Making Demons Purr (Flushed and Fevered Book 2)

by Selena Illyria

  “Actually that’s where you’re wrong,” Mysta declared. “But then I don’t expect you to listen to a pet. Good luck, Francie; you’ll need it. Come on.” The snake shifter led Sera out of the house.

  “Thanks,” Sera whispered.

  “Do you know how long I’ve been dying to call her Francie? I should be thanking you. Now let’s go. I need a shower from being in that house, and you need your men; am I right?”

  “I do but after work. I need to finish up at the office.” As much as she wanted to feel the comfort of being with her men, she had things to do and she refused to abandon Bridget, regardless of what had happened with her mother.

  They arrived at the office to find smoke billowing out of the open front door. Lana and Bridget stood out front, waving away the dark gray plumes and coughing.

  “Used too much eye of newt. Or maybe my batch had gone bad.” Bridget wiped away the tears from her eyes.

  “Told you, you have to use them fresh,” Lana admonished.

  “And they were fresh! Just got them a week ago.”

  Lana rolled her eyes. “That’s not fresh. You’re supposed to use them immediately.”

  “Not my fault. I didn’t have a spell I could use them all with.” Bridget turned to Sera and Mysta. “Got any good news?”

  “My leap is going to war with my mother.” Sera hugged Bridget and Lana. “You guys OK?”

  “Spell mishap. Should be fine in a few minutes. So, finally taking down your mother, huh?” Pride showed in Bridget’s eyes.

  “No, not me. I won’t be in the fight, but I’ll be declaring open season for the title of leader.” Sera put an arm around Lana’s small shoulders. The pixie had gone to petite size so that she could flit around and blow away the smoke.

  “Here you are, ladies.” Carver came toward them bearing four coffees. “And Thorn has the beignets—today’s special. On the house of course. Oh, can my Uncle Jasper call on Bridget to ask about matchmaking witches?”

  Without thought, Sera went to them and kissed them on the lips one at a time. “Sure, any time. And thanks,” she whispered.

  Carver gave her shoulder a squeeze while Thorn took her hand and kissed the back of it. Heat filled both their gazes.

  “I wasn’t in the fire,” Sera reassured them.

  “Smoke. You weren’t in the smoke. There was no fire,” Bridget called out.

  “What she said.”

  “Still, we’ll be checking to make sure you’re OK and you can tell us what happened with your mother.” Carver handed out the coffees. “Gotta get back. Come back after closing. We’ll give you a thorough examination.” He winked.

  Thorn gave the bag of doughnuts to Mysta.

  “Hey! I could’ve handled the doughnuts.” Lana pouted but amusement lit up her face.

  “Not a chance, pixie.” Bridget took out a beignet, broke it in half, and shared it with Lana, who stuck her tongue out at Mysta.

  “Not my problem if you have to scrape her off the walls.” Mysta took the last treat with her and headed toward the library. “I’ll go research a better spell for hobgoblins.”

  “You just want to see your fox shifter!” Lana called after her.

  Bridget swatted Lana on the butt. “Stop it or you won’t get more.”

  Lana fell silent and Sera turned to her men. “I’ll see you later, maybe after a shower?”

  Both Carver and Thorn nodded and headed back to the café.

  “No use staying here.” Bridget sighed. “Go home and then go see your men. I’ll stick around here to make sure the cleaning elves get the smoke out of everything. I’ll have to call Joe and cancel our date.”

  “All clear, Bridget.” Matthias, the gargoyle fire fighter emerged from the office with his team behind him. “Next time, use fresher ingredients, unless you wanted fermented newt’s eyes.”

  “Thanks, Matti.” Lana flitted over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  The gargoyle blushed but didn’t wipe away the contact. “No problem. We’re out.”

  Sera said good-bye to her friends, got in her car, and left for home. When she entered the brownstone the light on her answering machine was blinking like mad. She had ten messages. She hit play and went about cleaning up the breakfast dishes that she hadn’t managed to put in the dishwasher. The first few messages were from leap members, asking whether it was true that a battle royale would be called. The last five were from her mother, begging her to reconsider.

  Anger simmered through Sera’s blood but so did sadness. There was nothing more she could do for her mother. The genie was out of the bottle and word had spread. She couldn’t take it back, even if Francine could come up with a good reason.

  After a quick shower she dressed in jeans, flats, and a sweater before heading back out to The Java Demon. She looked forward to seeing her men again and allowing them to distract her from the current problems. Her heart hammered all the way to the café. She didn’t bother to drive all the way there, not in her state of emotional turmoil. Her decision had been made. She feared for her mother, but letting the situation continue wouldn’t help matters within the leap, or for her and Vivi.

  “Sera! Hey, wait up.” Vivi’s voice chased after her as the gloaming set in.

  Sera turned toward her sister and waited for Vivi to catch up.

  The young shifter stopped and doubled over, her breath coming out in soft pants. “Gotta start cardio again. Jeesh.” She straightened up and brushed a hank of orange hair out of her eyes. “I heard about mom. Are you sure about this?”

  There was no anger or admonition. It was just a question.

  “Yes. The leap is dying out. We’re not making money. Well the leap, isn’t. Mother and her friends are. Things need to change.”

  “I get it. I’ve seen…things. Stuff that’s made me question what mother was doing. I never said anything. Didn’t want her to come after me.” Vivi ducked her head.

  Sera didn’t say anything. Everything she’d needed to know had been right in front of her, but she hadn’t dared acknowledge it. She wrapped her younger sister up in a hug and held on tight, pouring all her emotions and apologies into the gesture.

  “It’s OK, Sera. I’m just happy you’re in my life, and I stand by your decision. You won’t try to take over will you?” Vivi pulled back and stared at her.

  Sera shook her head and grinned. “No. I’m not interested and have no patience for the political bullshit.”

  Vivi chuckled. “I get it. Good luck. I have to go or I’ll be late for my shift at the library. Laters.” She moved around Sera and took off for the Literary District.

  Sera didn’t ask how the job was going or why her sister was bunking with Mysta, but that would come later. With a light step, she continued on to The Java Demon and found the café unlit, the screens pulled down. She smiled. Were they expecting something to happen? Her pussy tingled and her body warmed to the idea of a quickie.

  She pulled on the door. It opened on the first tug and she went into the murky room. “Hello?”

  “Shut the door and close your eyes. Do you remember your safe word, love?” Carver’s voice drifted from a darkened corner.

  She followed Carver’s directions. “Yes, I remember.”

  She felt Thorn’s presence to her left. He drifted behind her. There was a snick of the lock, followed by the soft glide of silk against skin. She felt the press of smoothness and the warmth of the blindfold against her eyelids. Her shoulders came down as the stress faded away. Her men would take care of her, make her forget what she’d put into motion. She exhaled and leaned back.

  Thorn’s touch drifted down over her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders and coasted along her arms until he held her hands. “Bring your hands behind your back.”

  Without thought, she did it. The same silk wrapped round her wrists. Thorn came around to her front and led her with a finger hooked into her neckline. They moved around the tables and stacked chairs.

  Carver’s hand caressed her cheek. She turned
into his touch with a sigh. Behind her Thorn moved her hair to the side and placed kisses along her nape. He undid the silk cuffs and slipped her jacket off her shoulders.

  “Lift your arms,” Carver murmured. His lips moved against her forehead.

  Again, Sera followed his orders.

  Thorn removed her top, leaving her only in her bra, jeans, and shoes. “Move your hands back to where they were.”

  She obeyed and Thorn retied her bonds while Carver opened the button of her fly and dragged her zipper down. Then he yanked her jeans to the ground. Sera toed off her shoes and allowed him to pull off her pants. The floor was icy cold against the soles of her feet.

  “What is your safe word, sweetheart?” Carver placed butterfly kisses all over her face.

  A word drifted through the fog of her mind. She licked her lips as Thorn slipped his hands around her front to squeeze and knead her breasts. Pleasure slithered through her veins as desire swirled around her body. Pressure began to build as she felt herself moving inexorably toward the edge.

  She sucked in air and tried to think. “Um…” she started. “Catnip?”

  Thorn tugged down her bra, exposing her nipples to the coolness of the room. Carver’s lips ghosted over her chest and into the valley of her cleavage. Then he began to circle one breast. Thorn worked the other, teasing and pinching her nipple. Everything was enhanced—the air that danced around her, the heat coming off of Carver, the chill emanating from Thorn, the pain and pleasure that shot straight to her clit, the need to come.

  Sera moved her arms back, making contact with Thorn’s groin. His erection tented the material of his slacks. Feeling naughty, she pressed her heel into the ridge. With light force she teased him. Her reward was the groan he made. She cupped his shaft through the khaki and gave it a squeeze.

  He grabbed her hand and moved it away. “Wicked kitten.”

  Carver released her turgid peak and slipped his hand between her thighs to tease her folds through the thin material. “Payback. Now stop.”

  She stilled. Carver worked his magic, finding her clit through the barrier of her panties and pressing down. She sucked in a breath.

  “Do you want to come?” Carver’s words were edged in a sinful richness that traced along her spine and wrapped around her body.

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  “Thorn.”

  Thorn hooked his thumbs into her panties and yanked them down, but didn’t remove them entirely. There was the rustle of clothing, followed by a thud, and then she heard the tearing of packets. More thumps and noises, and then she was nudged forward.

  “I’m going to pick you up. Thorn and I are here for you. Be with us; stay with us. Do you understand?”

  Sera let his words sink in. “You want me to focus on you two and nothing else?”

  “Yes.” Carver picked her up and Thorn supported her arms. She placed her hands over Thorn’s and gripped them. She was settled on her knees on a hard surface and she bent forward to place her hands on Carver’s chest. She felt lube poured onto her ass. Then Thorn parted the cheeks and began to work a finger into her back passage.

  “You are strong and beautiful.” Carver sat up. The muscles of his thighs moved as they slid to the end of the table. Thorn stopped them with a hand on the base of her back.

  “And you are sexy and powerful,” Thorn added, as he withdrew his fingers and pushed them back in.

  Carver repositioned her and then brought her down onto his shaft. She cried out as he drove in until he was balls deep. Carver lifted her up and lowered her back down. He repeated the process until tears streamed down her face and she couldn’t take it.

  “Please,” the word came from the very the center of her being.

  “Not yet.”

  Thorn continued his ministrations in her ass, driving her further and further off the deep end. She tried to push her hips back but Carver held her still.

  “We love you as you are, not for what you can give us.” Carver punctuated that statement with kisses across her collarbone. “Not for what you can do for us.”

  “We want you for your beautiful curves, as well as your imperfections, and all.” Thorn traced a finger along her spine.

  “I love how you savor your coffee.” Carver pressed his lips over her pulse point.

  “I love how you take your time to eat. You don’t rush a good meal.” Thorn nipped his way along her shoulders.

  Sera was at a loss for words. Tears soaked through the blindfold, but she didn’t ask to have it removed.

  “Your laugh is infectious.”

  “You give without thinking of yourself. You say please and thank you without expectation.”

  Their voices and words merged as they brought her back to the pinnacle of pleasure. Carver thrust upward and Thorn continued his prep of her ass.

  Everything stopped when Thorn withdrew his fingers.

  Carver’s hands glided up her sides to cup her ribs as Thorn gripped her hips. She felt his cockhead at the entrance of her anus. He pushed in and pulled away, repeating the action until he was seated inside of her from root to tip. When Thorn pulled out Carver drove up. Not once was she left without one of them inside of her.

  “We love every inch of you.” Carver latched onto one nipple, biting the tip as he sucked it into his mouth. One of Thorn’s hands curved around her hip to delve between her thighs and dip into her folds until he found her clit.

  “And we will always love you, no matter what you do,” Thorn whispered as he worked the sensitive bundle of nerves.

  There was no urgency. They took their time, nudging her toward the pinnacle. They didn’t let her come just yet. She begged, pleaded, and cried to no avail. At one point she even used her manacled hands to tease the base of Thorn’s cock as he drove into her. Still they wouldn’t give her relief.

  “You have us tied to you. We are tethered to you and only you.” Thorn placed openmouthed kisses along her shoulders. He scraped his teeth down the back of her neck. She shivered as sweat slipped down her body, adding to the sensations coursing through her.

  Time stopped again as they stilled. Her body hung in space, neither man inside of her.

  “Tell us you know.” Carver’s tone was deep and rich, like plush velvet. It slid over her skin and stoked the fires that burned in her body. “Do you know, Seraphena?”

  The use of her name was a command. A demand for an answer without hesitation or thought. She shivered, unable to resist. Without a thought, relaxed from all stress, without emotional boundaries keeping her in check, she answered with a single word. “Yes.”

  Carver and Thorn pushed inside of her in unison. They pushed her higher and higher until she was sent soaring, the orgasm crashing into her, pulling her under a riptide of pleasure. She couldn’t even get any words out. Any noise she could have made remained trapped in her throat. Her heart felt as if it would explode, and her lungs burned from lack of air. Her body ceased to function, caught in a moment when everything crystallized.

  Pain and desire merged into one shining, white-hot second. A roar filled her ears as awareness returned and her muscles spasmed. Tendons jumped and her body twitched. She had returned to the land of the living. She felt Carver come first, filling her with his fire. Then Thorn followed, adding cold to temper the heat.

  Aftershocks rocked her body as she came again. Woman and feline were sated. “I’m all yours,” she whispered.

  Darkness fell as she lay down on Carver’s chest.

  “No matter what, we’re in this together.” Carver and Thorn both said the words as Sera lost consciousness.

  From now on that’s how it would be, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

  Epilogue

  The circle of torches flickered in the darkened wood, painting shadows that danced in and out of the group. They stood waiting, watching, all their attention focused on the five people standing on a raised dais, close to the shimmering lake. Only the snap and crackle of fire could be heard.

 
Werewolves prowled the area, already in wolf form. Lion shifters lay on boulders, watching the action with lazy flicks of their tails. The occasional pixie flitted into the light, only to flutter away like butterflies under the full moon.

  Sera could feel elven magic drift along on the breeze. Behind her, Carver and Thorn stood in their full demon glory, a study in fire and ice and nightmare made real. Carver’s skin had a dark red flush; his crimson, bat-like wings were extended to their fullest, their cracked, blackened bones shimmering as if still roasting in the heart of a conflagration. His eyes were utterly black. None of the light that entered them was reflected back. His sharpened features looked chiseled out of granite.

  He flexed his fingers, fingernails grown knife-sharp. His tail brushed back and forth in a lazy pattern. Bare from the waist up, flame tattoos shimmered in the low light, as if drinking from the heat source. Sera felt as if she were standing next to a fireplace.

  To Carver’s left stood Thorn, an ice sculpture brought to life. His milk-pale skin glimmered as if encased in crushed diamonds. His wings were marble white. As they flexed, they gave off a cold wind that cooled Sera’s skin. The pale bones shone silver in the moonlight. His horns, like icicles, curved up into the air, slicing through the cool night, and his visage looked as if it were made of glaciers. There were patches of blue, gray, and white on his cheeks and brow. His normally red tresses had become the color of newly fallen snow, without even a trace of warmth.

  Thorn was also naked from the waist up. Both men wore leather pants, tight enough to show off their muscular thighs. They shifted from side to side but said nothing. They looked like gods staring down on the festivities with neither pleasure nor disinterest. They were just there.

  Bridget, Mysta, and Lana stood next to Thorn, dressed in various shades of black, their faces expressionless. Only their eyes showed curiosity.