“Heard what?” Ash turned to look directly at Candy. She froze. Her lips parted and her breathy gasp floated over to hang in the middle of our table.
Poor thing. She couldn’t help it. Demon lords have that effect on females. All species.
I’ve managed to contain most of my gasps whenever I’m with Ash. At least a few of them. In the last day or two.
“Candy?” I prodded her with my question. Ash still held onto my hands.
She looked at me, moving and blinking slowly as if waking from a nine hour surgery. “What’s the news?” She needed another prod.
“Oh.” Her eyes cleared. “The news! You know the big speech tonight in Virtue? The one the senator is giving?”
I nodded and began to mumble the words to my calming spell. Ash’s hands tightened and I knew I hadn’t cast it quickly enough. I kept my gaze on Candy, refusing to look at him.
He had his secrets and I had mine.
“Well, the senator never showed up! No one knows where he is.”
Sadly, my secrets were about to make the headline news.
****
Ash slammed his door shut and turned fully on the seat to glare at me. “What’s going on?”
I let the seatbelt strap slide back into place. He’d hustled me out of Madge’s without any concern for my stomach or my cosmopolitan side dish.
Hunger makes me irritable. “What do you mean?” A freezer couldn’t get colder than my question. As I’ve mentioned, I have no problem with my irritable side.
“I felt the tension in your hands when Candy mentioned the senator. What scared you?”
It’s very odd how quickly Ash and I have picked up on each other’s non-verbal communication. In terms of real time, we haven’t known each other very long. In terms of soul time, he has the key to half of my locked doors.
So much for my grumpy side. I’d have to set her aside for a little two-stepping. “I met the senator today.” I didn’t lie and I didn’t answer his question. Short truths were all I had at the moment.
“You met the senator?” Ash’s powerful shoulders stiffened. His eyes narrowed, bits of amber heating in their depths.
“Yes. He came in for an interview.”
Did his chest puff out a little or did he just change positions? Nope, he was puffed up.
“In your office? Alone?”
I kept a wary eye on the red and orange flames springing to life over his shoulders. Ash gets a little heated with the more extreme emotions like passion and fury.
Side note in linguistic history here: “hot under the collar” and “hot and bothered” are both expressions that demons have sparked.
Pun totally intended.
“Yes, in my office and yes, all alone.” I crossed my arms. What was his deal? There was no way he could know about someone trying to frame me for murder. Again.
“He didn’t have any of his minions with him?” The little flames grew to big flames and began to crawl down his chest and arms. Smoke and musk combined and filled the air between us.
Minions?
Various synapses sprang to life in my brain gathering tidbits of information and connecting them together.
Ah hah.
The demon realm is made up ENTIRELY of hierarchies. The higher up you are, the more power you have. You can then do anything you want and you get your own set of lackeys, or minions.
Ash was relating politics to the various social levels in hell. The only way in that realm to move up is to fight. Demons in power are always considered potential rivals.
While I appreciated the metaphor - and the jealousy - I decided a little clarification might be in order. Before Ash set his truck on fire.
“I don’t like politics. And I really don’t like politicians.”
Ash scowled. Flames continued on their merry journey down his chest. The campfire scent grew stronger.
“Also, politicians don’t impress me and while they do hold some power they don’t have any power over me.” I laughed a little, hoping to lighten the tension. “I own a matchmaking service, not an oil company. No special favors for me.”
Ash didn’t smile. There is no glad-handing in hell. They use a more direct approach. Preferably with a large sword.
Ash has a lot of scars. And while I love a good scar, his always made my palm itch for my wand in his defense.
“The senator can’t hurt you or make you do something you don’t want to do?” The line of fire halted just above his belt.
I couldn’t begin to imagine the kind of hell he had lived through in that realm. My worst nightmares couldn’t compare.
“No.” I spoke gently, knowing this was a sensitive subject for him. “He can’t hurt me.”
The senator was dead. He couldn’t do anything anymore.
“What frightened you then?”
I’m a tit for tat witch, if he won’t tell me all his secrets, I refuse to share all the details in my life. No matter how protective and soft I might be feeling at any given moment.
“I interviewed him as a client.” Notice my careful wording? “That’s a lot of potential business for me.”
Fortunately, I’d taken a nice deposit from the senator so while I wouldn’t receive any recommendations from him, my bills were covered for the next two months.
I’m not callous, truly I’m not. I’m just immensely practical.
“You need more business?”
“It would be nice.” Like I said, swords handle most of the negotiations in hell.
Ash leaned back against the driver’s door. The sunset flickers died down. I don’t know what demons coat their leather in, but his vest, pants and leather head wraps never suffered.
It was a shame really. This demon had a body to drool over. Ripped arms, broad, broad shoulders and skin a gorgeous olive tint.
Every inch of him, powerful male.
When he flamed up, the colors and swirls caressed his skin like an adoring lover. Light and shadow highlighted his muscles. Almost as if they were beckoning me to come closer. To touch him. Trace their designs on his skin. Soothe the inner demon.
And then, coax him back into life again.
My fingers curled in a completely reflexive move.
12. Hot Demons.
As subtle as the move was, Ash noticed. Amber turned to liquid gold in his gaze, flames flickered back to life. This time cobalt with ruby tips. They shot over his shoulders.
“Time to cast a spell, Kate.”
The only way Ash and I could get close when he went hot was if I cast a protective spell over myself.
I cast my spell.
He set his big hands on my waist, squeezed and tugged me into him. My chest met his. “Spread your legs.” I did and he pulled me down flush, my legs bent and tucked alongside his hips, the juncture between my legs riding his thick erection.
Sweet Spirits. Why did we have on clothes?
I’ve dated men in the past. Came close to falling for a couple of them. But I’ve never had this kind of instantaneous reaction. It scares me.
And that little bit of fear ratchets up my desire even more.
It’s a bit kinky. Mixing danger and desire together, allowing them to blend then mesh until they were no longer separate feelings, but one. Each strong and seductive on its own, combined they created a heady, potent force that threatened to swallow me whole.
I’ve never been drawn to kink before. I don’t have a problem with it. I’ve been on the receiving end of enough discrimination to not cast judgment myself. We each are who and what we are. Good, bad and all the in betweens.
Other than a few foolish attempts, I’ve steered well clear of lust. And love. I’m cursed. It’s not like I don’t know how the relationship will end.
So this little bit of kink, this fascination with the darker side of Ash, puzzled me. And compelled me. Like a witch with her first encounter with magic, I had to follow the spell and see where it led.
Flames licked their way down his arms and chest and jumped ont
o my skin when he slid his big hands up to the back of my neck. Ash placed his thumb right under my jaw where it met the tendons of my neck, his palm and fingers wrapped around my nape. His other hand slid into my curls so I was caught completely in his grasp.
Held firm. Then tilted slightly, at the perfect angle for his kiss.
He wasted no time with the preliminaries. He parted my lips and dove in, tongue stroking, seeking, commanding. I yielded. Dueled with him. And yielded again.
A ragged moan rose up in my chest and met his. He pulled me in tight, chest to chest. Wicked little flickers of need raced all over my body, chased by shivers.
And a want so deep it made my heart stop. Then accelerate to turbo speed.
I moved my hands up his chest, smoothing the leather of his vest, feeling the play of thick muscles under my palms. I didn’t want to touch leather. I needed his skin. His heat. Ash.
Shifting backwards, I reached between us and caught the end of the tie holding his vest together. It came undone with a brief tug.
I didn’t bother to wait until the heavy material moved on its own, I grabbed the sections and pushed them over his shoulders and down his arms.
Call me Wicked, but I stopped there. The leather snug at the bend in his elbows, locking his powerful arms in place. And leaving the wide plane of his chest open and available.
His tattoo curved over his left pectoral, circling the flat brown nipple and winding around his side to continue on to his back and down his arm to his forearm. Composed of thick and thin black lines with smaller reddish flames entwined, it looks Celtic in design.
It’s beautiful. It’s also the symbol for his sin. I don’t know which one. My aunt informed me there are seven sins, one for each of the demon lords. Religion is not a topic we discuss in my coven.
I traced the graceful lines with my fingertips. They arched outward as they always do, encircling my skin, attempting to draw me in closer.
It’s not magic. Not as I know it. It’s something else, something I’ve never encountered before. A part of Ash, but also something more. Something with a will of its own.
The markings pulled on me, tugged my hand down to his shoulder, forced my palm flat so that I touched as much of his skin as I possibly could.
And it still wasn’t enough.
Even without the flames, Ash runs hot. His body temperature SEVERAL degrees higher than average. Both for the humans and the HC.
His heat pressed into my palm like a sun kissed boulder. Seductive. Tempting.
I stroked over his shoulder. The lines of his sin holding my hand down tight, trapping me in a way both commanding and unnecessary. I was right where I wanted to be.
The plane of his shoulder was so large I had to circle three times before I covered the entire area. Caressing the smooth masculine skin so similar and yet so different from my own.
I moved down over his pectoral, his muscles rippled under my touch as I traversed. Down, slowly down, until my thumb rested right above his nipple.
Ash inhaled, sharp and quick.
I stroked my thumb over the pebbled tip.
He groaned.
I knew he was very sensitive here. His big body shuddered. I didn’t have much time left.
I lowered my head and licked him, tasting his warm smoky skin and filling my senses with him.
“Kate.” He moaned.
His chest expanded as he drew in a deep breath. I closed my lips over the small nub and sucked, drawing in as much of his nipple as I could.
Ash shouted, his body arched, almost throwing me off then his muscles flexed. I heard the rip just as he gripped my head between his large hands.
He pushed my head back, forcing me to let go. His nipple escaped with a wet pop. I opened my mouth to protest, but all that came out was a gasp as he gripped my blouse and ripped it in half.
I didn’t even have time for another gasp before he had my support bra undone. My breasts fell into his hands. He cupped them and electric tingles shot down my spine from the heat and his touch. From Ash.
The warmth and callouses on his hands caressed my throbbing nipples. He turned his hands and used his thumbs and forefingers to pinch. Lightly. Then hard.
I whimpered.
He shifted his grip to my waist and lifted me to his mouth. Diabolical flames surrounded me. I arched into him. Wanting more. He immediately began to suck. Powerful draws that tugged and created an echoing clench and pull in my womb.
I slid my hands under his leather bandana. It fell backwards somewhere behind him. Running my fingers through his thick and silky black hair, I went right for the gravy spot. I gripped both of his grey horns.
Ash stiffened. He uttered a deep and ragged moan.
Demons love to have their horns stroked.
I rolled my fingers over the smooth, shell-like surface. I could wrap my hands almost totally around the glossy knobs, and if I tugged up and then down, it flat out drove Ash crazy.
He growled, the sound vibrating around my sensitive nipple.
He twisted in my grip, releasing my nipple and turning his horns as I pumped up and down. His chest rose and fell like a marathon runner. I leaned down and licked one hard tip, swirling my tongue over and over.
Ash’s head fell back. He yanked my hips flush over his and thrust up. His entire body went completely still. Heat pulsed between my legs as his cock thudded and plunged inside of his jeans. A long guttural growl erupted from his chest.
His powerful arms curved around my back, pulling me into his chest. Deliciously hard and smooth skin pressed against my breasts and I really wanted to rub against him like a cat in heat, but I knew better.
I was already in trouble.
Demons value power and control. It’s all they have in the demon realm.
Ash does not like to lose control.
I loved to watch that control fall away until there was nothing left but him in my arms.
He turned his head, rubbed his cheek gently over my curls. Stroked my back. Inhaled deeply.
Then snarled.
His grip firmed and he flexed. Slowly and deliberately. He pulled me back, lowered his head until his nose met mine and all I could see were the heated swirls in his eyes.
“Kate. You have been a very bad witch.” His husky voice beckoned all of my soft, vulnerable parts. Both threatening and promising.
My kind of demon.
I smiled. Traced one finger over his lower lip, let my other fingers stroke softly over one horn. “I think I’m a very good witch.” Ash closed his eyes, shuddered. In a heartbeat they snapped back open.
“Very, very bad.”
He shifted and lowered me to the seat. The leather shockingly cold to my skin. I yelped and arched up. He set one big hand just under my breasts and pushed me flat again.
His hands went to my waist. “They’re snaps,” I got out before he could rip them. They all came undone in one loud pop.
He shoved me along the seat until my head brushed the door. Ash reached under my hips and grabbed the waistband of my jeans, yanking them down to my knees. He flicked out a claw and sliced through my panties with two quick cuts.
He growled again, this time more of a soft purr.
I began to have doubts about taunting this particular demon.
Ash shifted some more until he leaned on my jeans, holding them in place. He caught both my wrists and pressed them together over my stomach.
My stomach is not cute or little and even lying down it’s rounded. I didn’t care for the reminder. I opened my mouth to ask him to move. Ash put two thick fingers at the opening between my legs.
I sucked in a quick breath.
He eased the tips inside of me, then scissored his fingers, stretching and circling. I went from ramped up to on the verge of exploding. The feel of him inside of me. The delicious stretch. His near constant rumble of pleasure.
Closing his fingers slightly, Ash pushed them deeper. I’d been wet since he went hot the first time so his fingers entered me easi
ly. But, Sweet Spirits, were his fingers big.
I wiggled and arched, half-hoping he would stop and at the same time, praying he wouldn’t. My heart pounded. Warning tingles raced everywhere.
Then he stopped and pulled his fingers back just as slowly.
I shrieked. I tried to pull my hands free so I could grab his hand and force him to speed up, but Ash just tightened his grip. Reminding me that he was the one in charge now.
He stopped and began to push both fingers back inside, one slow inch at a time. I moaned. Bit my lip to keep from pleading with him.
He thrust forward one more small inch.
I didn’t care what I said anymore. My entire focus was on his fingers and my impending orgasm.
“Ash. Please.” It was too much. And not quite enough.
“Please.”
He growled deep in his chest. Ash spread his thick fingers slightly, but didn’t move them.
Damn controlling demon.
I pressed my head and shoulders into the seat and lifted up. He wasn’t expecting it and his fingers went all the way inside, as deep as they could go in one abrupt thrust. Pushing me. Filling me. Controlling me.
White flashed over my vision as I exploded.
13. What Happened to Together?
“Kate,” Ash rumbled. He started to ease his fingers out, but at my moan and flinch, he stopped. Thank the Spirits, Ash is an observant demon.
I hadn’t begun to recover.
Little ripples continued to pulse through me. I tried to catch my breath. All of my nerve endings were highly tuned to everything. All of them. Especially the inner ones. Around his fingers.
Ash shifted his hand. “Do. Not. Move.” If he did that again, I was going to break down and plead. I just knew it.
If I remembered correctly, I had already done way too much of that.
That’s not really a bad thing and I wasn’t complaining exactly . . . Except, I could only hear my breathing. Harsh and ragged. Not his. Just mine.
I thought he had been as caught up as I had been. I thought I wasn’t in this alone. At least I hoped I wasn’t. But my vulnerable inner self loved to pop up at times like this . . . when I was vulnerable.
Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1) Page 8
