by Lexi C. Foss
So wet.
So beautiful.
I meant what I said about lying here all night. I could feast on this woman for eternity. From the mewls she was making in response, she might not mind.
But I knew what she truly desired.
I slid two fingers inside her, noting her tightness, and used my mouth and touch to prepare her for me.
One of her hands went to the back of my head to grip my hair in her tight fist as she rode my face with reckless abandon.
I’d told her to set the pace, and she was finally following my command. It just took a little coaxing.
Her lips parted on a pant, her cheeks flushing with pleasure as she took her pleasure from my tongue. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, yes.”
I fought a grin and focused on the task of sending her to the stars, just like she requested.
Her pussy clamped down around me seconds before she exploded, her body trembling deliciously before my eyes. This was so much better than a dream. The taste of her was real. Her cries were real. My name on her tongue was fucking real.
And it made me harder than I’d ever been.
I yanked off my pants and climbed over her. She vibrated in approval, incoherent words falling from her lips as I captured her mouth with my own. I wanted her to taste what I’d done to her. To experience the ambrosia of her climax coating my tongue.
She accepted my kiss in kind, her greedy throat working to swallow her own juices mingled with my taste.
It was so fucking hot.
She’d lost herself completely to the moment, her legs winding around my waist and urging me forward.
I didn’t deny her, instead driving myself into her on a single thrust that stole both our breaths. Her mind flickered, an image of her past threatening to overcome us both, but I forced her into the present by caressing her thoughts with my own.
I allowed her to hear my hunger. To feel my need to claim her. I sent memories of endless nights in my own bed with my fist pumping around my cock to thoughts of only her.
I’d wanted this woman for so long, had denied myself so many times, and I wanted her to experience that pain with me. As well as the joy of finally being inside her, finally claiming the female I’d desired for far too long.
All those fucking rules.
My determination to ascend.
The agony of reluctantly following my fate.
I gave it all to her. And she responded by showing me her own pain, her suffering, her moments of doubt, her sadness at wanting someone she couldn’t have, her perpetual fear that she might lose her mind to the nightmares one day.
Yet I stood beside her each time, yanking her back to reality, grounding her in the present.
Just as she helped me see the light at the end of the tunnel.
My mother wanted me to choose a bride, and the female I should have claimed had been beside me all this time.
There was a reason I stopped messing around. A reason I’d stopped flirting recklessly with other women. A reason I’d chosen celibacy for the last six months.
It was because I wanted Zaya.
My little warrior demon with a spirit underlined in strength.
Her kiss became passionate and tender. She threaded her fingers through my hair once more, but less urgent this time, and her other palm went to the back of my neck.
Setting the pace, I realized.
This wouldn’t be a harsh fucking. It wouldn’t be hard or fast.
She’d chosen sweet and slow.
And I indulged her with my hips, moving inside her in a sensual dance underscored by our affection.
This wasn’t just about satisfying an unbridled need. It was about satisfying our hearts.
I’d never experienced anything like it, the intense emotion sweeping over us with every thrust of my hips. It was as if my soul had married hers, binding us together for eternity.
I opened my eyes to find her watching me, understanding brimming in her gaze.
We were making love to each other.
I had no idea how to interpret that and didn’t bother to try. I just accepted it, like I did her.
Her eyes fell closed once more, our kiss deepening. I followed suit, allowing her to take me to new heights while I guided us both toward a rapturous union.
I cupped her cheek, my opposite hand against her hip, my pace slow and perfect.
She shuddered, drawing a shiver up my spine as pleasure rippled through her. My cock jolted in response, my own climax following hers and eliciting a guttural groan from my throat.
It wasn’t enough.
I needed so much more.
And my body agreed, my shaft pulsating inside her and demanding I continue moving.
We didn’t stop kissing, ecstasy overwhelming us both even while our hips maintained the same pace.
Everything felt new. As if I’d just unlocked some secret part of my soul and given it to her.
She smiled against my lips, her mental voice a caress to my thoughts as she demanded more. Harder this time, she added in a husky whisper. Make me feel you for days, Prince Grigory.
You have no idea what you’re asking of me, I warned her, demonstrating with a flex of my hips. If you want to feel me, it’s going to hurt.
Good, she replied. I told you to take away my memories. I meant it. Replace them all with you. Only you.
I growled against her mouth. Then I expect you to return the favor. Make me yours, Zay. And I’ll make you mine.
She responded by biting my tongue—hard. I jolted, my palm flying up to her throat on impulse. Her nails dug into my scalp and the back of my neck, refusing to release me as she swallowed my fresh blood. Her throat worked beneath my palm, and fuck if that wasn’t the most erotic sensation I’d ever experienced.
The little vixen was claiming me, just as I’d demanded, with her vicious teeth against my tongue.
Fuck, Zay.
Yes, she replied. Now.
My body moved as if she possessed me with those words, her internal moans urging me onward into a pace that would bruise us both. She responded by biting me again, causing me to growl. It fucking hurt. Yet her tongue soothed mine with each stroke, and that feeling of her throat bobbing with every swallow had me hypnotized.
I was on top.
Yet she’d taken all my control.
I’d never been so fascinated before in my entire life, and I was so fucking turned on I could barely see. Her ecstasy was all that mattered. Her claim. Her life. Her touch. Her pussy milking my cock. Her shallowing breaths. Her fight.
Fuck, it was too much.
Too intense.
Too damn perfect.
I was absolutely hers, just as she was mine, and I refused to let her go. We’d just committed our souls together in a bond neither of us would ever break, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
She swallowed once more, finally releasing me. I struck her neck, a dying man starved for the taste of his woman, and bit into her pulse on a rush of rapture that filled us both.
Zaya screamed, her nails drawing blood down my back, her hips lifting to meet mine as I slammed into her.
Mine.
Mine.
Fucking mine.
Our voices mingled in our heads, both of us chanting the same damn words, blended with cries of bliss and pain and the sweetest agony imaginable. Her essence coated my throat, our joint pleasure bathed my cock, her soul danced with mine, and underneath it all, my heart beat for her. Only her. Forever her.
“Again,” she demanded, her voice a hoarse rasp that had my balls tightening in anticipation.
“Again,” I agreed.
She’d wrung me dry, and yet I was still hard for her. Still ready. Still overcome by intense need.
So I took us both to new heights, drawing blood, leaving bruises, mating our spirits in an eternal dance, and vowing myself to her for always.
A dangerous coupling.
Defying all the rules.
Breaking all my vows.
And yet, nothing in my life had ever felt so right.
I’d made a choice—Zaya. My warrior. My future.
There was no regret. No second guesses. Only a lasting sense of promise as we both fell into a deep sleep, sated and exhausted, forever bound.
This was why I never took her, I realized sometime later that night. I knew this would happen. She’s always been mine…
Mmm, hot. So, so hot.
I snuggled into the source of heat, inhaling the spicy scent of man. My man. My Grigory. I recognized him, his essence flowing over me and through me and claiming me all over again, even while I slept.
His arm tightened around my lower back, holding me closer, his lips whispering across my forehead. “Morning, beautiful,” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.
I smiled, loving that tone. “Morning.” Although, I suspected it might be afternoon in this world. I really couldn’t tell. We’d lost a lot of time in this bed, but I didn’t regret a second of it.
“Hungry?” Grigory asked, that deep rumble music to my ears.
“A little bit,” I replied, kissing his throat and working a path downward to his cock. I hadn’t really tasted him yet, not in the way it counted. “I’ll just have you for breakfast.”
He hummed in approval, releasing me to roll to his back. I followed him with my mouth, my tongue tracing his abdomen as I opened my eyes to watch his reaction, then froze at the red haze surrounding him.
What…? My brow furrowed, causing Grigory to frown down at me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his palm coming to cup my cheek.
“I…” I’m seeing things, I thought, shaking my head. “Nothing.” I resumed my path, but the colors began to shift from red to a pinkish hue.
“Zaya?” he asked, his tone no longer holding a sensual edge. “Talk to me.”
“Your aura… it’s changing.”
“My aura?” he repeated. “What do you mean?”
“I… You know how I started seeing auras? Or the darkness surrounding someone?” I’d mentioned it to him during training a few times.
He nodded. “Yeah, you can see the violence in others. It’s not necessarily a natural trait, but you’re a halfling with Graystall heritage. It’s possible your mother mating a human awakened some deep-seated ability in his family line. Demons don’t always play with mortals, but it happens. Obviously.”
“Right.” That was what he told me the first time I mentioned it. “But your aura… it’s… no longer gray.”
His hand on my face tensed. “It’s black?”
“No. It’s red. Well, it was red. It’s… sort of pink now. With a little bit of orange.” I tried to shake my head again, to clear it. “I think I drank too much of your blood.”
He grunted. “My blood doesn’t make others see colorful auras. I’m not a drug.”
Well, I didn’t know about that. I felt pretty addicted to him. But that wasn’t the point. “Maybe I’m just tired?”
“Or maybe your power is evolving,” he countered.
“What?”
Rather than reply, he gently shifted me off of him and rolled out of the bed.
“Where are you going?” I asked him as he left the room.
“Grabbing my phone,” he replied.
“Why?”
“Because I want to test something,” he called back.
I swallowed, not sure I liked the sound of this. “Okay,” I replied slowly, then sat up and pressed my back to the headboard. I pulled the sheets up to my chest, feeling a little too naked now. Strange, considering what we’d just shared, but his comment regarding my powers evolving had left me uneasy.
How do powers evolve? Is that even possible?
“It’s not common,” Grigory murmured, clearly hearing my thoughts. “But it can happen in rare situations.”
He rejoined me on the bed beneath the covers, his long legs stretching out to cross at the ankles as he relaxed beside me against the headboard.
“Right, so we have surveillance all over the palace,” he said. “You know this already, but what isn’t as commonly known is that we use thermal technology because of the shadowing ability some Noxia demons possess. It helps us track their essence should a crime be committed.”
“I see.” Seemed a little overdone, but given my situation with Yakariah, I understood the purpose.
“So, in theory, you should be able to see auras on the screen,” he continued, arching a brow. “Want to test my theory?”
“Not really,” I muttered. “But do it anyway.” Because I needed to know. His aura had moved to a bluer shade now, as if it were tied to his emotions. And underneath it, I could see the gray colors of his soul. A lighter gray, suggesting he had a few darker traits but mostly possessed pure intent. That seemed rather typical for a demon. His mother wore a similar shade around her.
“It’s interesting hearing the description in your mind,” he remarked, staring at me. He leaned forward to drop a kiss against my cheek, then flicked through his phone. “My access allows me to see current footage and older footage.”
“Were you able to see Yakariah’s murder on here?”
“Yes, but I watched it on my computer screens because they’re bigger. I wanted to study your face.”
“Why?”
“Because you appeared emotionless, like you were in some sort of fucked-up trance. Which makes sense now that I’ve seen the memory through your mind.”
I shivered, the memory one that felt foreign and wrong, yet too real to be a lie. Like a nightmare come to life.
“Okay, let’s find my mother and start there,” he suggested, thumbing through a series of images before bringing one up from a formal sitting room. I recognized it as one of the many areas in his mother’s wing of the palace. It was her evening tea area, where she enjoyed light refreshments usually drizzled in blood.
Queen Lux sat in a regal chair, her ankles crossed at the side, and her hands clasped in her lap, while Valora gestured animatedly around the room. She was clearly upset, and she had a deep red hue hanging around her. I frowned. “Valora is red.”
“I could have guessed that by her cheeks,” Grigory replied. “Seems she’s furious about something. Probably you.”
“Your mother seems… serene.”
“What color is she?” he asked.
I studied the queen, frowning. “She’s… wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s surrounded by black,” I replied. “She’s never black. She’s always gray, like you. But I see a touch of red on the edges, as if some sort of emotion is trying to escape yet can’t.” It was a bizarre summarization. “Something’s not right with your mother.”
“Sort of like how she condemned you to death without talking to me,” he said slowly. “I wonder if she’s fallen victim to the same hypnosis.”
“If that’s the case, then we need to get back to her and help her.”
He shook his head. “Not yet. We need more evidence to present to her. However…” He shifted to a different screen and typed out a message in a language I didn’t understand, then hit Send. When he switched back to the surveillance camera, I saw Adrik pulling out his phone from his pocket.
“Did you just message him?”
“Yeah.”
“What language was that?” I asked.
“A secret one we created years ago when we wanted to avoid my mother,” he replied, smirking. “It’ll get the point across to him. Hopefully, he can help her while we dig up more evidence.” He paused, then looked at me. “You realize this refined gift of yours isn’t normal, right?”
“No, I thought it was perfectly fine that I’m suddenly seeing rainbows,” I replied flatly.
He snorted, then started sifting through images again until he found Napia and her father.
“Black,” I said immediately.
“Anything else?” he pressed.
I studied the two of them huddled together and slowly shook my head. “It’s like th
eir souls are so dark they have no other aura around them.”
He nodded and put away his phone. “Well, it’s certainly not a normal power, but I think it’s going to help us.”
“An optimistic view,” I grumbled, then chewed my lower lip.
Why are these powers awakening now?
“Valora’s powers were gradual,” he replied softly.
“She’s Lucifer’s daughter,” I pointed out. “I’m a halfling.”
“Perhaps your mortal line had some latent abilities.”
“Have you ever known humans to have supernatural powers?” I asked him incredulously.
“Well, no, but most humans don’t mate with demons. Your genetics could be forever changing as a result of your demonic half overtaking your mortal half.” He shrugged. “And it’s possible your connection to me is only encouraging that evolution.”
That was a plausible explanation. Not that it really made me feel any better. “My mother’s side of the family can’t see auras. They’re not even that powerful, really. So whatever this is, it’s not from her.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he vowed.
While I hoped he was right, I didn’t share in his astute optimism.
“Trust me, Zay,” he said, cupping my cheek and guiding me toward his lips. “We’ll research this until we have an answer, even if it takes us a decade or more to find it.”
“That sounds like a commitment, Grigory,” I replied against his mouth.
“You know it is,” he whispered before kissing me deeply.
And here I thought I was just another notch for your bedpost, I thought at him.
Never, he replied. You’ve always meant more to me than that, Zay. He shifted a scant inch away to lock his gaze with mine. “I’ve never let anyone bite me before. Not until you.”
“Really?” I couldn’t hide the shock in my tone.
“You’re my first, Zay. My only. And I considered that bite of yours a claim.”
My cheeks heated. “It felt like a claim to me, too.”
“A promise for more,” he murmured, drawing me into him for another kiss, only to stiffen as an alarm blared around us. “Shit.”
“What is that?” I asked as he jumped out of the bed.
“Demonic company,” he replied gruffly, grabbing his jeans from the floor and yanking them on. “Get dressed.”
