by A. K. Koonce
The length of my hair waves as my head jerks back and forth involuntarily.
Nope. She’s still there.
I glance down at Damien’s towel, and I refuse to note that there’s not a hint of a hard outline below his hips.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Did I pick the only guy in all of the Kingdom of Roses who can’t fuck me? This is far worse than being cursed with iron blood.
“Why? Why didn’t you just sell your soul or something less valuable than your cock?” I word-vomit my thoughts out, and he nods his head as if he agrees completely in this terrible moment we’re both suffering through.
Shit.
My eyes open, and I hate what I’m about to do right now.
“Don’t judge me, okay?” I say.
His head tilts, but he doesn’t seem to know what to say.
“And leave. You should probably leave before he comes.”
“He who?” He dips his head to force me to meet his eyes, but I still look to where the droplets of water are sliding down the silver drain.
“Krave,” I say with a sigh desperate for relief. “Krave. Krave!” I say his name three times like a nasty curse.
Just as I had the first time I accidentally summoned an incubus.
8
Demonic Encounters
Damien
Every bizarre thing this woman has done since I met her is nothing compared to this. I can feel the ominous sensation of her words as her whisper fans across my chest. It’s a feeling. Dark magic is an energy all its own. The hair on my arms lifts with a knowing warning that I should listen to.
I should listen to her as well. I should leave. Now.
But I can’t let her go. I can’t leave her alone to face all of this when she’s already so weak from whatever’s inside her.
Inky glittering smoke wafts up from the drain. The fumes thicken little by little.
Until a demon with pure iron-colored eyes gazes upon her with a hungry look. He sits on the far edge of the bathtub, one long leg thrown lazily over the other. Slashing, chaotic tattoos line his chest, arms, and fingers. Symbols are scrawled along his knuckles and the only one that catches my attention is a royal crown on his middle finger. A thin bar pierces through his inky brow. Glinting fingers tap against his knee in the strangest sight. It’s like his fingertips are dipped in the fine particles of crushed black gemstones. His stark leathery wings behind him gleam with the same shimmering effect.
“I missed you too, Aries,” is the first cocky thing he says, with a smile like death carving his smooth features.
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask. I’m seated behind her but my palms slide across Ari’s curves and I try to shield her shaking body with my own the best I can.
“She said my name three times, love. Do try to keep up.” His big eyes never leave the naked woman in my arms. “You surprised me for my birthday with a threesome, Aries? You are so sweet.” He lowers himself so slowly, it’s like a snake dropping from the sky.
“It’s not your birthday, Krave,” she whispers with a dying sort of breath.
“Every day’s my birthday when I’m with you,” he says in the most charming way that makes me distrust him even more.
He extends his hand slowly. My gaze is so wide, I’m assessing every move the two of them make. Every sweeping look he gives her, every desperate breath she takes. Every. Single. Inexplicable thing.
And then, she slides her palm into his. A gasp like a choked moan skims over her lips, and now I’m watching her just as much as he is.
“Tell me where it hurts, love,” he coos to her, pulling her close until I’m forced to slowly release my hold on her small body. I sink down behind her in the tub.
I can’t tear my gaze away from her as she takes his hand and slides it down her chest, over her navel, and right down between her hips. My eyebrow arches, but I don’t look away.
Long silver hair sweeps over her slender back as her head tips up toward the wooden beams above, and a sound like pure ecstasy leaves her shaking in his arms.
“Lie back. Let me take care of you,” he says in a calming tone.
Simply from the sound of his voice, I almost believe he will.
When her body lowers, her soft wings slide against my chest, and I’m so lost right now, I just hold her like a fucking creep watching the two of them while wishing I could be him.
I fucking hate myself in this moment. More than my father ever could.
“Damien.” My name rasps from her mouth, accompanied by the most uncontrollable moan as he fucks her harder with his hand.
Did I say hate? I meant fucking despise. I despise myself right now. Self-loathing is at an all time high currently.
She looks up at me with a mixture of guilt and lust in her pretty features.
“Please leave,” she gasps, withering in my hands, her back arching from me as her hips thrust against him.
I should go.
“Don’t go,” the demon says with wild, sinister eyes.
He’s alluring. His tone, his shirtless body, even his gaze exudes this demanding, intriguing essence. Someone like him just reminds me why seraphs are forbidden to mingle with other supernaturals.
“Kiss her,” he whispers darkly like a faint voice in the back of my mind.
I glance from him to her, and her hooded eyes drift slowly to my lips.
It isn’t a hard choice.
Even if it is suggested by the worst person I should never take advice from.
My head dips, and she lifts to catch my mouth with hers.
The delicious sounds she makes against me change the way I hold her. My palms settle more firmly against her damp skin, and my fingers sweep up to roll across her pebbled nipple until she’s kissing me harder and deeper.
I want more. I want more than I’ve wanted in over a year.
And it has nothing to do with the sex-fueled atmosphere, and everything do to with the beautiful woman lying in my lap.
My palm pushes lower and my fingers slide ever so slowly down her folds. Wet fingers glide over mine, and the moment I touch him, unimaginable lust bursts through my chest.
“Fuck,” I growl against her mouth. The lowest rumbling laughter hums around the room from the demon across from me.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, Fallen?”
Her body goes taut in my arms, and she slams her head back against my shoulder with the sexiest fucking sounds coming from her swollen parted lips. I can’t take my eyes off of her as her release trembles through every part of her perfect body.
A hand grips the edge of the bathtub right next to my shoulder, and his skin slides against mine as he holds himself above us like a creature of the night preparing to devour its prey. I look up and meet those wild black eyes of his. He searches my face, his attention dipping to my lips before he leans closer, closer.
And then hovers his lips over hers, never touching, never kissing, but something much more intimate passes between them when he takes a deep breath.
She lifts to meet him, but he never seals their lips. Instead, flecks of glittering black and glowing gold syphon from her gasping mouth. The colors twirl between them, and the demon’s eyes flutter shut as he inhales what she gives him with a groan that even I feel deep inside.
For a single fleeting moment, I think he’s draining her of life. He must be stealing her soul or eating her sins.
But the animalistic growls and the strain of his cock against his dark jeans tells me he isn’t taking sinister things from her at all.
He’s taking her orgasm.
I sit there, a stunned and overly watchful audience of the sexual push and pull between them.
Her trembling fingers fist through his inky locks. As much as it seems like the demon wants to kiss her, his hard muscles strain to keep a safe amount of space between their parted lips.
The glimmering light from within her fades to a dim hue before the flecks of black and gold dissolve against the man’s tongue.
Then sh
e goes slack against me. Her head drops, and she’s entirely soundless in my arms.
But she isn’t dead.
“What—what the fuck did you just do to her?” I finally manage a sharp whisper.
The demon wipes his lips slowly as if he’s finished a meal and is now remembering the savory taste.
“Aries and I have a special friendship,” the guy says to me like a total fucking creep.
And he’s still holding himself above me like a total fucking creep.
I mean . . . I guess I did just third-wheel watch the two of them get each other off, so I suppose I don’t have much room to talk.
“You fuck her often?” I ask carefully.
Is she with him?
Why did she come on to me if she was with him?
She was desperate.
That hits my ego so hard I feel it in my gut.
I haven’t been with anyone in so long, she would only want me if she was desperate.
“I’ve never fucked her. Our relationship is not about fucking.”
My lips part as I blink through that statement.
“She called your name, and you came running just to literally finger-fuck her into unconsciousness. How exactly would you describe your relationship?” I say.
And why the fuck are we still all half-naked and tangled together like this?
A heavy breath pushes from my lungs, and I shove a hand through my nearly dry hair.
“It’s business, love. You ever tasted dark lust?” He asks as he leans closer, his arm brushing against mine once more.
His iron gaze is so hooded, all he’s focused on is my lips.
What’s sad is my cock hasn’t been hard in over a year, and I really do want to know how her orgasm tastes against his lips.
It’d be reckless and wild, just like she is.
But this guy’s a sick fuck for doing business like this with her.
“Get the fuck off me,” I finally whisper in a tone that trembles just slightly.
His smile is a carving slash against his arrogant lips. He shrugs a shoulder before shoving back and climbing out of the empty bath. When he stops there and pulls her limp body from my arms, I’m surprised by how much care he puts into cradling her against him.
“Got a towel?” he asks with the first ounce of seriousness I’ve seen from him since he breezed his ass into my life.
I make my way over to an intertwined rack of vines that hold white towels and washcloths. My gaze rakes across her round breasts and the valleys and dips of her body before slowly covering her up the best I can.
The smirking heat of his gaze is felt against my face. I glance up to him and his knowing, obnoxious smile.
“Tell me why you didn’t fuck her, and I’ll tell you why I didn’t, either,” he says as I open the door for him.
I almost warn him about Corva, but I stop myself.
She doesn’t like strangers snooping around. I hope she finds him in her house. I hope she slaughters this creep where he stands.
But would Ari want that?
Shit. Why did I even think that?
Ari clearly doesn’t make good choices in life. This guy is walking fucking proof of that.
I lead him up the uneven wooden stairs to the highest level above. When I stride across our netting nest, he does, also, with too much effortless composure.
I hate him.
I don’t even know him, and I hate him.
Ryke and Zav look up when we get to the platform, and the two of them share a similar but opposing look. Their brows are raised high, but where Ryke has interest, Zav has nothing but distrust.
My brother’s smart for not trusting people.
I trusted this beautiful fae woman, and it got me lured into some kind of fucking third-wheel voyeurism.
“Who the fuckin’ hell are you?” Zav asks.
His play on words wasn’t intentional, but it makes the demon smile anyway.
“Krave. And you are?” The hellacious man asks with taunting politeness.
“He’s a sex demon that Ari hired to get her off,” I say.
The way the demon tries to look offended by stifling his smile isn’t very believable.
“She didn’t hire me,” he says as if that’s the issue at hand. “You make it sound like I’m employed or that she’s my mistress.” He pauses, gazing into the deep blue sky as if all of that registers only when he says the words aloud. “Hmm, perhaps I am employed by Mistress Aries.” The happiness shining in his eyes only annoys me more.
“How do you know her?” I ask with a contained growl.
He lowers her carefully onto the netting, and the towel draped over her shifts enough so that all four of us are peering down at the smooth expanse of her hip.
“A delightful accident.” The random way he says words makes it hard to know if he’s answering or just spitting out words that drift through his ridiculous mind. “She drunkenly said my name three times while eating some kind of cereal one morning.”
Krave . . .
Strange.
“We’ve been non-friends for years now.”
Non-friends.
Have I mentioned that this girl makes painfully bad decisions?
“What do you know about the thing inside her? The spirit or whatever. Why can’t someone more powerful just exorcise her?” I ask.
Krave’s theatrical persona lowers its mask. I can see it even in the way he holds his shoulders. The light in his eyes darkens, and the smile on his face is gone when he looks at me.
“She would not like me telling you her secrets,” he whispers, as if he’s guarding her virtue. His amusement quirks his lips all over again, and he lowers himself down to lie flat on the floor and gaze up at the thick white clouds. “She’ll be furious, but she’s always furious with me so I suppose I’ll tell you anyway.”
He lifts his long fingers above him. As he starts to speak, thin smoky lines drawl out like a moving sketch for us to see.
“Three years ago, Aries was a member of the prestigious but secret group called the Shadow Guard.” His ink-stained fingers twirl with glittering magic, and the drawing portrays a beautiful girl with cascading hair climbing a graveyard fence of some kind. “The Shadow Guard stands against her father, King Gravier. Its sole purpose is to help demons within the fae realm. Equality and all that.”
“She helps demons?” Zaviar asks quietly, his cruel gaze assessing the man lying near his feet.
“She’s always helped demons. She’s always loved them. Except for me.” His words dwindle off into a quiet whisper, but he simply clears his throat and with a flick of his wrist, the whisking drawing changes to stream along with his story. “She stole something the crown wanted, though. Aries stole the essence of Hell Lord’s mate from the castle’s necropolis. She stole a Queen of Hell’s ashes.”
Hell Lord’s mate . . .
“Who’s Hell Lord?” I ask quietly.
“He’s a King of the Voren Empire. He’s one of the rulers beneath the Four Princes,” he explains. “Anyway, her brother caught her with the small urn of ashy remains that tie the demon world to this one. It’s a cursed token. The ruler of hell, Hell Lord was furious King Gravier stole his beloved. So he cursed her remains to allow his demons to live among us. We don’t have to wait for someone to summon us outside of our lands anymore. We’re free. In a way.” He shakes his head at that statement but continues. “Aries was caught stealing the hidden ashes her brother wanted so badly. Instead of handing the token over and allowing Prince Nathiale to control the portal piece between the two realms . . .” His lips sneer into a pleased smile. “She snorted it.”
My lips curl back hard with the visual his words are literally painting for us to see.
“What the fuck,” Ryke whispers, disgust clearly written all over his face.
“She’s possessed by the mate of Hell? She’s possessed by a fucking Queen of Hell?” Zav’s brows are so low his eyes look black with all the hard-glaring confusion he holds there.
> “She is. The Queen of the Voren Empire to be exact.” Krave nods with that same proud smirk.
He likes her. Too much.
“So why doesn’t she have someone exorcise the queen of the damned out of her?” I ask with more impatience. Why the hell does this woman make such terrible decisions?
Krave’s smile pulls down at the corners, and his fingers close into his palm, wiping away the image of Aries and the shit choices she makes in life.
“Because as long as the essence haunts Aries, the token is safe. The demon’s portal piece is safe inside her. Her brother will never have it.”
Zaviar’s brooding look softens, and he looks to the fae woman with a bit more compassion. It’s a rare thing for my brother to find compassion for anyone.
“She’s protecting the demons by suffering through it,” he whispers.
Krave nods while crossing one black boot over the other.
The incubus is really making himself at home here. I don’t like it.
“Thanks for the information, but I think it’s about time for you to shove off,” I tell him. My arms cross. I wait for him to acknowledge me, but he never glances my way.
“Actually, I always wait until she wakes up before leaving.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because it makes her subtly uncomfortable to face me after I make her cum. For a few short moments, she clung to me as if I was the only person in the world who could make her life better. And I like to know that she remembers that.”
“You like to guilt her for hating you, is what you mean.” My gaze narrows on him but he doesn’t look my way.
“Oh, very much,” he says flatly, his smile as taunting as ever.
“Okay.” I sigh, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. “How long does she usually sleep for?”
“Three days,” he says without care.
Three. Days.
I hate this.
9
It’s Complicated
Aries
Before my lashes open, memories swirl in my mind as the bright sunlight washes into the darkness of my thoughts.