you missed.”
“You won’t.” Not that Troz would care if he did.
Troz tapped his fingers against his wristband and teleported from the room, straight into the entry-zone of Sybil’s demon doorway. The brown-haired witch seated on a stool at the cash register in her cluttered shop of sorcery was Sanja’s mother. The irony. Because of his history with the witch, he never would’ve guessed the two were related.
Without turning to face him, Sybil said, “You here with news about my daughter.”
“Do you have customers?”
“I’ve not opened for the day.” She turned to face him. With Sybil’s brown hair, brown eyes, and olive complexion, she and Sanja didn’t even favor.
Troz strode across the room to double-check the locks on the door.
“I expected Horace to make an appearance.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze sharp. “Not you, Troz.”
To think they’d asked Sybil to bear them a child and now they claimed her daughter…the paradox! “Horace is incapacitated.”
She clucked her tongue at him. “Polite way of saying you’re torturing him. Fuck him over for me too, will you?”
He admired Sybil’s lust for vengeance, which was so unlike Sanja. “You’re daughter is safe.”
“Just to verify you’ve got the right girl, what is her name?”
“You call her Erica.”
“What do you call her?”
Troz gave her a flat smile. A demonic name held power, and while he doubted Sybil could use magic to bring Sanja back to her earthly domin
ion, he wasn’t taking any chances. “You know how this works, Sybil. Only the chosen may cross out of Baal alive, your daughter is not one of the chosen. Using your magic to snatch her back will end in your daughter’s death.”
Sybil shrugged, which meant they were at a gulf.
“She’s blocked to you anyway.” The slave-band would render Sanja invisible to everyone, including her parents. “Souls have exchanged hands, she’s been delivered to her owners, and has been fucked repeatedly.”
The witch bristled, and her hand resting on the counter fisted until her knuckles whitened. “I knew she’d cross, but not like this. Who has her, Troz?”
“That’s not important to you.”
“It’s very important to me!” She slammed her fist on the counter. “I’m her mother. I want her to be taken care of. I want her happy, and the only way she’s going to ever find those is if she’s with her men.”
“Do you know their names?”
Silence lingered between them. He suspected she gauged her words carefully. “I know what her men look like.”
Troz leaned against one of her showcases. “Do you have the ability to craft a magical photo of them?”
“Will you give me their names if you recognize them?”
Conversation with Sybil was never dull. “No.”
“Troz, this is my daughter!” She massaged her temples with her fingertips. “You of all people should understand. You want your own child.”
Unwilling to budge even a little, mostly out of fear Sybil would come after Sanja and somehow succeed in taking her back, he said, “I’m not known for my compassion.”
“You’re a callous asshole.”
Callous…oh, yeah, he could definitely live up to that description.
He presented her with a tight grin. “You’ll have to trust this asshole when I say she’s being well taken care of.”
They stared at one another a long while, until she finally looked away. She opened a drawer on her right and withdrew an opal ring. “This was Erica’s grandmother’s ring. Will you see that she gets it so she has something from her family with her?” She extended her arm, with the ring nestled in the palm of her hand. “Something to pass along to her own children.”
“No.” She has a new family now, forgetting Sybil would benefit Sanja’s future. Neither could he discount the possibility that Sybil had enchanted the jewelry.
Sybil’s jaw hardened. “Is that a no because you can’t or won’t?”
“Take your pick, the outcome’s the same.”
“All you demons are so goddamned difficult.”
Troz had nothing to say to that.
She hooked her hair behind an ear. “If you won’t give me any assurances to her welfare—”
“I told you she is in good hands.”
“Pardon me if I don’t believe you!” Slipping off her stool, she came around from behind the cash register and approached him. “I want proof of her safety or I’m contacting her father.”
Anger flared, buzzed in a red haze across his vision. Her mouth opened, and her eyes widened fractionally. He hoped he maintained his frabricated image, but he had difficulty controlling his magic when angry. “Try to remove her from Baal, Sybil, try it.”
Leaning against the counter, she held his glare without flinching. “You and Lyx own her.” It was more a statement than a question, and she didn’t seem to require an answer. While running her fingertips along her forehead, she exhaled slowly. “Thank God. I’d hoped, but didn’t want to come right out and ask. Can’t screw with fate, you know.” She gave him a wan smile, and he was left sputtering for something to say. “Did you know she was my daughter when you bought her?”
“Yes. That has no bearing on why I’m here. At the request of a…friend, I’m here to provide you with some comfort.” After Sanja awoke the last time the prior evening, she’d wept in his arms. Thinking she pined for her former life, he’d grown angry. After he’d forced her to explain she admitted she worried her mother fretted about her welfare. Only when he’d realized she hadn’t cried because she wanted to return to her life had his temper calmed. If the situations had been reversed, he could understand her feelings. He’d comforted her the only way he knew how, by rolling her to her back and eating her pussy. Sometime afterward, while she slept and he and Lyx took turns cuddling with her, he decided a visit to Sybil was finally due. He’d promised Jakira anyway, so now seemed like the perfect opportunity. Not that he had any intention of letting Sanja know what he’d done. “Your daughter is safe. Believe that or don’t, it’s up to you.”
“You dropped your magic for a few seconds when I rattled you.” She smirked.
Shit. He’d suspected he had.
“I always knew the stuffy accountant you presented wasn’t your real appearance. For the record, the real you is much more appealing. And, more importantly, one of the two men I saw Erica with. I assume the purple-skinned demon is Lyx’s genuine looks?”
He considered not answering the question, but ultimately decided no harm would come from the admission. “Yes.”
“Then she’s where she belongs.” Sybil wound her hair into a bun on the back of her head and secured it with a pencil. “She saw you once when she was about four or five. You were too busy ranting about me selling a product to some idiot that didn’t know how to use it.” Troz remembered the time. “She recognized you right off, calling you ‘mine’. I performed a spell on her to make her forget you because she was obsessed with you after that. Had to do something, but she still should’ve innately recognized you. I bet you had no real trouble out of her either.”
He tilted his head to the side and studied the witch. “Why didn’t you inform me? I could’ve taken her then, acclimated her to Baal easier.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ask me that question again after you have a child of your own.”
Placing his forearms on the counter, he pondered her meaning. He guessed she implied she hadn’t wanted to part with her offspring so early. Best to change the topic. “Know where I can find art supplies for Sanja?”
Sybil elevated her eyebrows. What about his question surprised her? “I have some in the back. I always kept them in stock for Erica.”
Fuck! He didn’t miss the severe enunciation of Sanja’s birth name, and the fact that he’d slipped up and given her Sanja’s new demonic name. With a shrug, he tossed her a lopsided grin. What was done was done. “You purchased art supplies for a magic shop?”
“That girl of mine is a damn fine artist. I kept her stocked so she never ran out. You can have my entire supply.” She crooked her finger at him to follow her to the back of the store. She pushed open a door and they entered a supply room. Sybil opened a huge bag and loaded it with spiral bound notebooks that had ‘sketchpad’ written on the cover. Several other various cases went inside. “I don’t have the supplies for paint, but if she wants them—or if you want me to get them—I can.” She handed him the bag. “You want me to keep her supplied with this stuff the way I do Lyx cigars and tea and you coffee?”
“Yes.” Thinking of how much Sanja enjoyed coffee, he said, “Double my coffee order.”
“Spoiling her with art supplies and coffee.” Sybil’s stare left him feeling exposed.
Troz tried to play it cool and shrugged.
She apparently didn’t buy his nonchalant demeanor. “You’re going down, Troz.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Nothing much. Drop the bullshit façade”—she made a circular motion with her finger indicating his face—“and I’ll show you Erica’s artwork.”
“You have some?”
She sent him a ‘you’re an imbecile’ look. “I’m a proud mother.” She seemed to think that explained everything. He had no idea what being a proud parent had to do with anything. “Maybe I’ll give you one or two. Consider it a wedding gift.”
Those pieces of artwork would cost him a fortune. No witch worth her title did anything for free. He hoped he kept his fe
atures bland, because he desperately wanted to possess a piece of something Sanja had crafted. “We’re not married or getting married. Why would I want to pay your price for one when I own the artist?”
“Own?” Her laughter pealed in the tiny room.
Sybil insinuating that he didn’t own Sanja irritated him. “I bought her. That means I own her.”
“Clueless. Totally clueless,” she muttered as she wrapped her hand around his arm and guided him out of the room and down another hall. After she pushed the door open, she motioned for him to enter. When he didn’t precede her into the room, she pointed to the opening. “The heart of the woman you own is inside.”
“How do you mean?”
“Just go in and look. You’ll understand.”
Giving her an expression full of disdain, he strode into the room. And discovered a space dedicated to Sanja’s artwork. Pencil drawings and paintings covered the room, all framed. And every one of them dark and twisted, depicting monsters that rose from the soil with half-torn pieces of demons in their mouths. A black crystal pyramid that looked a lot like the one in Baal. Then there was the pencil drawing of a woman that looked eerily like his Queen, Jakira. The photo that captured his attention, however, was the silhouette of three individuals, two obviously male. Only the woman’s naked back was depicted, but in her arms she cradled an infant while the profiles of the two males peered at the wee one she snuggled.
His breath froze in his lungs and he strode straight to the sketch. The profiles of the men looked an awful lot like him and Lyx.
He didn’t realize Sybil approached until she spoke. “Tell me do those men look as if they own her or as if they’re in love with her?”
In all honesty he wasn’t certain. As a kneejerk reaction, he said, “Demons can’t love.”
Sybil snorted.
While the expressions were detailed, and what he saw was definitely more than ownership, he had no foundation with love to give a candid estimation. The metal plate at the bottom of the picture titled it as ‘Our First Born’.
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