Wicked Abyss

by Kresley Cole

  On shore, she could feel the heat of his gaze on her, the first time he'd ever really seen her naked from the back. She might have slowed her steps to give him a good look at her ass. Evaluate this, demon.

  He yelled, "Stop."

  She froze. Had he spotted some danger? A heartbeat later, he traced directly behind her, then dropped to his knees.

  She peered over her shoulder. "Abyssian?"

  His brows were drawn, his expression lost. With shaking hands, he reached for her, palms easing closer to her ass. "Beautiful mate. Maddening me." His lean body quaked--and his huge cock strained.

  She sucked in a breath at the sight of it.

  The rigid length jutted upward from his groin, straight as a rod. The crown was broad and pulled taut. Two raised veins twined over the thick shaft.

  Her pussy went wet for it--though her mind doubted the logistics. He hadn't even gotten the head inside her before she'd felt pain.

  Yet his dick riveted her. She licked her lips when moisture beaded the slit. Could he feel the breeze glide over that tip?

  What would it be like to suck him? She'd never given a blowjob before, but she was game. She knew the basics, and he'd said he would welcome questions. They'd figure it out.

  His hands finally reached their destination, his growl giving her shivers. His splayed fingers squeezed. In a dazed tone, he grated, "Fuck me, Lila."

  I'm contemplating it.

  He moved his grip to her hips. Her eyes widened when he rubbed his horns over the curves of her ass. Sounding as lost as he looked, he muttered in Demonish, "Desire me, beauty, as I desire you."

  She couldn't answer, wasn't supposed to understand him. She jolted when he nipped her with his teeth. "Oh!"

  Then came more rubbing with his horns. They were shockingly warm. From the sun, or were they always?

  The tower's engravings had featured horns again and again; demons seemed to revere them. A male demon was supposed to love it when his partner steered his course with them--or held on to them for dear life.

  I really want to touch Abyssian's horns.

  He froze. "I heard that thought."

  Shit! She'd have to be more careful with her blocks.

  He spun her around, putting her sex in front of his face. Would he go down on her right now?

  "Gods almighty, what I wouldn't do for a taste of your sweet flesh." Seeming to give himself a shake, he rasped, "But first my mate will have her wish. Touch me."

  "Will you lower your head?"

  He did. Signs of Abyssian's might surrounded her. He had dominion over lethal predators, volcanoes, her. Yet the legendary king of hell was on his knees, making himself vulnerable to her. That concession meant so much.

  His chest was still--holding his breath? When she ran the pads of her fingers across the base of one large horn, he loosed a ragged exhalation.

  Again that heady sense of power swept her up. "I didn't expect it to be so warm." The length straightened even more. "How well can you feel through them?"

  He tensed, as if her question had provoked him. "They are extremely sensitive organs. I feel pleasure--and pain."

  "Do you want me to stop?"

  He hastily said, "Keep touching me."

  Her fingers were stark against the black smoothness. Growing more aroused, she caressed his other horn, and it straightened as well.

  "Lila . . ." He bowed his head even more. "I've no defense against you." Though he quaked harder, she felt as if she were gentling him. A small fey's touch was taming this great beast of a demon.

  When she impulsively leaned down to press her lips to one horn, he made a broken sound.

  "Was that wrong?"

  "Right." He reached around to grip her ass. "I just don't know how much more I can take."

  A thought blasted through her mind. And it wasn't hers.

  --She will be the death of me.--

  Moments ago, he'd picked up one of her thoughts; had she just read Abyssian's mind?

  Or was she losing her own?

  Maybe the throne of hell brought more perks with it than she'd ever expected. . . .

  Kneading her ass, he said, "Now I want you on my tongue. Knee over my shoulder, Lila."

  She swallowed. "Um, okay."

  Before she could lift her leg, he muttered, "Wait." He canted his head, seeming to listen for something. "Godsdamn it, I have to return." He shuddered as he rose.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I've sensed an entry into our dimension."

  He could do that? "An enemy?"

  Abyssian grated, "As of this moment forward, yes."

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Of all the bloody bad timing . . .

  An entry into Sian's realm had pinged his consciousness. Muttering a vile curse, he grasped Calliope's elbow, teleporting her to their room.

  He'd just been a heartbeat away from tasting her, inhaling his mate's tantalizing scent--about to feast on her.

  While she'd been stroking his horns! How many times had he fantasized about that same scenario over the last ten millennia?

  Fuck the defense of Pandemonia.

  No, no, he now had a mate to protect; defense was more important than ever.

  After steadying her, he traced to his dressing room. Brushing sand from his knees, he stabbed his legs into trews, struggling to tie the laces over his bulging cock.

  Had he really been partway inside his mate?

  She'd donned her robe by the time he returned. "What's going on?"

  "Kingdom concerns. Stay here. I'll be back to escort you to dinner." He briefly took her lips again, reluctant to release her.

  Sudden impact rocked the castle. From the throne tower?

  She grabbed his hand. "What concerns?"

  "There's no danger to you. I'll take care of this."

  "Okay. Go. I can keep myself occupied."

  "That's what I'm worried about. Don't take the edge off your need." He pressed a kiss to her palm. "Wait and allow me to tend to you."

  She nodded breathlessly.

  He traced to the throne room, baring his fangs for a confrontation.

  Uthyr had just collapsed onto the terrace. Scorch marks covered him. He was missing scales and looked exhausted.

  "What happened to you, dragon?"

  Uthyr's chest heaved, emitting wheezing puffs of smoke. --You happened to me, demon!--

  "Explain."

  --I flew to the Vrekeners' mountain to watch the queen's television, a season finale. But when I was ready to return here and check on your progress, someone had decided to lop off that realm. With me in it!--

  Sian pinched his forehead. "My apologies, Uthyr. How did you manage to get back here?"

  --Let's just say it involved a lot of firepower and many transdimensional connections.-- His streams of fire burned tunnels to other worlds. --Since I was already out, I journeyed to Gaia to visit Rune in Louisiana. But weakness hindered my invisibility. I was seen by drunken mortals! They called me a Mardi Gras float. What in the hells is that?--

  Sian shrugged, eager to get back to his mate.

  --When I didn't give them moon pies, they hurled beads at me!--

  Indeed Uthyr had colorful beads dangling from his horns. The dragon's scaled brow furrowed as he took in Sian's expression. --Why do you look not miserable?--

  "Much has occurred here as well." Shoulders back, he said, "I wed Calliope yesterday." He needed to get her a wedding gift. He'd procure jewels for her from one of Graven's rooms.

  Setting aside his ire, Uthyr said, --She accepted your appearance? Your past treatment of her?--

  Sian rubbed the back of his neck. "I made a bargain with her not to invade Sylvan. I vowed that the Morior would leave those inhabitants in peace."

  Uthyr rolled his golden eyes. --Still playing your games?--

  "Maybe I know of no other way."

  --Wait, all of the inhabitants? Some of Magh's line reside in Sylvan. Rune will go apoplectic to be denied his vengeance.--

  "I'll make
him understand."

  --Let me know how that works out for you.-- He sighed. --Of all the times for Orion to sleep.--

  As if Sian and Rune would need some kind of intervention?

  --Have you claimed your mate?--

  He shook his head. "She will let me know when she is ready."

  --Finally, an iota of sense from you. I don't suppose you've told her your appearance will continue to change.--

  "No. I want to give her a chance to cleave to me, if that's possible. And it might just be." Her smoldering sensuality had staggered him. "She is demonstrating facets I never saw before."

  She'd wanted to touch him! Her tender caresses on the beach had set him aflame. He could scarcely believe she'd kissed his horns. And all the while, the maddening scent of her arousal had deepened.

  Maybe she did belong here in hell. With him.

  --What facets?--

  Sian couldn't stop his grin. "She's a lusty one."

  --Lucky demon.--

  "Gods, dragon, that female is bliss embodied." She'd already ruined him for all other females.

  --You've forgiven her for everything in the past?--

  Sian's grin faded as if never there. "I try to turn my mind from it, but I fear the past will be like a drop of acid, seething forever." Even in the midst of such pleasure on the beach, he'd been reminded of losing his horns. "I can't relive certain memories without erupting into a rage." The amputation and her reaction . . .

  --Excellent foundation for an eternal union. What will you do about heirs?--

  When Sian tried to picture his offspring--a possibility that was actually in reach--he couldn't see anything but pups with pointed ears and demonic tempers.

  Yet he knew such thinking was idiocy. "I'd never pressure Calliope to bear a dark fey. She'd probably be horrified if I brought up the prospect." She'd reached for that contraception ring quickly enough.

  --Tell her how you truly feel, even if your pride fights you.--

  "I will. In time. I have this under control."

  --Of course you do. Why listen to a wise dragon like myself?-- With a surly look, Uthyr licked a gash across his forepaw.

  "I am sorry about your troubles, brother."

  --I'll need to sleep this off for a couple of days.--

  Sian nodded. "How are Rune and Josephine?"

  --Settling in nicely, and so in love it'd be sickening if Josephine didn't "jank" on him so much.-- She took zero guff from Rune, keeping him in line with her brash attitude. --I told them you have found your mate. They plan to stop by soon to meet her.--

  Which would give Sian scant time to get through to Calliope, to change a view she'd held all her life. . . .

  THIRTY-NINE

  Lila crossed to the terrace railing, unable to summon a flicker of worry about Abyssian's kingdom concerns; she knew he would take care of any trespasser. Only an idiot would attempt to breach this castle.

  The sea serpents had returned to frolic in the waves, their scales aglow in the setting sunlight. She'd witnessed fiery sunsets in Florida, but this was ridiculous. Feverish red and orange battled to steal the sky, the sight mind-boggling.

  And I'm queen of this place. . . .

  Eager to try out her new closet again, she headed back inside, replaying the way Abyssian had kissed her palm earlier. What had that look in his eyes promised?

  Though they'd almost had sex, she wasn't ready for more of that. Yet. But oral? Sign me up.

  At the fireplace, she drew up short. The Lotan head was gone.

  Her gaze took in the bare stone above the hearth. The spot where the Lotan had hung was darker than the rest. That thing must've resided there for eons.

  Yet Abyssian had removed the sacred demonic trophy. For her.

  Pang.

  An existence here would be far different from her dream existence in Sylvan, but what if two beings as dissimilar as she and the demon could eke out a future together? If she could manage his moods . . .

  Getting attached to him wasn't the smartest thing she could do--not with her background--but she couldn't just turn off her feelings, despite how little she knew about him.

  I know him as well as he knows me. A sobering thought.

  She meandered down the hall toward her wardrobe, but two gold doors past her own beckoned. Feeling like Bluebeard's wife, she opened the first one. Abyssian's dressing room.

  Inside, she found pairs of his usual leather pants and boots, and a few more formal garments. Several white tunics had fastenings on the back to accommodate his wings.

  Along the farthest wall, he'd organized swords and other medieval weapons, but an ax held a place of honor among the rest.

  Abyssian Infernas's legendary battle-ax.

  No one would ever believe how close she'd gotten to it. She tentatively touched the dark metal. As cool as he was warm. She sensed the history of this weapon, but couldn't imagine how many lives it'd taken.

  She traced the edge of the blade, testing its sharpness. Blood rose along a thin slice. Regeneration began to tingle.

  Immortality had its perks.

  What would she find in the other room? Bluebeard's wife wanted to know. Lila might no longer be in hell as a spy--she'd fulfilled her role--but she still had a fey's curiosity.

  She exited the dressing room, then tried the second door. Open.

  His study! She breezed inside, raising a brow at the Lotan trophy hanging on a wall. Better here than in the bedroom. She made a face at the monster head.

  Atop a large stone desk were stacks of papers. An antique hand mirror served as a paperweight. Why would he have a mirror like that on his desk? She couldn't see him gazing at his reflection.

  Going through Abyssian's things might jeopardize their fragile new start . . . but his papers were on top of his desk, weren't they? She wouldn't go digging to get to private stuff or anything.

  Of course, he would feel comfortable leaving everything out in the open because he didn't know she could read Demonish. She was going to have to tell him about that soon.

  She sifted through his letters, all handwritten--because the Internet didn't exist here. A definite strike against Pandemonia.

  E-mail vs. sea serpents . . .

  Several letters were in languages she'd never seen. She'd have to ask Abyssian how many he knew.

  A note with dainty writing caught her attention. Definitely a woman's hand. But Lila couldn't make out the language.

  When she thought of all the females he'd been with over his lifetime, the sheer number, jealousy scalded her.

  She recalled her emotionless mother telling her that Saetth would keep a mistress after the wedding, because "that's what kings do."

  Through calm, logical reasoning, Lila had concluded that his keeping a mistress wouldn't work for her; in her mind, a king and queen needed to be a unified front--without others' interests coming between them.

  When Lila imagined Abyssian with other females, nothing felt calm or logical.

  A scroll of paper caught her attention. She removed the ribbon and unfurled the page, finding Demonish written in another woman's hand.

  Lila read:

  Felicitations on your marriage to your fey mate, my great king. Your harem humbly beseeches you to visit the Tower of Lusts in order to begin seeding your line of succession. The Infernas Dynasty awaits its illustrious continuation.

  Tower of Lusts? How freaking cute. The joke was on them; he still had his demon seal.

  Once he was free of it, would he go back to his harem? Though she'd become convinced of his growing attachment to her, Lila couldn't give him red-blooded heirs.

  He'd said he wanted pups but would never father a baneblood. She gazed down at her ring. It wasn't a wedding band; it was a contraception method.

  Not only that, he'd warned her that he liked challenge and variety. He'd point-blank told her he intended to keep a queen and a harem. That'd been last night.

  Her eyes widened. He hadn't been speaking hypothetically! He'd known she was his
mate from the start, so he'd been referencing her as the queen in question.

  She'd been so confident when she told him that hell would freeze over before she became one among his other females. As of today, he might have put her into the rotation. He could be in the Tower of Lusts with one--or more--of them right now.

  Inhaling a deep breath, she rolled up the page and returned the ribbon. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions. Having never felt jealousy before, she had no idea how to handle it.

  Be logical, Lila. But logic backed up her conclusions! How many warrior kings would go without heirs? Why would Abyssian stop seeing professional lovers who kept him "very satisfied" and catered to his "every filthy desire"?

  He had a freaking tower in his castle devoted to lust!

  His dynasty did await, and once he lost his seal with Lila, he could--as he'd put it--plant his seed in every field but a fey's. Her field. Again, he'd known she was his at the time.

  She imagined him having young with those twelve females and grew queasy. Abyssian would never let her sleep with another male, much less have a baby with one. Would she be forced to live in a castle with all her husband's children--and none of her own?

  Fuck that. The need to lash out at him burned inside her. Perhaps she could use her newly discovered power over him. . . .

  You can look, demon, but you can't touch.

  She hastened to her dressing room. The closet produced one brazenly sexy dress after another.

  She settled on a scandalous number, a backless ruby-red gown with a halter top. The material of the halter was no mere silk. . . .

  After bathing, she drew on black hose and red garters, then slipped on the gown. She wore her hair up. He seemed to love nuzzling her ears, so she accentuated them with dangling onyx earrings.

  What would he think?

  Half an hour later, he appeared in the bedroom, freshly showered and formally dressed.

  She purred, "I've been waiting for you."

  His sharp exhalation was worth any embarrassment.

  FORTY

  My mate has discovered her wiles, Sian thought as he surveyed her at the dinner table.

  From the waist up of her red dress, the material was transparent, and gods help him, her breasts were free. How was he supposed to make it through this meal?

  Seated to his right, she sipped her wine, gazing around the room with an air of boredom. She'd barely touched her plate.

  She was angry with him, but he had no idea what could've happened in the interval between when he'd left and when he'd returned.