To Caress a Demon's Soul
Page 11
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to do for some time,” Thorne murmured.
“Yeah?” Her eyes were riveted on his mouth, the hint of a smile that played about his lips.
Leaning in, he steered her against the wall of the small alcove. His breath tickled her ear as he said in a tone that turned her knees to jelly, “I’m really glad you’re not wearing jeans tonight.”
“Huh?”
He slid one hand underneath her pleated black skirt, up her thigh, and cupped her. She jerked and gasped, her core reacting to his touch with instant, lava-hot arousal. The mating bond vibrated with sexual intent as he pushed aside her panties and teased her folds.
“Gods,” she whispered, pressing into his caress. She looped her arms around his neck. “This is so much naughtier than any fantasy I ever had about you.”
His chuckle was laden with sensual hunger. “I’ve only just started.” He kissed her, nipped her lower lip, and pulled her panties down to her knees. “Step out.”
Breath growing heavier, her mounting arousal a rush in her blood, she obeyed and managed to get out of her underwear while not breaking skin contact to Thorne. Losing the cover of his cloaking right now would be disastrous. He took the panties and threw them out of the shadow, not even glancing to see where they landed.
“Thorne!”
“Shhh.” He laid a finger on her lips, a worrisome sparkle of erotic mischief in his eyes. “I suggest you try to be quiet. The shadow swallows some sound, but not all.” And before she could protest or even draw breath, he sank down in front of her and put his mouth on the pulsing heat between her legs.
Choking back a squeal, she grabbed the tousled mess of his hair in one hand, the other covering her mouth lest she let a moan slip out. Thorne’s wickedly talented tongue stroked the sides of her clit, right, left, right again, always missing the center of her pleasure just so—driving her excitement higher and higher. Damn, but he’d learned real fast what moves made her squirm against him like a cat in heat.
Only a few feet away, people ambled by, talking, laughing, enjoying the night, and here she was, pressed against the wall with her skirt up to her hips and a gorgeous guy going down on her, the dusky shadow veil her only privacy shield. The knowledge of her near exposure shot a thrill through her veins.
Thorne lifted her right leg on his shoulder, opening her wider, and pushed two fingers inside her while he sucked on her clit. Waves of mounting sensual tension flooded her body, erased all thought. Mercilessly, he curled his fingers inside her, rubbed the spot that made her turn into a mewling kitten, and administered a devastating series of licks and nibbles to her clit.
The sensations crested and crashed into a tidal wave of pleasure. Her knees almost gave out from the force of her orgasm, but Thorne steadied her against the wall. She bit down hard on her hand in order to stifle the helpless moan that wanted to break from her throat. Her hand in Thorne’s hair clenched to a fist, and he flinched.
Aftershocks of sexual bliss pulsed through her as she watched him rise in front of her. He made sure to keep touching her skin while he got to his feet. Eyes of winter-sky blue glittering with desire and a very male pride, he caught her gaze.
“You pulled some of my hair out.” His thumb stroked her lower lip.
“Serves you right for turning me into a hot mess when I’m not allowed to moan my way out of it.”
His throaty laugh did all sorts of other naughty things to her lady parts. “I’m not done yet.”
“Wha—”
Her question died in a gasp of surprise when he lifted her up with his hands under her butt, spread her legs, and entered her in one smooth thrust. Gods, he was nifty. She hadn’t even noticed how he’d opened his pants. Not that she had any more leisure to be baffled at that, what with her mind and body gleefully surrendering to the most glorious rough sex she’d ever experienced.
But what rocked her to her core wasn’t just the raw passion and hard thrusts, ensuring she’d walk funny and with a grin splashed on her face well into the next day. It was what shimmered behind the ferocity with which he took her—the depth of his love flowing along the mating bond, the tender way he brushed his lips across hers, the warmth in his eyes.
And in that moment, the world outside the shadow truly fell away, leaving them alone in a cocoon of heat, pleasure, and whispers of love.
Thank you for reading To Caress a Demon’s Soul! If you enjoyed Thorne and Anjali’s story, consider leaving a review on your favorite store or on Goodreads. Reviews are great to help other readers find the books they’ll love, and to support your favorite authors.
You’re also welcome to contact me via email:
nadine@nadinemutas.com
I love to hear from readers!
Books in the Love and Magic series by Nadine Mutas:
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Novels:
To Seduce a Witch’s Heart (Love and Magic, #1)
To Win a Demon’s Love (Love and Magic, #2)
To Stir a Fae’s Passion (Love and Magic, #3)
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Novellas:
To Caress a Demon’s Soul (Love and Magic, #1.5)
Acknowledgments
My biggest thanks go out—as always—to my husband, for his unwavering support and help.
To Dawn Linse, for being one hell of a writing buddy, critique partner, sounding board, beta reader, and last but not least, friend. I value our writing sessions so much.
To Jessica Hofmann, Wendy Beck, Jackson D’Lynne, and Debbie Herbert, for beta reading and giving me such fast and great feedback on the novella.
To my mom-in-law, for babysitting my beloved little demon spawn so I could get started writing this story.
And to the readers who loved To Seduce a Witch’s Heart and let me know they couldn’t wait to read more of the series. You’re everything. Thank you so much for your support.
About the Author
Polyglot Nadine Mutas has always loved tangling with words, whether in her native tongue German or in any of the other languages she’s acquired over the years. The more challenging, the better, she thought, and thus she studied the languages of South Asia and Japan. She worked at a translation agency for a short while, putting to use her knowledge of English, French, Spanish, Japanese, and Hindi.
Before long, though, her lifelong passion for books and words eventually drove her to give voice to those story ideas floating around in her brain (which have kept her up at night and absent-minded at inopportune times). She now writes paranormal romances with wickedly sensual heroes and the fiery heroines who tame them. Her debut novel, To Seduce a Witch’s Heart (first published as Blood, Pain, and Pleasure), won the Golden Quill Award 2016 for Paranormal Romance, the Published Maggie Award 2016 for Fantasy/Paranormal Romance, and was a finalist in the PRISM contest for Dark Paranormal and Best First Book, as well as nominated for the Passionate Plume award 2016 for Paranormal Romance Novels & Novellas. It also won several awards for excellence in unpublished romance.
She currently resides in California with her college sweetheart, beloved little demon spawn, and two black cats hellbent on cuddling her to death (Clarification: Both her husband and kid prefer her alive. The cats, she’s not so sure about.)
Nadine Mutas is a proud member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA) and the Silicon Valley Romance Writers of America (SVRWA), the Rose City Romance Writers (RCRW), as well as the Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal chapter of the RWA (FF&PRW).
Connect with Nadine:
@NadineMutas
AuthorNadineMutas
www.nadinemutas.com
nadine@nadinemutas.com
First published as Blood and Shadows
Copyright © 2015 Nadine Mutas
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright
owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. For permission requests, contact Nadine Mutas at one of the addresses below.
* * *
Nadine Mutas
PO Box 94
New Almaden, CA 95042
nadine@nadinemutas.com
www.nadinemutas.com
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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