Once he felt the stillness settle on him, he wove around people, ignoring the women who called out to him. His target was set and nothing short of a bomb would keep him from getting to her. The deeper into the throng he dove the angrier he became. Too many fucking people, too many scents diluting hers, and too much distance between them.
Find, fuck, claim. The words returned, only louder. Desire and anger drove his steps. As he brushed against the people at the party he could feel their needs and wants slip into his mind like silk. All it took was a touch and he knew what it would take for them to sell their souls. Carver hated that part of his nature and ignored it. He focused on tracking Sera.
Underneath the sweat, the mélange of perfumes, the confusion of pheromones and hormones—underneath it all he found the natural perfume that haunted his imaginings, his nighttime fantasies and wet dreams. He narrowed down his focus, weeding out all the other aromas to find hers. He used his demon sight to find her aura, a bright, vibrant trail of purples, reds, yellows, oranges, shot through with threads of black energy. It stood out like a sun among all the other dulled hues.
Her aura contained more than just her mood; it allowed him to read her. Her sexual desire became clearer as he approached, as well as her sadness and disappointment. The demon screamed in his head, a wild screeching cry. He would wipe every last trace of that asshole from her memory.
It had eaten away at him, knowing she was connected to Arthur, that asshat of an ex. Once he saw an opening he’d sent Thorn in. His best friend had gotten Arthur alone and given him an ultimatum: break up with Sera or become hellhound chow. The little coward had shit his pants and promised to leave her.
Carver hadn’t wanted to cause her pain but she deserved so much more than that piece of shit. The bastard had been using her to make another woman jealous. He was not worthy of her love.
Things grew even worse when Carver and Thorn had brought the issue up with her mother, who had known what Arthur was doing the whole time and let it happen. It had taken everything in him not use his demonic powers to compel her to leave town without a word, or to open up a portal to a distant planet and send her hurtling through it.
But no, they would let Sera’s mother stay in the picture, for Sera’s sake. Eventually the truth would come out and they would be there to pick up the pieces. How it would affect her leap, her black panther community, would be up to her.
Carver drew comfort from the way Sera had set up her life. Pride filled him as he turned over all her accomplishments. Very few shifters left their respective communities and thrived in their ventures. Sera had a job, her own home, and friends who loved her. What more could you want in life? Well…true mates who would fulfill her heart’s desire in a hot second. Carver believed, without a doubt, that he and Thorn were the mates she needed, if only she would let them in and give them a chance.
Carver made his way out of the main hall where the party was being held and into the darker, quieter part of the house. He stretched out his senses to find out if there was anyone nearby besides himself and Sera. A few people were moving on the periphery, but no one close enough to disturb them. They would have privacy.
Should he tell her about the meeting with her mother? Carver didn’t want to start things off with Sera on a lie by omission. She had turned both him and Thorn down flat. In Francine’s world, men who owned and operated a mere coffee house were not worth her time. He doubted Sera felt that way, but it had given him pause. There was more hanging on tonight than just sex. If she accepted them both, it told him that she could look beyond appearances to what mattered. He and Thorn were men who would love, fight, and die for her if need be.
As Carver followed her aura and scent, he allowed his mind to turn over the possibilities of what could happen. One thing was for sure—sex was on the menu. Maybe in the morning they could talk. For now he needed to make sure she would be open to the both of them. Her trail led him to the back of the house, toward the sun-room.
The sun-room had the best views of the gardens. The entire back wall was made up of floor-to-ceiling windows, and it also had enough tall foliage to block the view and allow a modicum of privacy. His cock jerked at the thought of maybe getting caught or putting on a show for a few discreet and discerning voyeurs who’d be lucky enough to watch as he and Thorn pleasured Sera into pure bliss. He wasn’t into exhibition per se, but if you fucked in a public place you could end up with an audience. That was part of the thrill. But if said spectators couldn’t be discreet he’d deal with them personally. He refused to have Sera’s reputation besmirched by prudes.
By the time he arrived at his destination his skin burned and sweat bathed his face. His fingertips stung as the demon part of him pushed to be let loose. He paused to push that part of himself down. It wouldn’t do to scare her away. He hung back in the darkened entrance, not wanting to announce his presence just yet. For a moment he wanted to observe her mood and adjust his plan if need be.
She stood in the middle of the space, her body relaxing bit by bit, the emotions that he had witnessed earlier fading away until all that was left was the second-nature alertness that all shifters possessed. He sensed that her feline counterpart was at ease. Her black panther counterpart was not someone he wanted to meet. Once in feline form he knew her irises would become a bright, lamplight yellow. She’d also have a rich pelt of black fur. It would take time and a lot of pain for her to pull back the change. Pain was something he didn’t want to cause her—at least not in that sense. Would she enjoy the riding crop or want something stronger? Maybe a flogger or a paddle? A little slap and tickle wouldn’t hurt anyone.
A fever crawled over his skin as the demon rushed up to destroy Carver’s self-control. He ordered it back and waited, allowing the seconds to tick by while the demon pulled back like a receding tide. Once it was back deep down he exhaled and stilled, waiting to be discovered.
She didn’t even look in his direction. What could be preoccupying her so much she didn’t even acknowledge him?
He gazed at her form. He loved her outfit. It was not really a costume, just something simple and dressy. The top part of her skirt hugged her hips lovingly and showed her rounded ass to perfection. Her corset lifted her small breasts, offering just a hint of cleavage. Her hair was a mass of soft waves that framed her face perfectly. She had delicate features and wide, hazel eyes that were a warm mix of brown, green, and gold, and at times they turned to amber.
Carver focused his attention on the gentle curve of her cheeks. They begged to be cupped by his palms. He yearned to dot a kiss on her pert nose. Her lush, rosebud mouth was a temptation all on its own, with its plush lower lip that just pleaded to be sucked, worried, and nibbled.
He held back a groan at the thought of that plump flesh wrapped around his dick. Arousal swirled low in his groin, filling his cock. The shaft jerked and throbbed and his balls tightened, bringing him closer to climax. The demon tried to rise up, but with a force of will he pushed it away. Not yet. The damned thing hissed but retreated into his dark cavern to pace. Always pacing.
In a room full of people he could control himself, distract the creature. Alone with her he was tempted to run free. Screw Thorn for not being here. Without Thorn here to stop him and calm him down he could feel the thread of his self-control shred to pieces. He could taste the musk and sweetness of her shifter heat on the air, along with the darker desires she kept from the surface. Images flashed through his mind of what she would want and need during sex. A rush of heat had his skin tightening just a little and an ache started on the crown of his head. Damn it. Where was Thorn? He didn’t dare take his eyes off of her. There was no way he would let her slip out of the back and into the garden.
Carver took in a deep, cleansing breath. He had to approach her with calm. He had to look as harmless as possible—well, as harmless as a man dressed like a priest could look. Again the demon tried to surge up and the demonic flush slipped over his skin like heated silk.
At least
he wasn’t a vampire. If he had been, his fangs would be out and his eyes would take on a red sheen. He shuddered at the thought. Some assumed that demons and vampires were distant cousins, or at least cut from the same cloth. Nothing could be further from the truth. Demons had once been angels but had fallen from grace. Vampires had been humans who had used blood magic to become what they were now.
In an unguarded moment Carver studied Sera’s face. Emotions flitted across her features like fallen leaves. To most they’d be unfathomable, but to someone who’d watched her closely he could pick each one out with ease. He saw worry, sadness, fatigue, fear, and desire. She was an open book to him. Sera wore her heart on her sleeve but tried to hide it. With patience and time a person could learn all her secrets, and Carver wanted to do just that.
His skin tightened, and his heart hammered out a staccato beat in his chest. His stomach muscles clenched in anticipation as his breathing ticked up a notch. He fisted and relaxed his hands. Nervous energy jittered through his blood. He felt as though he’d swallowed a large mug of black coffee. He was too energized to focus. It was as if he’d returned to his gangly youth and had no idea how to talk to a woman.
He licked his lips and just spoke up, letting whatever came out be his opening gambit. “You’re a far way from safety, Seraphena.”
Even to his own ears, his voice sounded too deep. There was an edge of roughness to it. Why the fuck did he have to sound so stalker-y? He could have kicked himself for what he’d just said.
He watched her ease turn to fear. The sharp metallic scent of alarm was like a bullet sounding in the quiet room. It drowned out all of her other emotions.
Carver opened his mouth to apologize, to say something else, anything to soothe her, but his inner demon took that moment to push forward. One thing that brought out the beast in him was the chase. The demon wanted her to run from him so he could hunt her down and claim her. Demons were like shifters in that regard, and yet they were far more dangerous. Carver’s fire magic danced close to the surface of his skin, ready to cage and keep his prey.
Lava poured into his body, thick and binding, until he couldn’t move or breathe without feeling it all around him. His senses sharpened. He heard her heartbeat, like a steady drum in his head. He could feel the warmth of her skin increase in slow increments. He watched, with heightened vision as she parted her lips, and the delicate tip of her tongue flicked out to wet them. Her pupils widened and her breathing increased.
He wanted to feel the tip of her tongue tracing a circle around his nipples, down his stomach to swirl a pattern over his navel before moving down to tease and torment his throbbing cock. He watched her mouth, wishing he could feel that humidity ghosting over his skin and the press of her flesh to his. He imagined her tormenting and teasing him, testing the very self-control that was almost shattered to pieces. The demon hissed in its cave. It moved with a slinking grace that reminded him of a snake.
With a silent growl he cursed himself and pushed the demon back once again, not as far down as he would have liked, but it was all he could muster.
Her arousal wrapped around him like a blanket. Her musk was intoxicating; there was a depth and a sweetness and a subtle bite to it. He wanted to find the source, bury himself in it until she came for him over and over again, until she could neither run nor walk away from him, until she no longer feared him.
Wariness darted across her face. He took a moment to inhale and exhale, trying to adjust to this new situation. The question of his competence showed in her eyes. He realized in a flash that she assumed he was drunk. And he realized a moment later that she was right. If you could get inebriated on a person’s presence then yes, he was drunk and he wanted more.
The pull to move closer, to touch her, made his skin itch and palms tingle. The room seemed so damn big and she felt too far away. But he had to assure her that he wasn’t here to hurt her.
“I won’t hurt you, Sera. I just want to talk.” His voice echoed back at him, sounding distant, as if it came from somewhere behind her. Shit. He hadn’t meant to allow his demonic magic into the game yet. Voice projection was one of the most basic tricks demons had up their sleeves. They used it to lure or scare their victims, and it was a talent they learned to control early. He wanted to slap his forehead, back away and leave her alone, but found himself rooted to the spot. His feet refused to obey him. His legs were so tense he thought they’d break off.
His head continued to throb and his balls ached as the pressure inside of him rose. Any second now he expected to come in his pants. That would be a sure way to drive her away. He was that damn close. If he moved a hand to squeeze his cock would that frighten her?
If only Thorn was there. Thorn would have been able to talk to her. Carver closed his eyes and prayed that Sera wouldn’t run off on him before he had a chance to explain. It was unacceptable that a demon of his ilk would pull such a rookie maneuver. He’d spent years honing his abilities and self-control. Only a few minutes around Sera and he’d turned into an idiot.
He watched as she turned around, ready to pounce, searching for the source of his echoing voice. Her gaze darted around the room before settling on him. Something glittered in her eyes, making them glow a soft gold. It was both eerie and enticing at the same time. He wanted to move toward those eyes.
“Then turn on the light and stop these games.”
For a second he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her right. She wanted him to turn on the lights? He let out a breath and thanked the old gods that she hadn’t sent him away or run from him. Thorn would have his hide if that happened.
He reached out and patted around until he found the switch. Soft yellow illumination spilled over the room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he loved what he saw. Whether bathed in darkness or full light, Sera was gorgeous. His palms itched to touch her, to trace her curves, to show her without words how much he adored her. He tried to relax and show her he was harmless. It didn’t seem to be working. His body felt foreign, an achy, throbbing, overheated thing on the verge of eruption. Was this what a volcano felt like?
Sera bobbed her head at him, causing her hair to shift a bit against her cheek. “Thanks.”
Tension still hung around her and the colors of her aura had darkened. Carver watched the swirl of rich crimson and midnight blue, the deep gold and pumpkin orange, the threads of black and spirals of purple. As she relaxed, she allowed her hormones to break free and her desire to nudge its way back up to the surface.
Carver responded automatically, hypnotized by the color show. The demon part of him rose up, like silk filling him, until it was too late to stop it. He found himself spouting off words without knowing what they meant. Desire swirled in his gut, saturating his body with fire and need. It wasn’t until he stood before her, his body pressed against hers, that he realized he’d moved.
She felt so warm, so alive and vibrant. Her pupils had dilated, her heart rate had doubled and her breaths came out in soft puffs that caressed his skin and sent goose bumps over his bare arms. He had to taste her, had to connect with her on a deeper level. Unable to fight himself any longer he lowered his head and kissed her.
Perfection. Electricity shot through his system, stealing his breath and causing his heart to stutter. His thoughts went blank. All he could feel was her body against his. All he could taste was the cool, fruity wine she’d had earlier. His thoughts centered on keeping the connection, continuing on in the moment. Her breasts pillowed against his chest. He could feel her nipples through the thin fabric of her corset. Her hips filled his palms, allowing him a firm hold. The only thing that could make this moment better was if they were both naked. Heat rippled down his spine and rolled around his balls. His cock jerked against the leather. The material cocooned his shaft in softness, only adding to his desire.
Carver’s lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, but he kept his mouth sealed to hers. He didn’t dare try to push for more, didn’t dare break the moment. What if th
is was a dream? What if she evaporated as soon as he lifted his head? He didn’t move, not even an inch. If he gave her a second to think, she could turn this into something bad or dirty. Her arousal was driving him crazy. It merged with his own libido until he couldn’t tell the difference.
His fingers itched to sink into her hair and get a good grip, but he kept them where they were. An image appeared in his mind of her tied down to the bed with leather straps, blindfolded, awaiting the dual pleasure that only he and Thorn could give. It stole what little breath he had left. His thoughts swirled and his body burned as his cock throbbed and he was pushed closer to climax. He felt close to passing out.
Unable to hold off any longer, he pulled back, letting out a gasp as his body trembled. Pleasure rocked him to the core, making it difficult to think.
“Carver?” Sera’s palm pressed against his cheek, cooling some of the ardor. The soothing touch allowed him to think but only for a second.
His name on her lips was like a gun going off next to his ear. He jerked back and gazed down at her as beads of sweat slipped down his temple and traced a path along his jaw. Shame filled him at almost losing control. He’d forgotten where he was, who he was with.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I forgot myself.”
His voice was a hoarse whisper that grated on his ears. His senses were still sharpened. As the moisture slipped over his flesh it felt like ants skittering over his skin. He shivered and tried to step back, but she didn’t remove her hand and he didn’t want to break contact. Instead, he took slow deep breaths and focused on her. The demonic flush rippled over his torso and spread down his legs.
“It’s OK. I’m here if you need me.” She nibbled on her bottom lip and worry filled her now-golden eyes. Flecks of bronze and green glinted at him from her irises. He could feel her shifter magic dancing on the air, mingling with his demonic essence. Her aura pulsed with bright, vibrant colors—pinks, sky blues, lilacs, mint greens, and whites streaked with silver. He felt settled and calmed by the sight. Desire still buzzed around his body, but he felt better with her hand on his cheek. She stroked his skin, her silken fingertips brushing against his stubble, making him wish he’d shaved. The rasping sound in his ears made him cringe.
Making Demons Purr (Flushed and Fevered Book 2) Page 3
