Every Witch Demon but Mine (Maeren Series Book 1)

by Mercedes Jade

  “Put me down,” she demanded. He looked stubborn about it, so she added, “Please.”

  His hands were on her ass again, lifting her up and off of him. He dragged it out, deliberately letting her brush against the hard evidence of his arousal.

  Her groan was muffled as quickly as it started, but he still let her drop gracelessly to the ground at the sound and jumped away.

  His eyes had not regained their focus yet, deep, dark pools of black. He took a step towards her to—

  “I didn’t get to shower,” she rushed to explain.

  He froze. He seemed to be holding his breath.

  She was panting next to him, looking a little gauche with her lack of control over her body.

  “The scent-enhancer was part of court protocols class. We all had to wear it.” She huffed her annoyance. “I got called away by Jill, and then it was time for this class. I had only enough time to change before the warm-up run started.”

  That all sounded very reasonable. He could nod. They would part their ways. She was scrubbing her neck as soon as she got back to the castle.

  He still hadn’t taken a breath.

  She didn’t know how long he could go without breathing. He had indicated it was a while when she choked him, however, and she was still breathing hard enough for both of them, her explanation rather long-winded.

  She waited, but he still didn’t say anything.

  Belatedly, her brain came back online. It reminded her that he needed air to speak. Air required breathing.

  Breathing meant scenting her.

  “It’s on the skin,” she explained. “They made us! It has to be on the skin to work and I forgot when I changed that it would still be there because I can’t smell—”

  “Every vampire . . . for miles. You ran. You sweated. Your pulse pounded with each of your steps to heat your scent. It carried with the sound of your racing heart as a beacon for any male to make a meal out of you.”

  So, she hadn’t started it, but that wasn’t going to be a good enough excuse when she was leaving vampire attracting pheromones all over the place.

  Daemon breathed a lot during that speech. The green rim of his eyes widened to normal. He clearly found anger and a bit of distance to be an excellent focus.

  Angry, hot demon.

  She needed to escape. “I will go shower and—”

  His growl cut that idea off quickly as he shifted to block her.

  Her weakened legs nearly gave out as she pivoted and stopped. That was fine with her. She wasn’t up to running back, really.

  “No, I’m going to fix this now,” Daemon said.

  His big body had a much longer reach than her feet could carry her fast enough. She felt like cornered prey again.

  Adrenaline began to creep back up her legs, slower now, that she hadn’t used the initial flood, prickling her to try to run.

  Dismal odds of escape were being shouted out by her traitorous brain since instinct had fled.

  He saw the indecision on her face and narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Come here,” he commanded. He pointed to the ground in front of his feet.

  He pointed . . . at his feet.

  The insult outraged logic and calculations of odds.

  She didn’t snarl at him. She also didn’t prostrate herself on the ground before him.

  She may have shouted something not very flattering.

  “Do you know how far it is to get back?” He sniffed the air with enthusiasm. “I say, you would get halfway before my scent from rubbing against you wears off and you start smelling like supper to everyone else again.”

  Was that what he’d been doing by holding her?

  What if he was right? Fighting another vampire off, openly, would draw too much attention to her.

  She swallowed a little too loudly before asking, as meekly as she could manage, “What do you want me to do about it?”

  Her ideas involved lots of hot water and soap. She expected him to tell her to wipe some foul mud or forest plant all over her neck, despite the risk of getting a nasty rash, to cover up the smell.

  Wouldn’t that please the courtiers?

  “I’ll lick you,” Daemon replied.

  In your Fantasies

  “What?” she shouted at Daemon in surprise.

  It was not a meek shout. There had been enough necking already.

  “Come here,” he said, instead of repeating his absurd notion of licking her.

  He dropped to his knees and pulled a pair of silver cuffs from his weapons belt, holding them out for her inspection.

  This was not covered by the 101 Useful Knots for Survival handbook.

  Nothing in her life had prepared her for this moment.

  Her brain shut down for a few seconds. Really, it was understandable. The sexy demon of her dreams had pulled out handcuffs and wanted to neck with her.

  “Put them on,” Daemon darkly commanded from his knees.

  She snarled, after all.

  He laughed at her snarl, and then he was up and in front of her so quickly that any pretence of her being in control of this situation died a sudden death.

  “Why the cuffs?” she asked, licking her lips again.

  “Handicap,” he answered as he clicked one very dainty-looking cuff around his right wrist and turned around, for her to cuff the other wrist behind his back.

  Oh, they were for him.

  She complied with his bondage request, tempted to leave his cuffed self behind while she walked back to get to that nice shower that she now needed to be cold.

  If only her brain didn’t start recalculating the odds that she could outrun him, cuffed.

  Some handicap.

  “So, get started,” she told his back.

  She even tilted her neck to facilitate access, sure that he couldn’t see her face if she was looking at the clouds.

  He was going to lick her. She was determined to hold still this time. Her cheeks heated as anticipatory seconds passed into a minute.

  “I said . . . handicap,” he drawled out slowly.

  She heard him drop. She chanced a look and he was lying on his back, with his cuffed hands propped under his pelvis.

  “Get down here,” he demanded impatiently while looking like he had all the time in the world, sprawled on the ground.

  She wanted to risk the mud and poison ivy.

  His eyes were eating up her blush and the painful nubs of her hardened nipples poking her shirt. An instant later, those eyes were back on hers, and daring her to make a run for it.

  They promised that when he caught her, she would be the one wearing the cuffs, under him, for the wasted effort.

  There wasn’t really a choice about if she was going to do this, but at least she could choose how to do it.

  She dropped to her knees. She awkwardly tried placing her hands to one side of his head. She twisted and turned, stretching her kneeling body over him to lean her neck close to his mouth. All while trying to maintain as much distance as possible.

  He nibbled her ear.

  “Pretty tasty but useless,” he told her ear. “Stop messing around and get properly over me,” he ordered, with another nibble that let her feel a trace of swollen fang.

  She nearly fell on top of him with that last nibble. He was playing with her.

  Fine, this was silly. She shuffled closer and placed one arm on either side of his head. Then, a leg over his hips, like it was no big deal to straddle him.

  Immediately, the intimacy of the position made her think of sex. She shut that fantasy down, thinking instead about all of those other witches Daemon had fed on this morning.

  He was glutted on blood and magic. It should be a turn off.

  “Get on with it,” she snapped at him, annoyance making her sharp.

  He kneed her in the butt, more of a nudge, but it had the desired effect of knocking her down. His mouth latched onto the offensive area of her neck, with a grunt at the forced contact.

  “Hey,” she prote
sted, more surprised by his move than pained.

  He held her firm between his teeth, not breaking the skin. The bite didn’t let up until she finally relaxed her body into submission.

  Her brain failed to sound the alarm at his threat and that worried her. She was getting too used to this demon near her neck.

  He began to lick. It was surprisingly pleasant.

  “Just hurry it up,” she said, not willing to let him think she was enjoying this.

  He was licking more than her neck, which was probably why he insisted on it. He covered every inch of her shoulders and chest that had been exposed to the spray. He didn’t nibble on her again, careful to keep his fangs clear.

  His tongue was gentle, giving warm, slow strokes to soothe her nerves as he applied himself to the task.

  This wasn’t quite as bad as she had imagined. Licking her neck couldn’t be mistaken as platonic but still, it was more comforting than arousing.

  She closed her eyes to help deal with his closeness.

  Warmth melted away worries.

  She smelled like she tasted, fiery and sweet. He couldn't get enough of her.

  The cuffs weren't a real deterrent, but they reminded him not to lose his head as he licked her drugged skin.

  She froze above Daemon. She had accidentally slipped into his thoughts.

  He didn't notice, still bathing her neck with his tongue.

  She knew it was risky to use her lightning while he touched her, but with what he was doing, she couldn't focus on blocking.

  The blood she tasted earlier was still messing with her barriers.

  Her skin was soft, pale as cream, and so easy to mark.

  He traced his tongue over the little nibbles he had taken earlier, tiny bruises that would disappear all too soon.

  He rubbed his unshaven chin against the hollow above her collarbone as he licked her higher up her neck, pricking a nice blush from her skin.

  “Are you sure you got all of it?” she asked, interrupting him from marking his territory both in reality and in her mind.

  Vampires, seriously! Did they have some sort of grading system for hickeys?

  A growl was her only answer.

  The cuffs had been a mistake. He’d controlled himself fine last night and could have licked the scent from her skin without fucking her in the woods.

  If she kept pulling away from his mouth and tempting him to flip her under him to finish the job, then the cuffs weren’t going to be much of a deterrent anyway.

  He was letting her feel a little fang again, possibly accidentally, but with her peek in his thoughts, she wasn’t sure how much control he had over his instincts.

  Despite the warning he’d unwittingly provided her, she pulled away, sitting up, out of his reach.

  “I’m not finished,” Daemon said.

  He curled himself, so she was straddling his lap as he sat up as well, bringing his fangs inches from her neck again. His bigger body still put him higher than her in this position.

  “I’m sure it's good enough,” she said, prepared to spring up and run.

  “I’ll tell you when it’s good enough,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

  Could he really catch her if she took a chance and ran? He was cuffed.

  “Sweetheart, it’s a terrible idea,” Daemon told her.

  Was he reading her mind back?

  She couldn’t stop herself from slipping into his thoughts to check.

  He was tenting under her spread thighs, just an inch or two from her pussy.

  Had she felt his arousal?

  If she sat down on his lap, she could grind her way to orgasm like she’d rubbed herself on his thigh on the balcony, and he wouldn’t complain.

  Maybe the sassy witch would like him to put his mouth to good use between her legs, instead of her neck?

  “Either I get all this scent off of you, or the next vampire who catches you out in the woods is going to eat you all up,” he warned her out loud.

  It wasn’t hard to picture Phillip as a wolf, with his beastly looks. At least, she was reassured that Daemon wasn’t reading her mind, only making good guesses at her thoughts.

  His dirty fantasies were going to prime them both beyond the point of return if he didn’t hurry this up.

  “I don’t have all day,” she said, straining to keep her voice smooth and unaffected.

  “Wrap your arms around my neck and I’ll finish,” he said.

  It was so reasonable, she couldn’t refuse.

  She looked at him and put her hands on his shoulders, sliding them up and around the back of his neck, until her fingers loosely linked.

  The lustful look he bestowed on her made her heart leap into her throat, fluttering against her carotid.

  “Let your head fall back,” he softly whispered. “I’m your claimed. I won’t hurt you.”

  The trust the position implied was immense. He knew it, but still demanded she give in to him.

  Demanding wasn’t the same as forcing.

  He was helping her.

  She shut her eyes against his dark gaze and let her head flop back, baring her neck to whatever he desired.

  Such a sexy little thing. She was still too low for him to take a proper nibble.

  “Need you higher, sweet—”

  She blindly shot up on her knees, with her head still back.

  Her pelvis hit his rock-hard abs. Her generous breasts bounced against his equally hard chest, a half-second later, and she swore she heard him cuss, although it may have been in his thoughts.

  She didn’t know anymore.

  Maybe she would reward him by letting him lick her breasts when he was done. Her nipples were spearing his chest, begging to be bitten and sucked.

  He didn’t need his hands to drive a witch crazy for him. A few more good licks and the scent would be dealt with, then he could focus on getting her to un-cuff him for his reward.

  “Are you going to lick me or not?” she asked, feigning boredom.

  He was right, her nipples were pushing against her shirt and scraping his chest with every breath she took.

  The stimulation was making the situation worse.

  “I’m going to suck the really stubborn part off,” he told her.

  Suck? Her eyes popped open, but she didn’t move her neck.

  That hadn’t been in his thoughts.

  “Is that really necessary?”

  “Absolutely. Try not to move,” he said. “If you don’t stay still, I’m going to have to suck longer.”

  Unlike licking, sucking was not in the least platonic. If she had thought he was priming her earlier with a few touches, then what he was doing to her neck now equalled lighting a fire under her libido.

  He didn’t have to worry about her pulling away, she had an iron grip on his neck and was using it to cling as close to his mouth as she could reach.

  Her skin was the drug.

  He had cleaned off the last of the scent enhancer, but he couldn’t release her from his mouth.

  He didn’t have his hands free, but his magic could touch her.

  A warmth licked up her thighs. It lashed her just like his tongue on her neck, not painful, but waking nerve endings she didn’t even know she had until he touched her.

  She could trace her fingers over where his fire touched, and it wouldn’t make her so instantly wet and aching for more, knowing only he had the power to give her body what it really needed.

  His strong, calloused hands parted her thighs as he coaxed her to open for him to eat her throbbing pussy, pushing his tongue against her clit as he licked, and sucked, and finger fucked—

  She forced herself to break off from his thoughts before he made her climax for real.

  How much was him and how much was her fantasy?

  He started sucking on the skin above her pulse. Each pull of his mouth felt like another stroke towards climax.

  Her magic called to him. It wanted her skin to be pierced, to let him taste her secrets.

&
nbsp; She whimpered. It was a tiny, desperate sound, ending with his name whispered as a plea.

  “Daemon . . .”

  He broke free of her skin with one last, wet suck. She straightened her neck and looked up at him.

  His eyes were pitch black, no discernible green left.

  They both stared at each other for a few endless moments.

  “Run,” he whispered.

  She needed a moment. Running would be very difficult.

  “Run. You practically bathed in that stuff, but this should be enough.” He bent and nipped her ear again when she didn’t move. “I will be right behind you,” he added.

  That sounded more like a threat than reassurance.

  “I can’t run . . .” she said, trailing off before she blurted out the reason why. “And you are handcuffed, so how . . . ?”

  “Run fast,” he said, not bothering to explain.

  She remembered the look in his eyes that promised he would handcuff her on her back if she disobeyed. Or maybe, if she was too slow . . .

  “Ten, nine, eight—”

  She stumbled back in her haste, jumped up, and fled.

  She heard the cuffs hit the ground before he reached zero.

  It turned out she could run very fast.

  Water Thinned Blood

  Victoria

  Victoria pretended to clean her nails with her dagger as she watched George look out of the window to see the witch running through the woods, with Daemon a few steps behind.

  Elizabeth was a hare, camouflaged by the forest, easy to miss if her fleet-footed escape wasn’t exposed by the flash of her white-blonde locks.

  “Do you think Daemon is going to catch her or just chase her around the whole castle?” George asked.

  He looked perturbed. It was not a good look on him.

  “She’s air, and a little breeze at that,” Victoria said, trying to distract her dangerous brother.

  She sat down on a chair and continued cleaning her nails as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Nothing to alarm him.

  George hated the mess, so she purposefully flicked her dagger like she was digging out the dirt and leaving it all over the couch.