by Folsom, Tina
“Oh, oh…” Her eyelids fluttered, and her body stiffened.
He knew she was close. “I wanna hear my name when you come. Can you do that for me? Can you cry out my name?” Nothing would give him more pleasure.
Her eyes went wide as if for a moment she’d forgotten who he was. But then he pinched her clit, and Enya spasmed. Zoltan slid his middle finger into her channel while pressing his thumb to her clit.
“Oh… oh… Zoltan, yes, yes!”
Her muscles contracted around his finger, granting him an exquisite moment of her surrender, making him part of her pleasure.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, and dipped his head to kiss her.
She collapsed against him, and he caught her against his body, holding her until her orgasm subsided. He managed to shuck his boots and pants, then lifted Enya and carried her to the bed, where he laid her down gently.
Slowly he freed her of the remainder of her clothing and stripped himself of his boxer briefs. Now naked, he lowered himself over her, and as if they’d done this a thousand times, Enya spread her legs wide and welcomed him. He plunged into her with one thrust, seating himself to the hilt.
Enya looked up at him, her hands on his hips. “I love your cock inside me, Zoltan. Make love to me.”
The way she said his name nearly made him climax. She truly saw him now, and there was no disgust, no fear in her eyes when she looked at him. Maybe they had a chance.
“Anything you want,” he said.
He braced himself on his knees and elbows and began to move inside her, withdrawing an inch, then sliding back into her welcoming warmth. He took his time. There was no rush now. “I love how tight you are. I love how you cradle me.” He shifted so he could dip his head to her breasts and kiss them. “And I love feeling your breasts rub against me and your hard nipples tickle me.”
He drew his hips back and thrust forward, faster than before. Enya let out a moan and arched her back. He smiled at her. “Didn’t want you to think that I’d forgotten about your sweet pussy.” He delivered a few rapid thrusts, then followed them with a much slower rocking motion meant to ignite her clit again.
“I like that,” Enya murmured.
“Good.” He shifted again, lifting one leg over her thigh so their legs were intertwined like scissors. “Then you might like this too.” He rocked against her, squeezing his leg against her outer thigh, creating the feeling that her pussy was even tighter. At the same time, his groin pressed harder against her clitoris, the friction heightening Enya’s arousal.
“Zoltan,” she cried out breathlessly.
He repeated the motion while dipping his head to one breast and sucking the nipple into his mouth. He licked it and simultaneously plunged in and out of her wet channel. He was well aware that Enya couldn’t move much, but she wasn’t complaining. He’d guessed right: she wanted to be dominated in bed, wanted to be taken care of so she could let go. And he loved seeing her like this, free to enjoy her body.
Again and again, he drove his cock deep into her, and every time, sounds of pleasure rolled over Enya’s lips.
“Talk to me,” she said, breathing hard. “Your voice. I need to hear you.”
A smile formed on his lips. “You want me to talk dirty to you?”
She panted. “Yes. Your voice turns me on. From the moment we met in the bar, before I even saw your face, I felt it.”
He plunged deep and hard. “You would have let me fuck you in the street, wouldn’t you?”
Her eyes widened, but then she admitted what her eyes were already telling him: “Yes.”
“I wanted to.” He increased his thrusts. “I wanted to strip you right there and fuck you, no matter who was watching.”
Enya shuddered, and her nipples hardened even more.
“And you would have sucked my cock right there if I’d demanded it, wouldn’t you?”
Enya pressed her head into the pillow and arched her back. “Yes!”
“Yes, ’cause you’re wicked, Enya. You like to be bad.” He delivered several more thrusts, but soon, his control would snap. Knowing what Enya would have allowed him the moment they met made him hornier than he’d ever been. “I should have fed you my cock right there on the street.”
“Why didn’t you?” she asked, moaning.
“Because I had no idea how wicked you are.” He dipped his head to her face. “And how hungry for sex. Just as hungry as I. Now be a good girl and squeeze my cock really tightly.”
He felt her muscles respond to his command and close around his cock like a tightening fist. It was just what he needed.
“Fuck!” he said, his semen already shooting through his cock and exploding from the tip.
Beneath him, he felt Enya climax a second after him, her muscles twitching, her chest heaving. He looked at her face and saw an expression of pure joy and happiness. Relieved and satisfied, he collapsed and rolled off her, then pulled her to him so her back was aligned with his chest and her ass was tucked into the curve of his body, resting against his groin.
Even though he’d just climaxed, his cock was still hard. He lined up his shaft with her pussy and slid back into her from behind. Her channel, now drenched in their combined juices, instantly tightened around him.
“Hmmm,” Enya said, and pulled his arm around her front.
“Is that a hmmm, that’s good, or a hmmm, what’s he trying to do now?” Zoltan asked.
Enya turned her head to look at him. “It’s a hmmm, I’m surprised.”
“Surprised how?”
“I hadn’t thought of you as a man who likes to cuddle after sex.”
“Maybe I’m just getting ready for the next round,” he teased.
“No, you’re not.”
“May I tell you a secret?”
“Sure.”
“I’ve never done this before. You know, cuddle with a woman after sex.” He’d never seen the point. Or the need for it. Nor did he understand why he was telling her this. Had his orgasm robbed him of his mind?
“Are you saying that demons don’t cuddle?”
He chuckled. “No, I’m not saying that at all. But I never felt the need to hold a woman after sex. I never wanted that. But with you, I don’t know, it’s different. I want to spend the night with you. Fall asleep with you, wake up together.”
“Are you just saying that to prove to me that you’re not a bad demon?”
“I’m telling you the truth.” He understood why she was skeptical. After all, he’d deceived her before.
She nodded. “Okay, so since we’re telling the truth, may I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Demons don’t get sick, right?”
“Right. We’re immortals, like you.”
“Then what about your migraine attack? Did you fake it to draw me in?”
He put his hand on her shoulder to turn her halfway to him. “No. It’s not something I would ever fake. What man wants to look weak in front of the woman he’s trying to seduce? Believe me, if I could make those migraines disappear, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
“But I don’t understand how you can have migraines as a demon. That’s an illness. Demons don’t get sick. You just said so yourself.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. And it’s not exactly as if I could ask anybody, is it? My subjects don’t know about them. So far, I’ve been able to hide them from everybody, but if they ever get wind of my affliction, I’m as good as dead. Nobody wants a leader who’s weak.”
“You’re not weak.”
It was sweet of her to say that, but it didn’t change how these attacks made him feel: vulnerable. “Tell that to the other demons. A ruler is only on the throne for as long as he can defend his position.”
“Do you think somebody may have found out about your migraines, and that’s why they sent the assassins tonight?”
“No. If anybody found out, they’d tell all demons. There wouldn’t be a need for sending assassins. Everybody would be after me the
n. It wouldn’t take much to topple me. They wouldn’t do it here in the human world. They’d do it in the Underworld for everybody to witness.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever kills me will take the throne. He’ll be seen as the strongest demon, the rightful heir. I think the person who’s behind the assassination attempts is much more devious. He doesn’t want to be seen as the one who killed me for no good reason. It would mean a revolt among those who’re loyal to me. My guess is that his own following is small. He’ll have me killed and will then expose his own assassins and bring them to justice, thus earning the position as the Great One, because he avenged my death.”
“Do you have any suspects?”
“Several, but my main suspect is Vintoq, my right hand. He’s smart and ambitious. But I can’t prove anything yet. I’m working on it.”
“About that…”
“Yeah?”
Enya sighed. “I don’t think you should return to the Underworld. Stay here and—”
“I’m the ruler,” he interrupted. “If I don’t return, somebody will make himself the Great One.” And he wouldn’t let his throne go without a fight.
Enya turned fully to him, making his cock slip from her sheath. She sat up. “But that’s not important anymore. Haven’t I proven to you where you came from? Who your father is? Cinead is a council member. He’s respected. I’m sure that together we can somehow figure out how to turn you back into a Stealth Guardian.”
Zoltan gripped her shoulders, wanting to shake the impossible dream out of her. “No demon has ever turned back to what he was before. Least of all a demon like me. I’ve done too many evil things. I’m beyond redemption. Why can’t you accept that?”
“Because I don’t want to, okay? I don’t want to accept that you can never turn back.” Tears welled up in Enya’s eyes. “Why won’t you even try to find a way?”
Zoltan pulled her into his arms and cradled her. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you. I’m just realistic.” He pressed a kiss into her hair. “Please don’t cry, babe. It makes my heart hurt.”
She lifted her head and looked at him. “That’s because you’re not evil through and through. There’s still good inside you.”
He gave her a sad smile. “My feelings for you are the only good thing inside me.” And even those were hardly strong enough to turn him into a good person. “Everything good that’s happening to me is because of you. You even made my migraine disappear that night. When you touched me, you pushed it away.” He kissed her softly. “It was probably your virta that helped me.”
Her eyes widened. “You know about a Stealth Guardian’s virta?”
“Yes, we’re aware of it. Don’t worry; we can only take a human’s life force, not the virta of a Stealth Guardian.”
She nodded absent-mindedly. “But I didn’t use my virta on you to soothe your migraine. I didn’t dare, or you would have felt and seen the effects, and would have asked questions.”
That surprised him. “Then what did you do?”
“Nothing. I only touched you and spoke to you. Maybe you just relaxed and that’s why it went away. What triggered it in the first place? Perhaps that’s what you should look at.”
He thought back to that moment, his memory crystal-clear. But he hesitated to voice what he’d been thinking about then.
“You know what triggered it…” She looked at him. “What was it?”
He avoided her gaze. “I’m sorry, Enya…”
She put her hand under his chin and forced him to look at her. “Tell me.”
He took a deep breath. “I was thinking how close I was to achieving my goal, to getting you to trust me so that you would soon take me to your compound. So that I could destroy the Stealth Guardians from within.”
For a long while, Enya said nothing. Had he destroyed the little trust they’d built?
“And during the migraine, when I tried to soothe you, what did you think then?” she asked.
He shrugged. “What does it matter now?”
“It matters.”
“I forgot all about my plan. I forgot that I was trying to con you. All I could think about was that I wanted to spend the night with you, not because it was part of my plan, but because I wanted you. I still do.”
“That must have been it,” she said, as if to herself.
He glanced at her. “What must have been it?”
“You dispelled the migraine yourself. You brought it on by thinking about your plan of harming me and my brethren, and you made it vanish by forgetting about your plan.”
“But that’s impossible.”
“Maybe not,” she said excitedly. “Don’t you see? I think there’s still a part in you that’s Stealth Guardian. And that part is rebelling when you try to harm us.”
Could that be the reason? Were the migraines trying to tell him that there was another path he could take? One that would lead to redemption? Even if that were true, would he even want that? He’d been a demon for as long as he could remember. Who would he be if he wasn’t the Great One anymore?
Could he give up that kind of power? And for what? An uncertain future?
16
Enya stretched her tired limbs and started opening her eyes. Her long hair fell like a thick curtain of big locks over her face. She’d undone her braids before falling asleep, wanting to be more comfortable. The blackout curtains were still drawn, but on one side, a little bit of light filtered into the room. It was morning. She’d slept well and felt safe in Zoltan’s arms, but she’d also dreamed. In her sleep, her brain had been trying to come up with ideas of how to save Zoltan. She tried to remember a face she’d seen in her dream, the face of somebody who might be able to help her.
She turned to the other side and reached for Zoltan. But her hands touched only an empty pillow. She shot up to sit and flicked on the bedside lamp. Her eyes flew to the spot on the floor where Zoltan had dropped his clothes the night before. They were gone, as were his boots.
Fuck! He’d left. Without a word. Like a thief in the night. Had the previous night meant nothing to him? By telling her that it was impossible for him to change what he was, had he been trying to tell her that there was no future for them? No future together?
Naked, she jumped out of bed and hurried to the table. The daggers she’d placed there the night before were still there. She reached for one and saw the piece of paper held down by it. She picked it up, and her pulse settled instantly.
Gone to get breakfast. Wait for me. Back soon. Z.
“Stop being paranoid,” she murmured to herself. After what they’d shared last night, Zoltan wouldn’t just disappear. He’d told her that he had feelings for her, even though he hadn’t actually said what kind of feelings. And he’d told her about his nefarious plan, shared secrets with her he’d never share with an enemy.
She took a few breaths and headed for the shower.
Zoltan cared about her. And she cared about him.
Enya turned on the water and stepped under the spray. She always had her best ideas in the shower. The steady flow of the water washing over her body felt like a meditation. It was almost hypnotic and transported her back to her dreams.
Before her mental eye, she saw old books and manuscripts. Maybe something in the old history books would give her a clue. There had to be some ritual, some potion, that could turn a demon back to his original form. She froze. Or a spell. Yes, a spell. All of a sudden, the face of the person in her dream appeared before her. That was it. She knew what she had to do.
Quickly, she finished her shower and dried off. A towel wrapped around her, her hair falling down her back, she left the bathroom and found her panties. She slipped them on and tossed the towel on the bed. Her top was wrinkled, but she didn’t care. She pulled it over her head and tried to detangle her hair. Not having a comb or anything else to aid, she quickly pulled all hair to one side and braided it into one long tress. She would have to give it a good combing later. But right now, there wer
e more important things to do.
Enya stepped into her cargo pants and pulled them up. She felt something heavy in one of her pockets and patted it. It was nothing more innocuous than her cell phone—switched off, of course, so her colleagues couldn’t track her, in case they found it odd that she hadn’t returned yet. However, she doubted they were looking for her yet. After all, Hamish knew that she had planned to speak to her boyfriend “Eric” the night before to explain what he’d seen. Neither Hamish nor the others would find it strange that she hadn’t slept at the compound. It was buying her time until they came to ask questions. Time she needed, because as soon as Zoltan was back with breakfast, she’d have to make a short trip.
A sound as if somebody was kicking against the door with a boot made her snap her eyes to the door. Before she could wonder who would do such a thing, she realized that it could only be Zoltan. He had no key and probably had his hands full with cups of coffee and whatever else he considered breakfast. Barefoot, she hurried to the door, not wanting him to stand outside for too long, in case the maid was already cleaning rooms.
She turned the knob fully, but didn’t get a chance to open the door, because somebody was already kicking it in. The door hit her. One man wearing sunglasses muscled his way in, followed by two others who also hid their eyes behind dark shades. She didn’t have to be a genius to guess that the three weren’t human. Their weapons identified them as demons.
“Fuck!” She scrambled to jump up and spin around to lunge for her dagger she’d left on the bedside table. The daggers she’d taken off the dead demons the night before were out of reach—getting them would mean charging directly toward the demons.
She vaulted over the bed and reached for her dagger on the nightstand, and had touched its hilt when one of her attackers gripped her ankles and yanked her back. She fought against his grip.
“Stop fighting, bitch!”
