by Marie Mason
His body emptied itself inside her. He could feel the hot jet of his cum leaving his body and coating her womb. He knew it wouldn’t take root and for a moment, his heart clenched, wondering what it would feel like to take a mate. A partner. Still, he felt as if he were giving her everything — his heart, his spirit, his very soul.
He sought the pleasure of her body again in the night, savoring her scent, languishing in the plush roundness of her body. He caressed her until she woke up in his arms, soft and warms and wanting. In minutes, she was a sobbing mass of need, begging him to take her. He turned her on her stomach and ordered her to grab the edge of the mattress as her luscious behind presented itself to him. For a moment, he debated taking her ass, pressing into the forbidden, dark entrance. Then the scent of her hot pussy called to him. Leaning forward, he ran his hands over her healing flesh. Already tiny pinpricks of bruising had appeared along her back. Her beautiful skin was marred because he had failed to protect her.
He bent forward, placing light, lingering kisses on every blemish. “I am so sorry, Kayley. So sorry you were hurt.” Once he was satisfied he’d attended her as best he could, he pressed her shoulders down, until he could cradle them in his hands.
He lined his cock up with her entrance.
“Ready, babe?”
“Yes.” Her voice was a soft whisper in the dark but it was all he needed. With one hard thrust, he was inside her again. In heaven. Such an ironic musing for a demon, but that’s what she felt like. Heaven. All lush and welcoming. Another thrust and he felt his control slipping already. He curled down over her, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her head to the side so he could find her mouth. Thrusting and mating.
“That’s it, Kayley. That’s it. Let me feel you come around my cock.”
Kayley lay on the bed with Roark’s big body above hers, his hips slamming forward again and again. His thrusts bordered on pain. It was accompanied with such an overwhelming rush of pleasure, she ignored it, pushing back to take more of him inside her.
Wow was the only word she could form in her fog-laden brain. His cock was a solid ridge of pleasure just for her. She clenched her pussy muscles, wanting to feel everything about him, about this. Their joining. She’d known once she gave herself over to her demon, there would be no turning back.
“Roark, please,” she pleaded to him. She needed him.
He let go of her hair, one hand sliding down her body. Where before she’d been hesitant to allow him access to her curves, now she begged him for more. He found her center, the split of her body, the nub of her need.
“Does my little witch want to come?” His mouth found the lobe of her ear, his breath hot and demanding. She widened the splay of her legs, giving him more room to take her. His fingers moved faster. His hips pounded harder and then she was there. There at the top of the mountain, her climax rushing up to overtake her.
“Roark!” She screamed his name over and over again, her voice harsh by the time her release had echoed through her. He was still hard inside her, still pounding at her convulsing pussy.
As he’d brought her to satisfaction, her knees had collapsed and she was now lying prone on the bed, his thighs straddling hers. She felt herself being moved, positioned like a puppet for his pleasure. He folded her legs beneath, hunching her into a tight ball, all the while keeping his cock plunging in and out of her depths. Now he was above her, tall and strong, her conquering Viking warrior.
Her demon from the depths of hell.
He took one of her hands and placed it beneath her where their bodies joined. She felt the silky slick slide of his cock as he thrust. “Rub yourself,” he ordered.
“No, I can’t.” Her protest was weak, but so was she. She felt boneless with satisfaction.
“Do it!” A sharp slap to her ass cheek accompanied his command.
She found her clit and started to pleasure herself. Each time he buried himself inside her, her hand caressed his length.
Roark’s control was slipping fast. He knew it, but couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to mark her, brand her in some way. He raised his hand and smacked her ass again. She flinched, but didn’t stop fingering herself. He felt the touch of her hand on his cock each time he took her and it added to his pleasure.
Again and again, he slapped her ass, turning her plump cheeks red. She moaned and her breathing grew labored. Her hips pressed back against him. He knew she would be the one who paid for their rough loving in the morning, but again, he couldn’t stop himself. He eased away, coating two of his fingers with her juices. Splaying his hand across the lower back, he pushed her down, making her ass come up and reveal the sweet, secret entrance of her body he had yet to enjoy.
“Come for me, Kayley. Come for me hard.” Without warning, he thrust his fingers into her ass. Her back entrance was tight, but gave beneath the pressure of his touch, the way eased by the juices of her cunt coating his fingers.
His name was a curse as she shook beneath him, her body collapsing on the bed, a shivering mass of sexual energy. He thrust into her and his seed sprayed from his body, so long and so hard his bones ached when he was done.
He pulled her to him, cuddling her at his side as their bodies cooled. Never had he felt such a need to hold a woman in his arms. As she drifted off to sleep, he realized his future was no longer as grim as he’d once thought.
Roark sat propped against the headboard with one arm behind his head, watching Kayley as she slept. She looked just like an angel, he thought, and he should know; he’d seen enough of them. He studied Kayley’s features, all soft and sweet from sleep. Not that she wasn’t sweet and soft when she was awake. She was. That and a whole lot more — sassy, sexy, sinful, seductive, sensuous… his.
He pushed the thought aside.
It was past midnight. He never slept much so the lateness of the hour didn’t bother him. She had fallen asleep after he’d taken her from behind. He’d stayed by her side, holding her in his arms. He’d grinned at the first soft snore she’d made.
He turned on the bedside light. He preferred total darkness; sometimes he even craved it, but not tonight. Tonight he wanted to see her, watch over her.
When she’d walked out of the bathroom, the soft gasp of her breath had gone straight to his groin. He hadn’t deliberately presented himself half-dressed — okay, maybe he had. He could command a change of clothes with a snap of his fingers. He wanted her to see him, desire him, lust for him.
Oh, yeah, he’d wanted the sweet witch’s body filling with lust.
She fascinated him for some reason and he regretted he didn’t have any more time to spend with her. His temperature rose right along with his dick as he thought of all he could teach her. The energy of his arousal filled the air.
And her sweet, sweet scent. Cherry blossoms, rain, sweet ripe peaches… all the things he missed in hell. And innocence. When was the last time he’d been in the presence of such innocence?
Never, his inner demon answered. Never.
He willed his dick to soften, and leaned back, trying to get comfortable on the hard hotel bed. He knew it was going to be a long, long night.
CHAPTER FIVE
“WELL, WELL, WELL, isn’t this an interesting turn of events.”
Roark bolted upright, instinctively reaching for Kayley as he faced the demonic presence in the hotel room. His vision was blurry and his mind lost in a fog of sleep. What the fuck was wrong with him?
His protective instincts settled when he realized it was his brother Remington standing at the foot of his bed. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d come to lend a hand helping you find Rafe. But I see you’re right on top of things.” He smirked and moved until he could prop himself against the small desk. He crossed his legs at the ankle and his arms across his chest. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt. There was no doubt Roark and he were brothers. All three Conroy brothers looked alike.
“There’s nothing you can do. Rafe is being the
shithead he always is.” Roark was the oldest, Remington the youngest and Rafe the middle child. The problem-making middle child. Always had been, probably always would be.
“Or, maybe, he’s got the right idea. Maybe it’s time we took back our lives.”
For a moment, Roark’s heart skipped a beat, thinking about how it could be. What last night had been… he didn’t have words to describe what he’d felt in Kayley’s arms. He just knew he could never have it again. And that made him damn angry. “It is what it is.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t tell me you’re buying into all this nonsense Rafe has been spouting for the last few months.”
Upon his return from a mission a few months ago, Rafe had acted more withdrawn than usual. Finally, he’d told his brothers what he’d discovered the last time he was up top. The soul he’d recaptured had been a librarian in the late 1800’s. Upon his escape, the man had made his way back to the library he’d overseen in merry ole England, only to discover it had been turned into condos. It hadn’t taken Rafe long to find him and send him back to hell. Or it wouldn’t have, if the man hadn’t told Rafe he could help him break the family curse — for a price. He would help Rafe if he allowed him to spend a month in the human realm so he could read all his favorite books once again.
Rafe had agreed and had come back home with a plan to break the curse. He hadn’t shared the details of how that curse could be broken. To be honest, Roark had been expecting a move like this on Rafe’s part. His brother was the stubborn one of the bunch.
He told Remington as much.
“You can’t tell me you don’t see some merit to his research now.” Remington nodded to the woman still sleeping on the bed. Roark wasn’t surprised she hadn’t awakened yet. Last night had been epic, and that was saying something coming from a demon.
It was something he could ever forget. He was a demon. A demon damned to the depths of hell for eternity.
He couldn’t have a woman. He loved his mother, but he’d never subject his wife to the hardship his parents had endured, being separated for such long stretches of time.
No, it was better if he ended this now. He got up and conjured a pair of jeans. He motioned Remington out of the room. They needed a plan.
Kayley startled awake, momentarily disoriented when she heard two male voices. Immediately, she recognized Roark’s. She checked the bedside clock. Three o’clock in the morning. Did demons ever sleep? She sat up, grimacing as her formerly unused muscles protested. What was the saying, wrung out and put up wet? That’s how she felt this morning — or rather the middle of the night.
Well-worn and definitely still wet.
She realized the men were standing outside the hotel room. The door was slightly cracked but she could only hear the low rumble of their voices, not what they were actually saying. She pushed the hair out of her eyes knowing she must look beautiful this morning. Not. Not only had she gone to bed with damp hair, she’d been twisted and turned every which way during the night.
Pulling the sheet up to her neck, she started to panic. This morning-after thing could go one of two ways. He’d simply ignore her and never refer to what had happened last night, or, he’d insist they do it again.
Her body liked the last idea. It was safe to say she’d experienced the most pussy-clenching, heart-wrenching, beautiful sex in her life. She wasn’t very experienced, but it didn’t take a fallen woman to know when the man in her bed was good. Damn good.
She shifted as her body picked up the throbbing rhythm of last night just thinking of Roark’s skill set.
She wanted him again. No surprise there, but how to handle it?
Keeping one eye on the door, she scooted off the bed with the sheet wrapped halfway around her torso. She did a fast two-step to the bathroom door, sighing in relief when she made it without them hearing her.
“Kayley?”
She jumped at the sound of her name, especially when it was spoken in the higher octave of a woman.
“Mom?” She looked around the room. Nothing. “Where are you?” As far she knew, no one in her family had mastered the art of teleportation.
“Down here.”
Kayley looked down. There wasn’t any water or any other device her mother could have used to contact her. Except…
“Eww,” she said as she took a step forward. There in the toilet was her mother’s smiling face.
“Mom! How could you?” This was more than embarrassing. What if her mother had tried to scry when she’d been using the bathroom, or worse yet, if Roark had.
“Kayley Angela Anderson, don’t take that tone with me. You are the one in trouble.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Didn’t Wanda tell you what happened?”
“Yes, she did. She said you were kidnapped by a demon.”
“Yep. That about sums it up.” Her face broke into a wide smile. No way was what had happened so easily explained away. Especially not what had happened between her and Roark last night. She couldn’t exactly use the L word yet, but she was close. Very, very close.
“You’re lucky I managed to talk your father out of forming a search party and coming after you.”
Oh, she was a lucky witch all right but not because of that. She was lucky because she’d had the pleasure of Roark in her bed. She shivered thinking of him between her legs, his wide shoulders holding her open for his touch. The man had some serious oral skills going on.
“But you weren’t worried?”
“Of course I was, darling, but Hayley assured me you were safe.”
Her younger sister was usually discrete in what she shared about her visions. She figured Hayley hadn’t told her family too much since her father wasn’t her knocking on the hotel door.
She heard the hotel door close. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll be home tonight.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“If you don’t, I’m sending your father after you. No matter how handsome your demon is.” Her mother smiled before blowing her a kiss. “Have fun, Kayley.”
Kayley's eyes opened wide. Her little sister had a lot to answer for if she’d told their mother about Roark. She pushed down on the toilet bowl handle and flushed. Her mother’s image swirled out of sight.
A knock sounded behind her, making her jump again. Damn it, couldn’t a girl get a moment of privacy? Before she could answer, the door opened and Roark was in front of her. In all his glory. He had on a pair of jeans this morning, but no vest. The sight of his chest was enough to get a girl’s juices flowing. In an instant, she was more than wet, willing, and able to continue where they had left off last night.
Roark opened the bathroom door cautiously. He wasn’t sure what he expected, maybe Kayley dressed and ready to go. That was the usual sequence of events of one-night stands. Fuck, fuck again, and say goodbye. With Kayley, he need to add a couple thousand more fucks – and heaven help him, he had no desire to say goodbye. He certainly didn’t expect the curvy goddess to be wrapped in a bed sheet, with her long, auburn hair falling in a sexy disarray across her face and over her shoulder. Damn, she looked good enough to eat.
Licking his lips, he sought the lingering flavor of her pussy. His body craved her sweet honey again.
But he couldn’t.
Could he?
No. No. No. No. The word pounded over and over again in his head.
The night before meant nothing more to him than a thousand other nights before. He’d been having casual sex since he figured out how to put rod A into slot B. Casual. No commitments. Pleasure for the sake of pleasure.
He had to tell her. Their getting together hadn’t been a mistake exactly…
Just not something to be repeated.
His dick hardened behind the zipper of the jeans. The sharp pinch of pain penetrated his confused mind.
“Who were you talking to?” she asked.
One of her hands pushed the mass of hair out of her eyes. The movement caused the sheet she wore to pull acr
oss her chest. Her nipples stood at attention, straining against the thin fabric. The action was nearly more than he could stand and his cock demanded he take notice. He shifted, trying to hide his body’s response.
“My brother. He’s tracing after Rafe.”
“Oh.”
Yeah, a big fat oh. That meant he no longer needed her. His heart stopped beating for a split second at the thought. But what else could he do? His brother was on the case now.
“Why didn’t he go after him before? From the beginning?”
“He was on assignment. He just got back last night. Rafe’s escape is the talk of the town down there.”
“I would imagine so.”
“He’s the first demon to try to break a contract.”
She tilted her head, looking at him. “I take it you don’t believe it can be done.”
“No. We are who we are. Under the curse of a witch.”
Her head fell forward in defeat. “I’m sorry, Roark.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it. Nothing anyone can do about it. Get dressed and I’ll take you home.”
They rode across town in the stolen truck. She tugged at the hem of the shorts he’d given her this morning after he’d had ‘the talk’ with her. “Won’t you get in trouble conjuring all this stuff for me? For us?” She hadn’t missed the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing. She missed the leather.
He turned his head to look at her and just as quickly turned his attention back to the road. “No. Why do you ask? Do you need something else?” For a moment, the desire to please her seemed to flash through his dark eyes.
“Umm, no. It’s just that witches… sometimes if a witch uses her power for personal gain, it has a way of backfiring.”
Her words made him smile. “Is that what happens to you? Was trying to calm me down for personal gain?”
She ignored his question, her cheeks flushing. “No, it’s more for things like new clothing or jewelry or a new car.”