Demon Moon

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Demon Moon Page 3

by Cameron Dane


  “Cassandra does good work,” Connor finally answered, his tone even and low. “She never gives me any cause to complain.”

  “Awful easy on the eyes, too.” Hank raised a thick, white brow. “Not to mention as sweet as a honeysuckle one minute and as blazing alive like a fiery jalapeño the next. The man who ends up with her is going to be one lucky son of a bitch.”

  “She’s too young to be thinking like that.” Connor fairly growled the words to Hank. “She’s got a lot of living to do before she settles down with a man.”

  Hank slid a sly glance Connor’s way that made his blood run cold. “Then I guess it’s a good thing for her that all the living she wants to do can be found right here on this land. See you later, boss.” Hank slid his hands in his pockets and started to amble away in the direction of the paddock.

  “Wait a minute!” Connor whispered furiously as he caught up to Hank. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean? Does she have a thing for one of the hands?” Connor knew Cassie viewed Hank as a bit of a surrogate father and so might confide something important like a crush to him. “What did she say to you?”

  “Not a damn thing.” Hank climbed up on the paddock fence and draped his arms over the top rung. “Just got eyes in my head that can see a thing or two, boss.” Hank gave Connor not an ounce more attention, as was due a hard-nosed boss like Connor, instead shifting his focus to the young woman on her knees in the dirt.

  “Hey, little girlie,” Hank called out to Cassie, “I’m done working Cain’s horses for the day. You ready for a break?”

  Cassie glanced up from her work, turning the purest green eyes Connor had ever seen up on the both of them. Those eyes had the immediate power of sucking the air right out of his lungs, and then quickly filling up his cock with blood. He shifted against the paddock and used one of the poles to cover his rapidly thickening prick.

  “You always know how to read my mind, Hank.” Cassie smiled. “I’ll be ready to give it up before too much longer.” She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her denim shirt and handed off one of the braying young steers before taking on the task of holding down one side of another calf. “After all, we’ve got a Halloween party to get dressed up for tonight.” Her gaze slid to Connor’s and held. “That is, if everyone is going?”

  Connor didn’t mistake the piercing stare as being for Hank. “We’ll see, Cassandra.” Christ, he couldn’t help the need that lived inside him to make her happy when he could. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You would have such a good time, Connor,” Cassie promised. She grunted as she struggled to hold on to the animal in her arms, but she managed to multi-task the chore like no one he’d ever known. She kept the struggling animal steady for his other brother, Caleb, to snip off its personals, and still managed to keep her gaze trained on Connor. “I’ll make sure you don’t brood in a corner by yourself. I’ll even dance with you all night if you want me to. Just say you’ll come.”

  “Yeah, Con.” Caleb threw Connor a quick smirk over his shoulder. “Say you’ll come.”

  “Shut it, Caleb.” Connor glared at his brother, but only got his back. He dropped his attention back to Cassandra, found her gaze open and waiting for him, and muttered, “All right, I’ll probably come.”

  “See, Caleb, I told you he would.” Cassie broke out into a huge, infectious smile that could have lit up the whole Montana sky if only it weren’t still daylight. She turned it on Connor, and it hit him right in the groin, making him harder than he’d ever been before.

  He mumbled something about having work to do and got the hell out of there before at least one of his two secrets was found out.

  And that was how goddamned much he wanted Cassandra Claire.

  * * * * *

  Connor was drawn to the open window in his bedroom, unable to deny the pull Cassandra evoked in him, even with two hundred yards of land and the front wall of his home between them. Without the fear of being seen and found out, he could look at her to his heart’s content. Without having to hide from the curious gazes of others, he could drink in her rare, real beauty, something unique that didn’t require makeup or an expensive haircut to embellish it. He could admire her without the terror of anybody noticing. He could indulge in the ache Cassandra stirred in his cock without worrying that it would be seen, and his secret revealed.

  Connor was able to admit it, at least to himself. He was enthralled. It was more than Cassandra’s face and body that flamed his passions to life, although in his mind that was plenty. It was also her rich, throaty laughter that carried on the light, cool breeze up to his window and sank into his soul. It tore at his control, stirring that ages-old hunger to be fully human, something he’d done battle with his entire life. It was the fact that she was incredibly intelligent and well-spoken when she had something important to say, while at the same time completely able to loosen her vocabulary and manner in order to make the less educated men who worked on Hawkins’ Ranch feel completely comfortable around her. It was the way she took the good natured ribbing from the old-school cowboys and gave it right back with equal fervor, making them all a slave to her honest charm just as much as Connor was.

  There were so many things about this one young woman that made Connor dream of a possible life together, one that deep down he knew could never be. It was the fact that she just seemed to fit in to this little world he and his brothers had carved out for themselves that made him want her so damned much, in every conceivable way.

  Laughter erupted down by the paddock, drawing Connor’s focus back into the present. Cassandra was no longer down on her knees holding onto cattle; in fact, no one was. Everyone had gathered in a small circle just outside the corral. Cassandra had her arm around Hank’s back with her forehead buried against his shoulder. Her entire body was shaking, and she held a hand to her stomach. Connor could only think that Caleb had told one of his ridiculously raunchy rodeo stories, embellishing it with gratuitous bathroom humor in only the way Caleb could.

  Cassandra’s pure happiness slammed Connor right in the gut, and then moved quickly lower to his already fully erect cock. He imagined that it was him Cassandra held onto down by the paddock, that it was him she let go around without inhibitions or fear, that it was him she stroked down the small of his back until he trembled with desire, completely under her power. Christ, he wanted her so fucking badly, and it was in moments like these when even his vaunted control was no match for what his body needed.

  It was too much. He was too hard to ignore the pain or talk himself down. He needed, just this once, to close his eyes and let go.

  Connor staggered to the bathroom on unsteady legs, his cock pressing so hard against the inside of his jeans he couldn’t stand up straight. He pulled at his western yoke shirt, the popping of the snaps piercingly loud in the cavern of the big, cold bathroom. He tore the fitted cotton material off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, forgotten. He fumbled with his belt buckle, his hands clumsy in his haste, and pushed his jeans and underwear down just to his hips, just enough to spring his aching cock free.

  His erection reared up against his stomach heavy and thick, needful of relief. He was already leaking a river of pre-cum, but he squeezed out a dollop of unscented moisturizer into his palm anyway and wrapped his fist around his prick, certain he needed to be slick for the task. He needed to come. Fast. He reached out and braced himself against the wall over the bath, stiff-arming his body over the claw-footed porcelain tub, and started to rub.

  Connor moaned low in his throat as the base, sinful sensations hit him full on. He dragged his hand up and down his turgid cock, working his dick to pulsating, excited life. His prick swelled painfully in his hand, and his slit wept thick tears of pleasure. A familiar tightness rolled though Connor’s muscles, and he knew he was close. He didn’t pretend ignorance as to why. Cassandra. He wanted her so desperately that his mind tricked his body into thinking it was her capable hand stroking him; that it was Cassandra down on her knees befo
re him trying to make him come.

  Connor’s imagination was good. Too good. He dragged on his penis with a hard hand and let go of the wall to play with his balls, in just the way he imaged Cassandra could do. It wasn’t long before the dark sexual forces roiling within him simply became dark forces, period. The demon within Connor, the hated piece of him that was in truth a full companion to the human man he solely craved to be, clawed to get out and take over. The demon needed to claim the sexual release for his own, and as much as Connor never wished to see that despised part of himself, it was too powerful to control when in the throes of extreme passion and emotion, something that thinking of Cassandra while jerking off most definitely brought about.

  Connor fought against the changes pushing to get out of his body, willed himself to calm down, and send the demon away disappointed. Any other day, he might have had a chance of succeeding. Today his thoughts of Cassandra were too close to the surface, and the feelings she ripped up out of his very being were too powerful to suppress. He was going to lose this battle to the demon, he could feel it, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop him from getting out.

  Connor keened through the pain as the change happened, too lost in the throes of his need to orgasm to stamp down the hurt that sliced through his body as the demon pushed through his skin. It tore its way out, shoving the image of Connor Hawkins away into the background of his own life. Connor’s spine grew first, pushing against the flesh in his back, creating a rigid, bumpy exoskeleton from the base of his skull down to his tailbone. It all happened at once and in a matter of seconds, but Connor felt each shift to his demon body charge its way through his sensitive human flesh individually. From the defiant, exaggerated slashing cheekbones, to the protruding Neanderthal forehead that forged a deep shelf over his dark eyes, to the horns that spiked up through his skull, in the blink of an eye Connor lived through the cutting pain of the change.

  Until finally the image of Connor Hawkins, the man, was no more, and only the demon remained.

  It was excruciating to feel the demon emerge, but even with that, Connor could not break free from the throes of his need for Cassandra. He couldn’t get the picture of her wrestling a young bull down to the ground out of his head. It was heady, knowing the power she had in her lithe body. All Connor could see was Cassandra tangled up around him in bed, wrestling in an altogether different kind of way. It was so real he could actually feel the muscles in her sleek thighs clamp onto his hips and hold on tight for the ride of her life. In his head, he could hear her screaming her release as he gave her exactly what she needed. The image was so acute that his cock actually experienced the pulsing of Cassandra’s tight little pussy as it fisted itself around his dick, milking him for all he was worth.

  It was more fantasy than Connor could handle, and with the demon’s sexual needs living right at the surface, Connor lost what little control he had. His heavy balls drew up unbearably tight between his legs, painfully so, and then it was all over. He clamped his fist around his erection, howling like a wounded animal as release took him over. Cum spewed from his dick, raining a shower of semen into the bathtub, emptying his body of all it had to give. He shuddered and moaned, imagining himself in the only place he wanted to be; deep inside of her. The picture was so real his cock jerked in his hand, and he came again, Cassandra’s name a cry of pleasure on his lips…

  * * * * *

  “Did you just hear that?” Cassie tilted her head to the side and perked her ear up. “I thought I heard someone say my name.”

  “Wishful thinking, I would imagine,” Caleb murmured under his breath.

  Cassie narrowed her gaze up at her surrogate brother. “What was that?” She raised a dark mahogany brow. “I don’t think I heard you.”

  The lopsided smile Caleb bestowed upon her was positively indulgent, and Cassie felt her cheeks slash with heat.

  “You know you want to go and find Connor to see if he’s really coming to the party tonight,” Caleb said. “So why don’t you just go do that and stop pretending like you’re doing it because you want to investigate some mysterious noise.”

  “So glad I have your blessing.” Cassie tucked her tongue firmly in her cheek. “Would you like to bestow any more wisdom upon my impressionable little mind before I go take a shower and get changed, oh-sultan-of-all-things-romantic?”

  “Not romantic.” Caleb winked. “Not me. I wouldn’t dare.”

  “Oh right.” Cassie planted her hand on her hip and struck an exaggerated pose. “You’re the hound dog brother. I guess if I want advice about my love life, I should talk to Cain.”

  “No.” Caleb shook his head, all teasing glint in his eyes suddenly gone. “Deep down, I don’t think he’s the brother you want for that either. Now go shower and change for the party.” He switched the subject just as quickly as he had started it, and even whacked her on the ass playfully. “Go on. I can’t wait to see you in your costume.”

  With that, Caleb wandered off in the direction of the barn, leaving Cassie standing there by the paddock, wondering if she dared to hope that Caleb might be saying what she desperately hoped he was.

  Could Caleb know how she felt about Connor? Even more than that, was he trying to tell her to go for it?

  Cassie rubbed at the back of her neck as that strange feeling washed over her again, the one that had stuck with her since waking up from that dream this morning. Sleep had eluded her after the dream. She’d needed solace and had sought the comfort of her father to pour out her secrets, and it was almost as if with every little event that had followed, he was telling her to trust her heart and go for it. Now it felt like Caleb was nudging her in that direction too.

  Cassie believed in trusting her gut. Right now, it was telling her it was time to take a risk with Connor.

  Chapter Three

  6:20 p.m.

  Connor shook his head in disgust, hating the image of his demon self as much today as he had every other time he had been forced to see it in his life. He had never been comfortable in this body, and he had hated even more the cruelty that existed in the demon world he’d abandoned as a young teenager. He was not interested in tormenting humans or making them believe they were going insane for seeing him in this grotesque body, and he was most definitely not going to live in that dark, subversive world with his demon species and many others, right alongside individuals who reveled in the very prospect of exactly that.

  He hated one thing more than all of that, though. He hated that there were times in his life when he could not control and suppress the demon that lived within him. There were times, like today, when he couldn’t keep this shameful half of his being away. Unfortunately, feeling extreme, true passion was one of them. Just the thought of being with Cassandra brought forth those lustful desires in Connor like no other in his life ever had, making the demon almost impossible to keep at bay.

  He studied the ugly face before him with a sneer of contempt for its fierceness. The fact that he was staring in a mirror and the face was his own didn’t make him any more forgiving of its forbidding black eyes, exaggerated cheekbones, and nasty ridges that made his brow sit heavy over his eyes. That didn’t even take into account the two-inch black horns that couldn’t be hidden by his thick, black hair, or the bumpy spine that practically split his back in half. Put it all on a six foot five hulking body, and he knew it was an image that not even a mother could love.

  Then again, Connor didn’t need to worry about that. He had never had a loving mother.

  Connor was the spawn of a pair of lovesick Dastetier demons. It was a ridiculous fate that he fought and cursed every day of his two hundred years of life. He truly despised being a demon, and he’d dreamt his whole life of a day when he might not be one anymore. Connor had tried a lot of things in his two hundred years, but nothing had grabbed him harder or more completely than running a ranch. He loved everything about it, from the cattle, to the smells, to the long, wearing days, to the rewards that came from working y
ourself to the bone. Hell, Connor didn’t even mind getting lanced by the occasional ornery bull that still had his horns. He had a scar or two to show for the backbreaking work. It took almost everything a body had to give, and then it demanded more, but Connor loved it right down to his core. The only thing that could make it better would be to have Cassandra as his partner, in every way.

  Connor slid his jeans back on and zipped them up, but left the button undone. He sneered at himself in the bathroom mirror again, hating himself for yearning for things he could never have. His demon face twisted ugly at him in reflection, mocking him and his desire to be human.

  But Christ, he wished that he could. To have a chance with Cassandra, Connor would do just about anything. Almost. He stared at his ugly visage and prayed for the impossible.

  The door was suddenly thrown open and filling its space was the reality of Connor’s prayers. Cassandra. And dear God, even all dusty and crusty from a hard day’s work, she was beautiful.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were in here. Oh, my God…” Cassie stumbled back into the doorjamb, her eyes widening in horror. Her gaze settled on Connor’s face. His demon face.

  Shit.

  “I can explain,” Connor began. He grabbed his shirt up from the bathroom floor and shoved his arms through the sleeves to at least get his back covered.

  “What…who…” Cassie covered her mouth, her hand shaking as her fingers touched her lips. “Connor?” Her green eyes somehow rounded even bigger.

  Fear poured out of Cassandra’s every pore. Connor felt and saw it, even from four feet away. Fear of him. Pain sliced through Connor’s core.

  He reached out, and Cassandra shrank away from his touch. Her gaze shifted to the hallway, toward escape. She glanced back at him, her eyes darting back and forth. In a flash, she bolted.

  Connor did, too.

  He lunged and grabbed her. He backed her into the door, blocking her escape. She struggled against the band of his hands around her arms, but he couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t bear the trembling he felt coursing through her body.

 

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