Demon Blood: A Demon Soul Prequel (The Caine Brothers)

by Christine Ashworth

  “I am yours to command. For now.”

  The answer caused her to tremble, there was so much dark passion in it. She took a breath and removed the sleep mask. Opening the bottle, she leaned forward, her breasts brushing his chest as she settled her hand on his face, finger and thumb gently bracketing one eye.

  “Here we go.” She pulled his eye open and squeezed the bottle. Let go, and he blinked hard, muttered curses under his breath. She repeated it with the other eye. Sitting back, she capped the bottle and put it aside before settling the sleep mask back over his eyes, and became aware of his hands on her hips, pressing her down against his erection. She raised her eyebrows even as she smiled and gripped his shoulders.

  “So putting drops in your eyes gets you hard?”

  “No,” he growled. “Having a sexy, witchy Fae pressing her breasts against me gets me hard. You have a problem with that?” He moved to pull the sleep mask off and she grabbed his hand.

  “Damn it, you need to keep that mask in place, or...” her voice trailed off when he brought her hand to his mouth. Kissed each of her fingers before pressing a kiss to the center of her palm.

  “Or what?” The words were said against her palm, and she shivered in response.

  “Wine after, then,” she said, and grabbed the hem of his scrubs shirt and pulled straight up. He helped her by leaning forward and raising his arms. She flung the shirt to one side and spread her hands across his chest, greedy for the feel of him.

  For the smell of him. She leaned forward, inhaled his scent before he caught her face in his hands and kissed her. Deeply. Thoroughly. Passionately.

  Made her forget her name.

  She held onto his broad shoulders as she returned his kisses, separating from him only when he lifted her shirt up, let out a hiss of pain as she raised her arms to allow him to take the shirt off her. Felt his gentle lips on her wounded shoulder as an apology.

  “It’s a good thing that demon is dead.” His tongue skimmed lightly over the deep purple bruise and she wondered how he knew where she hurt.

  Marie-Therese shivered. “You make it feel better.” She framed his face with her hands, wishing she could see his eyes, and kissed him. Excitement and fascination bubbled up in her, tempered with just a bit of fear.

  He put his hand between their mouths. “Hold still. Let me heal you.”

  Marie-Therese stiffened in shock. “You cannot.”

  He tilted his head. “Oh, but I can.”

  “But you can’t see.” Panic wormed its way through her and she moved back.

  “Stop.” Command rang in his voice and she froze. “I will not hurt you, Marie-Therese. You have my word. Do I have your consent to heal you? Unless you prefer being in pain.”

  Her heart pounded and she wrapped her arms around herself. “I…I guess you can try.”

  “You’re scared. Why?” His voice gentled. “Don’t look at my hands, look at my eyes.”

  “Your eyes are covered.”

  “Put your hands on my waist, woman, and look at me. Come on, my warrior. You can do this.”

  Marie-Therese unclenched her fists and settled her hands at his waist. Lifted her gaze to where the black satin sleep mask covered his eyes. “So.”

  “Okay. Now talk to me. Anything. Whatever you’re thinking about, just let it out. Keep your gaze fixed on my face.”

  The rumble of his voice, the warmth of his skin settled her. “I can talk about anything?”

  “Anything,” he said.

  She felt the ridge of his erection beneath her and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t want to be mated. Not yet, not for years. There is so much of the world I want to see, and much more to do more with my life than merely fight demons. I have a witch heritage that I have neglected, with my father’s blessing, in order to add to the ranks of fighters in my country.”

  She was aware of a gentle coolness stealing through her wounded shoulder, caught a glimpse of blue light out of the corner of her eye.

  “Keep going.” Gideon’s voice softened. “What would you do with the time, were you to have it? If you weren’t a Warrior Fae.”

  With effort, she refocused on her life-long dream. “I want to learn more about my heritage. Learn what the differences are between witches of the land, and the Fae. There are so many spells to learn. Think of all the ways I can use them to help people. Bring peace to the angry and courage to the weak. I would love to paint again. Take simple designs and infuse them with soothing magic. Maybe hang them in hospitals to calm those in need. I want to give, to help, to succor. I am good at spellcraft, but there is more for me to learn. Always.”

  Her face saddened and she licked her lips before continuing. “I love fighting demons, killing demons, but it is grueling and I’d like to believe I am worth more than my killing abilities. And when the time is right and the thrill is gone, I want to pursue other avenues. Being mated would ruin everything.”

  “You are a soul beyond price.” His hands smoothed up both her arms, over her shoulders, and down her back. He opened her bra and drew it off her.

  Her desire came flooding back as he nuzzled her breasts, teased her nipples to hard, aching points.

  “Gideon. Is this a part of healing?”

  “Sex can heal a lot of things. Your shoulder will be fine, babe.”

  She moaned and held him close when he bent his head to her and suckled. “You make me lose myself.”

  His mouth left her breast. “I’ve got you. You’re right here, and you are safe.”

  Capturing his lips, she kissed him with all the pent up longing for that other life she’d talked about. He was right, she felt safe with him.

  “Here? Or your bedroom?” He kissed her cheek. “We’re both still dressed, sort of.”

  “Here. And clothes can come off.” She lifted off him and stripped her pants and panties off as he did the same.

  The sight of him, naked on her couch, made her mouth water. Gideon was gorgeous. All lean muscle, his brown skin stood out against the pale gray of the couch, and his cock rose up to tap his belly.

  “I’ve been to the Faerie Plane. You would fit in there.” She climbed up on the couch and straddled him again. “You are brown and beautiful, as beautiful as any Fae male.”

  “It’s not easy being black. African American.” His lips twisted. “I can’t change the color of my skin. And you know the world we live in.”

  “Shh.” She put a finger over his lips. “This is not the time to talk about politics or race. I was paying you a compliment, letting you know how much I liked what I was seeing.”

  “I understand.” His hands slowly skimmed her skin. She shuddered as she realized he was taking her measure. “Your skin is so soft. Your soul is so bright. I haven’t met anyone like you before.”

  She leaned forward to kiss him. “Stop. Talking.”

  With a quick move, he put her beneath him. “Action it is.”

  Marie-Therese drifted into a sensual haze as he began touching, then kissing, every inch of her body. Every touch sent heat blazing through her veins. Whenever she tried to touch him back, he’d hold her off. The heat inside her grew, made her needy, and when he finally slipped his hand between her legs, stroked the wetness there, she let out a low moan. He circled her opening, then plunged his fingers into her.

  She cried out and tightened around him.

  Need had her lifting her hips against him, and his fingers settled into a rhythm between plunging in her and circling her clit while he kissed her soul-deep, leaving her head whirling with passion. He raised her knees to her chest, exposing her, and before she could beg, drove his cock into her waiting body.

  Relief exploded through her every cell, and her legs naturally wrapped around him, her hips tilting. She clung to him, waiting for his cock to seat all the way inside her. Waited for him to fill her world with orgasms and mental satisfaction.

  “I can’t see you. Are you okay?” His voice was ragged, as if he were holding onto his
control.

  Marie-Therese dragged his head down to her and kissed him with all the passion she had in her. “Never better.”

  Gideon clutched her hips and drove his cock into her, deliberately slow. “Next time, you’re the one wearing the blindfold.”

  At his words, her nipples drew up tight and her pussy grew even wetter. At his actions, she moaned. His every stroke rubbed that spot inside so long neglected. Tension built like a train picking up speed, and her heart raced, her body tightened and her back arched as she reached for a peak that eluded her.

  Tangling her fingers in his hair, she directed him to her nipple and he suckled her, hard. A scream ripped from her throat as she tipped up and over into orgasm. Colors danced behind her closed eyelids as her muscles milked his cock. Gideon continued to plunge in and out of her pussy, sending more shockwaves through her body, making her shudder and clamp down harder on him.

  Gideon’s back tensed, bowed. He thrust home, hard, and howled the release of his own climax.

  Marie-Therese held him to her, her body still reacting to his, and gave herself up to the luxury of several aftershocks. They held each other while the last thrum of pleasure echoed through them. Finally, bodies and minds spent, they moved to spoon, Gideon’s big body behind her. Neither moved for a long while.

  It had been far too long since she’d had sex, longer still since she’d had mind-blowing sex. She glowed, and sparks skipped across her skin, sending a sweet lethargy through her veins.

  Finally she cleared her throat. “Are you cold?”

  Gideon lifted his head. “After that? I don’t think I’ll ever be cold again.”

  She chuckled, relieved. “Still. Let’s move.” He released his clasp on her waist. She stood, took his hand. “We go this way. It’s clear to the bedroom, once you hit the hallway. The bedroom is straight ahead, with the bathroom to the left once you go through the door.”

  She put his hands to either side of the hall, so he could tell where the walls were. He returned his hands to her hips.

  “I’ll just follow you.”

  She led the way, amazed at how comfortable she was with him. Usually her bed partners were good for an hour or two, then she wanted her solitude again.

  But not with Gideon. She led him straight to the bed, pulled the covers down, and moved his hands from her hips to the mattress.

  When she got back from the bathroom, he was turned on his side, away from the middle of the bed, and sound asleep.

  Tenderness invaded her heart. She kicked it out and frowned. He was a man, a tribred mongrel who had gotten hurt while fighting with her. He deserved her care and nothing else. Sex could be considered a part of that care as he had mentioned. Plus, she enjoyed sex, and they were excellent together.

  She climbed into bed and curled herself around Gideon, resting on her hurt shoulder that didn’t seem to hurt quite as much now. She decided to check on it in the morning since she was already snuggled in. It was most likely the endorphins from great sex that prevented her from hurting as much as she should.

  Chapter 3

  Twice more, Marie-Therese put the drops in Gideon’s eyes, and both times he’d responded the way any male would when a female straddled them. The sex had been off-the-charts amazing for her.

  She had no idea what he’d thought of it, as he was asleep again. Plus, no need to inflate that ego of his. After their last romp, she had stumbled into the shower, stood under the cold water until it warmed. Awake now, she toweled off, enjoying the tiny aches and pains from the night.

  It was almost noon, and she’d had more sex in the past few hours than she’d had in the past year, and not for lack of opportunity. Hello, who could resist both French and Fae? No, the problem wasn’t finding willing partners.

  The problem was her human side, demanding a connection to her partner. The times when she’d tried to do the Fae thing, and have sex just to have sex, it had always gone wrong.

  Until last night with a tribred. Until Gideon Caine and his demon blood.

  She toweled her hair dry and stared at herself in the mirror, at the beard burn on her chest. He’d left a purple bite mark on her left breast. The mark was already fading, along with the swelling in her lips from his kisses.

  But there was no sign of her wound from the night before, other than a pale crescent on her shoulder from where the hoof had broken the skin. And even that tiny scar was fading, faster than it normally would.

  He had healed her.

  She stared at her wide-eyed reflection and took deep breaths. She was here to learn, then she had to go home. Teach the others. The blindness of the Council to the danger they were all in could only be overcome with knowledge. She’d come to get that knowledge.

  Gideon Caine was her one hope, and she really didn’t mind learning from him. Except he melted her panties.

  “Which is entirely beside the point, damn it.” She stepped into the tiny dressing area and pulled out a pair of panties and jeans from her suitcase, topped it with a bra and a dark green t-shirt. Taking one more look in the mirror, she resisted the urge to brush her curly hair out and instead, grabbed a band and wrapped her hair up in a ponytail.

  There. Not exactly sex on a stick.

  With a sigh, she turned and went back into the bedroom. He sat propped up against the headboard, sleep mask still on his face.

  “You’re awake.”

  “I am. I want to take the mask off.”

  “Just a moment.” She went to the wide window and twitched the curtains closed, dimming the light in the room. “Okay. Try it and let me know what you see.”

  He slid the mask off his face and opened his eyes and looked directly at her.

  Even from across the room, she could see the blue of them. She had forgotten, somehow, the intensity of his gaze.

  She reminded herself to breathe. “I take it you can see?”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Heat lit up her cheeks and she pressed her hands to her face. “Um. I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’m sure you have somewhere to be. Something must be on your schedule. Call me when you can pencil me in for some portal training.” Damn it, she needed some time to just figure out what the hell was happening to her.

  Gideon didn’t react the way she thought he would. He crossed his feet at the ankles, crossed his arms over his chest, and tilted his head. Smiled. And didn’t say a word.

  “Well? Time to get dressed and go.”

  His lips twitched. “Don’t I even get breakfast?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Almond croissant and espresso?”

  “Very French. That’ll work.” Gideon slid out of bed and walked toward her.

  Every muscle in her body tightened. But when he stopped in front of her and cupped her cheek in his hand, she softened a little. And melted a little more when he kissed her and smiled into her eyes.

  “Good morning, Marie-Therese. Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

  She smiled back, couldn’t help it. Returned his kiss for the pleasure of his lips on hers. “You’re welcome. Go on, take a shower. There’s a towel on the rack for you. I’ll bring the scrubs in from the living room. Your pants aren’t completely dry yet.”

  He disappeared into the bathroom and she gathered his clothes, laid them out on the bed. Frowned at them. That man and those scrubs had turned this rather cold, fully furnished rental unit into something like a home.

  It was disorienting. There was something about him. His healing ability, maybe? Or the fact that he was so fucking gorgeous? Or maybe it was the fact that his demon blood scared her a little. Did it matter? Did she really care?

  She shook the feeling off and headed to the kitchen. One of the things she’d honed in on was the posh espresso machine included in the rent. She turned it on and set a cup below the spout, made sure there were beans in the hopper, and pushed the button for a shot. She’d make him his when he showed up. As the machine whirred and ground and dripped, she placed the box of croissants on the
table and added two small plates.

  She was nervous, she realized. Which was ridiculous, but there it was. It wasn’t just that his mouth was so kissable though ooh la la, she did like his kisses. Nor was it that the sex had been so fantastic.

  When he finally came into the kitchen wearing only the scrubs bottoms, she was sitting at the table, espresso in front of her. She looked up, shook her head.

  “Do you ever wear a shirt?” She gestured to the machine behind him. “Just push the big button, and yours will be right out.”

  She kept her gaze on her hands as the machine whirred. Finally he sat in front of her.

  “Marie-Therese? Are you okay?”

  She pulled at her croissant before finally looking up at him. “I need to learn all I can, as fast as I can, so I can go back to Lyons.”

  “I thought you wanted me to go away. You said in the bedroom,” he began.

  “I know what I said.” Nervous, she stood and walked to the coffee maker and back. “I don’t know what to do with what I’m feeling for you. Okay? I thought maybe some time away from you would be smart. But maybe it’s better for you to just teach me what I need to know, and then I’ll go home.” She sat, twisted her fingers together and refused to meet his gaze.

  “Well then. I don’t want you to go back to Lyons. So why would I help you learn how to close a portal in order to facilitate your going home?”

  She frowned. “I’ve made myself perfectly clear. I don’t want a mate. Not even one as talented as you are in a fight and in the bedroom.” She met his gaze, surprised when he just nodded.

  “Then I guess I’ll be going. Can I take the croissant with me?” He stood. “Do you mind?”

  “Yes, I mind. Shit. Sit down. Don’t loom over me.” Irritated, she crossed her legs and bounced her foot.

  Gideon sat, waved his croissant. “Why don’t you tell me, exactly, what happened in Provence. We were interrupted last night, and then, well. We had better things to do.” He bit into his pastry and made a low sound of pleasure.

  Merde, but he’d try the patience of a saint. She stifled a sigh. “You heard about the Provence war? The authorities smoothed it over, but a handful of us were killing demons for weeks.” Her heartbeat sped up at the memory. “So many dead…”