The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-6: A Complete Paranormal Romantic Comedy Series

by Deborah Wilde

  I’d gotten a confession.

  I lay my palm on his cheek. “Aw, Snowflake.”

  “Don’t you dare pity me.”

  “I don’t. I understand you.”

  “I know. God, I know.” Still blindfolded, Rohan nuzzled into my hand.

  This jumble of emotions blew through me, knocking the breath from my lungs. “Lie down.” I didn’t have any other scarves or actual bondage ties so I used two thigh-high cotton socks. “This okay?” I asked, tugging on the bow tie connecting his wrists to the bed post.

  “Yeah.” He stilled, head tilted with an expectant air.

  Rohan was one of the most alpha males I knew and yet he had no problem giving up control. To me. Not just in sex. He’d let me take the lead in fights and in finding the spine. If we were going to move forward, we’d be doing so as equals. Of that I had no doubt. A hummingbird flutter of nervous excitement licked through me.

  Taking a slow, deep breath, I cocked my head to the side, and pressed my mouth to his. My stomach did a backflip. Movies and books were filled with people losing themselves in kisses. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was too hyperaware of who I was with. The erratic thump of his heart under my palm. The tension in his corded biceps. His low rumble when my tongue tangled with his.

  I draped myself over him, my weight sinking into his. Threading my fingers into his hair, I deepened the kiss. We were on the same wavelength, taking our time, savoring this new taste of each other. His was equal parts wildness, stubbornness, and gentleness.

  I rested my hand on his jaw, my thumb caressing his cheek.

  Rohan licked into the corner of my mouth. Every slow, insistent kiss burned my skin, laying more and more bare between us.

  The world fell away.

  If this kiss was my white flag, then I intended to draw out every second of my surrender.

  I existed in pieces. The fall of his hair like silk through my fingers. The fit of our hips, our bodies aligned like puzzle pieces, all hard edges and rounded corners. The faint hint of bourbon I tasted on him.

  I melted closer into him, my heart beating so hard the tremors rolled along my skin. Our kiss snaked through my veins, tingling the spaces between my toes, warming the jut of my elbows, and making the tips of my ears pulse.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, his lips trailing down my throat. A heightened prickling that pulled my already taut skin tighter.

  “You’re blindfolded.” I arched up under his touch.

  “It doesn’t matter. I see you. Bella. Jamila. Sundari.” He kissed his way across my collarbone. Kissed me like he was charting my landscape. “Guzal. Mei li in. Linda.”

  Rohan sucked my breast into his mouth through the fabric of my top. “Nava,” he sighed, flicking his tongue over my hardened nipple. My breath caught. So he did it again, his mouth lazily exploring me. “Krasivaya. Areumdaun. Yafa.”

  His lips descended lower, nipping at me to position me where he wanted me since he was still tied up. His mouth skipped along my abdomen, making me shiver in delight.

  “Schoen. Vakker. Utsukushi. So very beautiful.” A kiss with each compliment. He worshiped me with his lips and his words.

  My insides dissolved into jelly. “How do you know all these terms?”

  “I asked the roadies. It totally scored me chicks on tour.”

  I smacked him.

  “Kidding.” He paused. “I didn’t need help.”

  I smacked him again. “Bastard,” I said, laughing. “I’m gonna molest you now.”

  “It’ll cost ya.” He turned his puckered lips up to mine.

  A price I’d happily pay.

  This kiss wasn’t merely hunger. It was ineffable. Inevitable. Blood rushed from my brain in a dizzying surge, my insides stuck in that combustible moment when spark snapped into flame. I was a dancer. I had great balance. You’d never know it to look at me now, clutching at him. Eroded. Vertiginous.

  I broke the kiss, dragging in a breath, my breasts hot and aching for his touch. I snapped open the buttons on the jeans that he’d fallen asleep in, expecting to hit boxers. “Fuck me,” I said. “You went commando?”

  He laughed and the depraved sound jolted straight into Cuntessa.

  “Huh.” I trailed my fingers down his chest. “So did I.”

  “It’s probably good I didn’t know that before,” he said in a strangled voice. He strained against his bonds. “Untie me.” I gave a sultry laugh and he groaned. “Tease,” he said.

  I slid down his torso tasting the salt from the sweat on his skin. His erection strained and jerked under my arm. Grinning, I tugged his jeans down to free it, Rohan’s growled “touch me,” making me wetter than I already was.

  I called up my magic, the barest of hums tingling my lips, then I wrapped my mouth around his cock. Nowhere near enough to shock, just enough to blow his mind.

  “Holy fuck,” Rohan groaned, bucking off the mattress. His low steady stream of filthy commands drove me to the same crazed edge as my electric BJ drove him. I took a heapload of smug satisfaction at his desperate thrashing.

  “Bet the other Rasha don’t have as fun a party trick,” I smirked.

  “You’re not showing that to anyone else.”

  “No?”

  The blades at Rohan’s wrists shot out to slice through his ties, my socks falling in shredded heaps onto the mattress. He ripped the blindfold off, reaching for me. “No.”

  “Okay,” I sighed, not caring he’d broken free.

  We fell to the sheets in a tangle of limbs. He pressed me deeper into the mattress, gripping my hips as his mouth slammed on mine with an urgency I matched, kiss for kiss.

  Desire shimmered like heat between us.

  He wrestled me out of my shirt, so careful of my still-bandaged shoulder. Angling his body closer toward mine, he pinned me down, his leg jutting between my knees, sliding me against his hard thighs. His fingers flexed against the small of my back drawing me closer against him and I moaned, every cell in my body flaring.

  “Why did you regret it?” The words tumbled from my mouth.

  “What?”

  “When you kissed me the first time. Right afterwards, you looked like you wished you could take it back.”

  Rohan looked mind-wacked, naked, his hair completely wrecked, and his eyes a gold haze. “You want to do this now?”

  It wasn’t so much want as need. I nodded and braced myself.

  “It wasn’t regret.”

  I shifted to move out from under the liar, but he held me fast by the hips.

  “It wasn’t,” he insisted. “I’d wanted you so much when everything was still a game between us. Then I kissed you and I wasn’t playing anymore, but you still were.”

  “Why do you want me?”

  He nipped at my mouth. “Fishing for compliments?”

  “No,” I said. “I know I’m a catch, but you?” I pressed my palms into my thighs and shrugged, my heart in my throat. I forced myself not to squirm under the weight of his direct, unflinching stare.

  “I’ve experienced a lot,” he said.

  To put it mildly. “The rock star thing.”

  “Rock god,” he corrected, rubbing my nose with his, “but that’s not what I meant by experienced. I don’t need saving, Nava. But yeah, there’s darkness. Surrounded by what we see, what we do to keep this world safe, day in, day out? I only want bright spots around me. And you?” He caught my hands, which I’d laced together so he couldn’t see them tremble. “You’re a supernova.”

  “Vague bastard.”

  Rohan barked a laugh but his eyes practically sparked at me. Talk about supernova. The fires of the universe burned in them and I was caught in their gravitational pull.

  I kissed him again, craving this connection. With him. Only him.

  His fingers glided up my neck, his thumb resting over my fluttering pulse. I swayed in toward him suckling the hollow of his throat and he hissed, tangling my hair in his hands and ghosting his lips along my jaw before claiming my mo
uth, a frantic edge to our embrace.

  He demanded complete and utter acquiescence, running his hands feverishly over my body. Both of us tearing at my clothing, until we were skin on heated skin.

  Rohan rolled away from me for a second to reach under the bed. My moaned complaint tempered when he held Snake Clitspin up.

  “You put Snake back and didn’t tell me?”

  “You anthropomorphized him?” He placed his hands on his hips, his words parroting my earlier ones. “Do I need to rethink this?”

  “Try it and die.”

  He flicked the switch on and pressed Snake into my hands. “Use it on yourself.”

  I shivered at his words, his voice barely more than a rumble, and slid Snake inside me. “Oh,” I gasped.

  Rohan put my hand on his cock. “Magic please.”

  “Happy to oblige.” My entire body buzzed, from Snake lighting me up to the current humming through my fingers.

  Rohan cupped my jaw, ravaging my mouth. He stroked Cuntessa as I plied my feelgood magic on him. Every atom in the room charged with a palpable build-up of explosive energy. We rode it fast and hard to the precipice and then Rohan pulled Snake away. He grabbed a condom from the drawer I directed him to, sheathed himself, and plunged into me.

  I flashed him a dreamy smile, loving that first instance of him filling me so completely.

  Rohan rocked into me with slow rolls of his hips, our kisses just as drugged out. He gripped my ass, an almost sharp bite of pain that tightened my nipples.

  I lost myself in him and in the tornado of heat building inside me.

  Rohan smiled down at me.

  This is what it feels like to make love.

  I tensed.

  Rohan met my eyes and said, “No take-backs.” He caught my mouth once more. Not possessive. Not ruthless. Undoing me with gentle and sweet until my pulse roared in my ears and it was getting harder to remember that slow was a valid option. I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to set a faster tempo.

  He stilled my hips.

  “It’s too much,” I said. “I can’t contain it.”

  “Then don’t. Look at me.”

  I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes, but I was trapped. Hypnotized by the volcanic fire in his eyes, like Mowgli under the spell of Kaa.

  He kissed me in a way that left no room for walls between us, and I came hard, seconds before he did. We didn’t move, Rohan still inside me. My hands flew to my cheeks; I’d never felt so naked.

  “I like the way you smell. Coconut,” he said. “You remind me of summer.” He nuzzled my shoulder.

  Stomach churning, I clenched the covers, waiting for the inevitable smirk at how he’d gotten me to lose control, and confused about the serene expression on his face. Not looking away, not running away required the most will power I’d ever summoned. I cleared my throat. “So, that was…?”

  Rohan mimed shooting himself in the head, then grinned.

  That so perfectly summed up my feelings, the knot of tension binding my ribcage unraveled.

  He got out of bed to dispose of the condom.

  I rolled onto my back. “I think I’m fuck drunk.”

  “What’s that?” He slid back in next to me, curling me possessively into his side. I stuck to him, both of us covered in a faint sheen of sweat.

  “Like punch drunk. Light-headed, lack of balance, loss of fine motor skills,” I said. Rohan lifted my arm to check and yes, it flopped back down like jelly. “But with orgasms,” I continued. “So, better. Hey. What would a breathalyzer for fuck drunk look like?”

  “Weirdo.” He kissed the top of my head.

  I’d missed Rohan this past month and not just because of the sex. I leaned in to kiss him again, certain I would never tire of that activity.

  He pressed his hands against my shoulders to stop me. “Wait.”

  “Wait?” I sat up.

  “In or out?”

  “Huh?”

  “In or out? Of this relationship. Are we dropping the ‘not’ with the hot boyfriend?”

  I smacked his arm. “I kissed you. Extrapolate.”

  He caught my wrists, hauling me half on top of him. “Nope. That’s dangerous where you’re concerned. As are most things.”

  I wriggled to get free, but his low rumble as I rocked against him changed my mind. Maybe one more wriggle. Some boob-brushing against his chest. “You want safe? Date a lifejacket.”

  “In or out, Sparky?” he asked in a soft voice, his gold eyes boring into mine.

  “I don’t like that nickname.”

  “Tough.” He wrapped an arm around me.

  “Liberty-taking fucker. I haven’t given you my answer yet.” I rocked against him once more, pleased to find him ready to go again.

  “You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned.

  “You sweet talker.”

  “Nava.” Had it just been desire etched across his features, I would have toyed with him some more but his jaw was tucked low and the corners of his eyes were pulled tight.

  This actually mattered to him.

  I let out a deep breath. “Totally in.”

  That won me a slow grin.

  I smiled back, light and warmth seeping into every part of me.

  “Sparky?” he said.

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “Yes, Snowflake?”

  He brought his mouth close to my ear. “Can I kiss my girlfriend now?”

  I grinned like an idiot, my toes curling under. Holy shit. I was Rohan Mitra’s girlfriend. Squeeeeee! “That can be arranged.”

  And oh, baby, it was.

  End of Book 3

  The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Crave

  Chapter 1

  Kissing Rohan Mitra, my delectable boyfriend of seventeen days, fourteen hours, and some miscellaneous minutes that I was above counting, was my new favorite addiction. Didn’t matter if it was a soft brush of lips, a quick, almost absent-minded peck to the corner of his mouth, a hot fevered embrace, or long, slow, drugged kisses like now, in a shadowy corner of Neon Paradise, our high bar chairs pushed close enough together for our knees to touch and one of Ro’s hands on the small of my back, pulling me toward him.

  We’d mastered the art form under a variety of conditions: stolen in the hallway of the chapter house, between the order and pick-up windows of a Starbucks drive-thru, hell, even high off a demon kill. Those were especially delicious.

  And sure, I’d been skeptical. Not being emotionally up for kissing anyone for over a year could do that to a girl. But Rohan Mitra was worth every second of waiting and more. I never wanted to break this kiss.

  Oxygen, that demanding element, had other ideas. I pulled back and draped my arms around his neck, ruffling his locks that fell like dark silk through my fingers. Planning on a quick lungful before going in for more.

  Then the darling boy spoke. “I didn’t think you’d be any good at kissing.”

  I slapped the tall, lacquered table. “Boom. Officially hitting pause.”

  Rohan raised an eyebrow. “On what?”

  “Your boyfriend status. What could possibly have led you to believe something so deluded?”

  He rubbed his nose against mine. “I figured the reason you were so dead-set against it was because of some deep-seated kissing insecurities. I was prepared to have to educate you on the subject. At length.”

  I clicked my tongue, though hours of kiss education with Rohan honestly didn’t sound so bad. “My mouth is a marvel, Snowflake. It would behoove you to remember that.”

  He leaned his elbows back over the top of his chair, pulling the fabric of his short-sleeved linen shirt tight around his biceps. “Behoove?”

  “Yes. Not only am I astoundingly kick-ass, I am also highly erudite.” I’d gotten this Word of the Day app that I was putting to good use, unlike the running app the Brotherhood made me download for training purposes. A little intellectual self-improvement never hurt. Besides, Rohan’s last girlfriend was a hair away from getting her Ph.D in
physics and I didn’t want to lower the bar too much. “Reiterating the marvel part now since that’s what you should be focusing on.”

  His gold eyes crinkled in either confusion or amusement. “I see.”

  “You doubt me?”

  He rubbed his head. “One of those PDs we took out earlier really clocked me. My short term memory is spotty.”

  “Apparently, since you’ve forgotten that we’re now calling them half-demons, not Practice Demons, out of respect for Leo. Also, shame on you. Blaming those poor spawn for your own shortcomings.” Tsking him, I slipped my fingers into his belt loops and tugged him close.

  Five minutes later, I pulled away from his mouth with a nip. “Are my stellar abilities coming back to you yet?”

  Wearing a slightly glazed look, his chest rising and falling rapidly, Rohan nodded like he’d forgotten how to form words.

  I patted his cheek. “Good man.” I grabbed my emerald satin clutch off the table where it had fallen between his half-finished G&T and my glass of water and slowly edged myself out. Time for another circuit of the dance floor. “Be right back.” I pushed my water glass at him. “Drink this so you’re not all headachy tomorrow.”

  “Hey, wait.” Rohan caught my wrist, eyes hot and insistent. “Restart the clock, Sparky.”

  I smiled, then mimed smacking it again. He raised the glass in cheers. What a guy.

  Leaving the boy to regroup, I skirted the packed dance area. The floor pulsed from the baseline of Jamiroquai’s “Canned Heat” cranked to eleven, with everyone pulling out their best Napoleon Dynamite moves. Glittery disco starbursts illuminated arms thrown up in abandon, the dancers having a blast with the “hits from the 90s to today” that were on tap tonight.

  Along the far edge of the floor, pleated curtains framed by multicolored spotlights illuminated cozy booths. Suppressing a smile at the dismayed groan that went up from the dude-bro group over by the pool tables, I curved around the sleek bar, restroom bound.

  I charged into the middle stall, locked the door, and sank down in sweet relief. This rare night out was so precious that I’d stayed totally sober to remember every moment of it. But all the dancing I’d done had required copious amounts of hydration and I’d drunk an ocean of water tonight. I peed for so long I must have been pissing out stored reserves. On the plus side, I was so well-hydrated that my skin glowed like I’d been airbrushed.