by Rae Foxx
Birth of a Demon
Queen of Abaddon, Book One
Rae Foxx
Text Copyright ©2020 by Rae Foxx
The Series, characters, names, and related indicia are trademarks and © Rae Foxx.
All Rights Reserved.
Published by Market Street Books
No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For Information regarding permission, write to:
Rae Foxx at [email protected]
Production Management by Market Street Books
Printed in USA
This Edition, June 2020
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Afterword
Also by Rae Foxx
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About the Author
Every five hundred years, Archangels and Fallen must live a life as a human.
1
"That's not right!" I yelled at the TV. "He left fingerprints on the counter, are you just gonna ignore that?"
With a huff, I looked down at my nails. I'd smudged them in my ire at the true crime show. "Damn," I muttered.
The distant buzz of the lawnmower grew louder as my husband drove it toward the house. He'd be another half hour out there, just enough time for my nails to dry.
Using a cotton swab, I cleaned off the nail and started again with a base coat. Having pretty nails had always been important to me. Maybe because my mom had always bitten hers, and I'd strived all my life to do things better than my mom.
Blowing on the polish, I watched the detectives finally put the obvious together. "I don't know why I watch this shit, but I love it," I said. Talking to my stomach was my norm these days, but I wasn't a lunatic. Just pregnant. And maybe a little bit of a lunatic.
The baby kicked in response to my conversation. "Oh, you like talking to Mama?" I chuckled and applied the first coat of jet-black polish. My favorite.
"Well," I said in a cutesy voice, something I'd never imagined I'd do. Cutesy and I didn't get along much. Until now. Having a baby had turned me into a blithering—well, mom. Not an idiot, even on my worst day I wasn't that. But I'd also never expected to be a mom, so this had been a pleasant surprise.
"Your Daddy will be inside soon," I told the baby. We'd opted not to find out the sex. The surprise and subsequent shopping would be a blast. I'd picked up one outfit for the baby to wear home from the hospital, and we'd bought enough clothes in yellow and other neutral colors to last us a week or two. Then we would be able to shop, I did most of my shopping online anyway.
It wasn’t like the baby would care. All they'd care about was that they'd get all the love and acceptance in the world.
Lucian and I were over the moon about the pregnancy. I sat up in my recliner and peeked out of the window at him. He was halfway done with the front yard and had already finished in the back. He'd be done just in time for a shower, then a quick bowl of the soup from the slow cooker, then off to choir practice.
The baby kicked again, reminding me I was supposed to be talking to them. "Sorry, Bubula," I crooned, using a pet name my mother had used for me. "Mommy is still here."
The baby rolled around, delighting me with the movement. "You'll be out here soon, and you'll see why I think your dad is so awesome." Ten more weeks, if I made it to my due date. The doctor said I could go over, given it was my first pregnancy. I hoped not. However, I didn't want my little one to come too early either and have difficulties. But I also couldn't wait to meet them.
I hummed and finished my nails with one eye on the show I'd seen several times before, but still I learned something new every time I watched it. My work as a beauty blogger wasn't particularly strenuous, it allowed me time to pursue leisurely pleasures like television shows, reading, and crafts. And my favorite thing, exercise. And why did I love to exercise? Simple. I loved to eat. Fucking loved it. To keep the pounds at bay, I kept a regular exercise regimen including swimming, yoga, and running.
I didn’t have a lot of time for goofing off. Staying on top of beauty trends, new products, as well as creating and editing my videos took nearly as much time as Lucian did at his day job.
A sharp movement made me grunt. "My gosh, baby, which way are you facing?" They'd either punched or kicked my bladder. I struggled out of the recliner and made my way to the bathroom, wiping very carefully so I didn't smudge again.
When I realized how far away my underwear was, given my belly and the strain it took to bend over, I just left them off. Wasn't worth the trouble. I kicked them into the corner of the bathroom where a small pile of dirty clothes rested. Lucian would get them later and put them in the wash. He washed and dried, and I folded. Our deal, because he hated to fold clothes.
Which was fine with me because he was really bad at it.
As I waddled into the kitchen, I inspected my nails. Damn, I'd smudged one.
Instead of repainting it, I licked it and sure enough, the nail smoothed out.
"Ha," I told the rogue nail. "Fixed you."
"Connie? Who are you talking to?" Lucian's voice scared the piss out of me—almost literally.
I jumped and whirled around, moving faster than I'd moved in quite a while. "Damnit, Luc, you scared me. I almost peed."
He burst out laughing as he walked to the sink. Turning on the water, he washed the grime off his hands.
"You should do that in the garage," I scolded. "That's why we have a utility sink in there."
He blanched. "Sorry, Princess. I wasn't thinking. I took my boots off on the back porch. I'll clean them off after choir practice."
His jeans were covered in grass, and he'd tracked it in. "Go strip in the laundry room." I pointed to the big utility room off the kitchen. Luc saluted me and tiptoed out of the room. I grabbed the broom, which I'd left leaning against the corner of the fridge and cleaned up the grass. When bending over had become nearly impossible, I'd bought a dustpan with a long handle, but Lucian rarely let me use it. He said it was my job to make a baby and do whatever made me happy.
Nesting made me happy, so I'd cleaned and organized the entire house. I'd had to switch to doing it while he was at work or else he hovered over me, trying to do it all.
The man was a saint.
He ambled out of the utility room in his black boxer-briefs, and I raised an eyebrow. My husband’s physique had grown larger and bulkier as time went by and he continued working out. He enjoyed exercise as much as I did and maybe even more, but he was more into weights than cardio. I loved all the ridges and planes on his large body.
I wolf-whistled at him, eliciting a deep chuckle. "You like what you see?" He flexed his muscles and wiggled his eyebrows at me.
"Too sexy for words." After blowing him a kiss, I giggled as I watched his black hair fall into his eyes since he hadn't fixed it yet. He normally gelled it and dried it in a way that looked natural and out of his face. He blew it away and turned for the stairs. "Be right back."
I
loved that he took care of his appearance without moving into the feminine area. He was all masculine, but he also smelled nice and had great hair. My kind of man.
I had a friend whose husband believed a man should have a natural, musky smell that came from infrequent showers and hard work.
No, thanks. Not in this lifetime or any other.
He climbed the stairs one at a time, flexing and wiggling his butt on his way up. "Go on, you ham!" I called after him.
When he was out of sight, I turned to our dinner in the slow cooker, making sure it was set to warm, then scurried up behind him.
My pregnancy had moved to a stage where I became horny at random points during the day and right now was no exception. Watching him walk across the kitchen had been enough for me.
It wasn't easy going quickly up the stairs behind him, and he heard my exertion.
"What are you doing?" He stopped at the top of the stairs and waited for me.
"I want some of that body." I wiggled my hips when I finally reached the top. "Care to scratch my itch?"
Lucian burst out laughing and gathered me into his arms. "Gladly, little wife. I love seeing your body like this."
"That is a wonderful thing to say to a woman that is as big as a house." I appreciated his words, even if he was probably saying them just to make me happy. He loved me enough to fib a little. Or, he truly meant them, which made him even more so the best lover and husband ever. Just as he would be the best father.
Mine was truly a charmed life.
I followed him into our ensuite bathroom. He turned on our shower while I undressed, my heavy breasts falling out of my bra and resting on my stomach. The baby was high in my abdomen, giving me a prominent belly that was a fantastic shelf. I liked to rest things on it like bowls of cereal.
And my tits.
Lucian turned to me, then slid his hands under my heavy globes, lifting them and caressing as he skimmed his thumbs across the peaks.
One of the first signs of the pregnancy had been my nipples darkening. The baby books said it was normal and Lucian had thought it was sexy.
"I could caress your boobs all day," he whispered.
I snorted. "I'd kill you."
After a while, sexy turned to irritating because my nipples were that sensitive. I hadn't been able to let him touch them for weeks and weeks, much to his dismay. He loved the look of them, dark and full, and he couldn't touch.
"At least I can do this now." He bent over and pushed his underwear down. He already had an erection, and it fell, pointing toward my knees as he captured one of my nipples in his mouth. Sucking with the gentlest motions, he pulled a moan from my throat. "That's good," I whispered.
He didn't give that nipple too much attention, instead switching to capture my other nipple in his mouth while using his fingertips to tease my now wet nipple. My head dropped back from the sensations of the heat from his mouth and the cooler air from the room. The feeling was almost unbearably delicious. I could almost taste it.
I tried to reach for his erection, but my belly was too big. I couldn't stroke him while he had his mouth at my chest.
He straightened up and pressed his hips into my hand. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft. My fingers barely wrapped around his girth, but he fit just well enough for me to stroke up and down his long length.
With a moan, Lucian bent sideways to work around my belly and bury his fingers in my core.
"Damn." He grinned at me. "You're soaked."
I didn't reply. It was too hard to focus on keeping up a rhythm on him while he went straight for the deepest part of me, where he knew he'd drive me wild.
I parted my legs the best I could to give him room to slip two more fingers in. It wasn't easy to hold myself upright while he worked his magic, bringing an almost instant orgasm out of me. My knees weakened and I had to let go of his dick and clutch his shoulders, panting through a hard wave of pleasure.
"Move me to the shower," I said between my heavy breaths.
He braced me against the built-in stool in the corner, and ran his fingers down the length of my torso before plunging them deep inside me again. I just looked at him with my eyes hooded and held onto his shoulders, as I began to fall apart on wave after wave of pleasure. He leaned himself against the wall and quickened his pace bringing me to a violent orgasm that left me reeling and shaking. I'd never been happier that we'd installed the stool than during shower sex.
He continued to work the spot inside of me through my orgasm, making me jerk and cling to him with everything in me. I relished the waves of pleasure that crashed repeatedly through me every time he curled his fingers forward and applied the perfect amount of pressure.
Before my orgasm was complete, he gently pressed his fingers to my clit knowing it was extra sensitive... "Give me another one. I love hearing you pant in my ear when I make you come."
His words helped me, and I burst with pleasure. My orgasm was like tiny fireworks, throwing fire up my body one explosion at a time.
When I couldn't take another ignition of pleasure, I gasped in his ear. "Stop."
He helped me sink to my butt on the stool, gasping and riding out the last waves of pleasure as warm water sprinkled down on me from the shower head behind him.
I quickly took him in my hand and used the water rolling down his body to stroke his cock. Wrapping my lips around his head, I sucked him in. My gag reflex had been so sensitive lately, that I hadn’t been able to give him a good blow job. He deserved one and I wanted to make sure he got it while I was feeling up to it.
I'd always been so good at BJs, and I utilized all my experience—most of it learned on Lucian when we were far too young to be doing such things—to give him the best suck I could.
Drawing him deep down my throat, I bobbed my head on his dick until he scooted as far down my throat as I could get him. I couldn't quite get to his base, but I could get my hand wrapped around his base, and that was impressive if I said so myself.
Once I had him down my throat, I contracted my muscles to milk him and bring him all the pleasure I could. Pulling off him, I sucked as I moved back, then sucked harder to bring him down my throat again.
He ran his fingers through my hair as I did this. I knew this was just the build-up. When he began to moan, I knew he was much closer to reaching his climax, so I stopped playing around and got to work. Opening my jaw, I bobbed my head up and down on his dick. I opened again to let him pull out.
He got closer and closer to his orgasm, and near the end, he grabbed my head. I knew what he wanted. I relaxed my lips and let him fuck my mouth, using my tongue and inner cheeks to create pressure.
"Connie!" he cried as he came, shooting his hot cum down my throat as I swallowed like a champ. I hadn't been able to do that for a while, either. This third-trimester stuff was great.
When Lucian came down off his high, he took my hand and helped me to my feet.
With the sweetest touch, he lathered my hair and rinsed it. I washed my body quickly, then hopped out. "Wash yourself, big boy. I'm going to finish up dinner."
His chuckles followed me out of the bathroom. I dressed in a comfortable pair of leggings and one of his undershirts, which was several sizes too big on me. Well it was before my belly turned into a beach ball.
By the time he joined me downstairs, I stood at the counter, slow cooker open, dishing out a bowl. It was just warm enough and would need little time to cool before he could eat. “You’ve got a few minutes,” I said.
“Oh, good. I wanted to shoot off a couple of emails I didn’t get to before I left the office.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek and walked toward our home office.
Movement out the window had me jerking my gaze. I cried out as hot soup sloshed over my hand.
I scurried to the kitchen sink and held it under the tap as I looked out. I would've sworn someone walked past the window, but I couldn’t be sure. They seemed to have been moving so fast and I didn’t hear footsteps on the back porch.
&nb
sp; As the sting in my hand faded, I peered left and right, trying to figure out what in the world had gone past my kitchen window. I knew damn well I wasn't imagining things. I'd not been cursed with an overactive imagination.
Lucian was the one that was whimsical and silly at times. I loved that about him, even as I was thankful, I wasn't. He complimented me in so many ways. His sweet optimism to my cold cynicism.
Shutting off the water, I dried my hands and pushed my long, black hair over my shoulder as I leaned forward to look again.
There was nothing back there; still, I had to be sure.
After tiptoeing to the back door, I opened it slowly, wary of someone jumping out to scare me. Pregnancy brought a certain amount of paranoia with it, and I had no desire to be the next big news story. When I was sure there wasn't anyone near the back door, I stepped out onto the porch and looked around the backyard.
Empty.
"What the heck?" I rubbed my belly, comforting the baby that didn't need it at all. I needed it because I felt crazy.
I hadn't imagined it. "You're not losing it, Connie."
As I turned to go back in the house, an enormous brown owl launched out of our neighbor's barn.
"Holy shit!" I squinted against the dwindling rays of the sun as the owl rose in the sky then flew out of sight. It was possible that if it had flown by very close to the window, I could've mistaken it for someone walking by out of the corner of my eye.
It didn't sit right, though. The shape I'd seen, even though it had only been a split second, had been tall, like a person, though very bulky.