bedeviled & beyond 05 - bedeviled & besmirched

by Sam Cheever

  They were gone.

  I sat up and looked around. All the degradation that had occurred over the last weeks since I’d lost my power had been healed. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I took it as a good sign. Maybe Dialle would have more time than I’d thought to find an appropriate queen to replace me.

  The double doors opened and Dialle strode in. He was dressed in tight, leather pants and one of his gauzy white shirts, his smooth, golden pecs showing in the deep vee of the shirt.

  He carried a tray laden with something that smelled wonderful. I wasn’t sure which I was more excited about...the food or the yummy male specimen delivering it. My stomach rumbled, weighting my interests slightly on the side of food.

  I sat up and stuffed pillows behind my back. “That smells incredible.”

  He placed the tray across my knees and leaned down to kiss me. I tilted my head and closed my eyes as his soft lips moved over mine. Placing my palm on his chest, I could feel his incredible heat pulsing against my chilled flesh. It warmed places much farther south than my hand.

  He lifted his head. “Eat. Regain your strength. You’re going to need it.” His smile was two parts sexy and one part mischievous. My heart did a little flip when I saw it.

  I picked up a crunchy strip of smoked meat and tasted it, closing my eyes in bliss. A few bites of buttery pastry later I took a breath and wiped my hands.

  “Gerch sends his regards.”

  I smiled, happy the big, red guy was all right.

  Dialle watched me eat. Normally I would find that disconcerting. But given the limited time we had left together I relished it. I reached over and touched his cheek with my hand. “You seem very chipper this morning.”

  He placed a kiss on my palm. “I have you back, safe. My court is healing. I am feeling chipper, my queen.”

  Remembering the hell I’d been putting him through for weeks, I felt suddenly shamed. Dialle definitely had his wicked side. He was, after all, a very powerful devil. But he’d treated me well for nearly the entire time we’d been together and I owed him more trust than I’d shown him.

  I plucked at a chunk of pastry and frowned. “About that queen thing...”

  Dialle grabbed the tray and set it aside.

  “We will discuss logistics later.”

  I shook my head. “I need to get this off my chest.”

  He pushed a strand of hair off my face. “I will give you two minutes.”

  I sighed. Where to start? “I no longer have my magic.”

  “One minute thirty seconds.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Your clock is fast, bud.”

  His grin had become more weighted to the mischievous side. “That isn’t all that’s fast. One minute two seconds.”

  I shook my head. “I’m no longer qualified to be your queen.”

  “How can one small woman be so wrong? Thirty seconds.”

  “Dialle!”

  “Time’s up.”

  He crawled up my body and covered my mouth with his own. I shoved ineffectually at his chest but it was no use. I’d like to say he was too strong and he overcame my feeble rebuke, but the truth is that I was just too weak to resist the taste of his lips and sweet breath. I wasn’t strong enough to resist the hard, insistent feel of his long body against mine.

  My fingers curled into his gauzy shirt and I found myself pulling him closer...moaning against his lips. Our clothes disappeared with a thought and any resistance I had disappeared with them. I slipped my hands over his pecs, tweaking the hard, brown buds of his nipples, and then down the firm ripples of his belly, toward the rigid shaft between his legs. My fingers enclosed his thick shaft, stroked it lovingly, and my thumb slipped across its tip to harvest the delicious drop of promise glistening there.

  Dialle groaned into my mouth and slipped a hand under my butt, lifting me and sliding me down the bed so that he could cover me with his body.

  It was a delicious feeling, being pressed into the soft mattress by his wonderful body. I was gently weighted, enveloped in heat and silk-sheathed hardness from chest to toe. Dialle’s scent enveloped me, cocooning us in a private world every bit as consuming as the Shadows, but ever so much more pleasant.

  I arched my belly into the hard ridge of flesh pressing against it and rolled my hips. Dialle’s tongue found the seam of my lips, flicked the sensitive flesh until I opened, then slipped inside.

  His taste infused my senses. My body blossomed, recognizing his touch, his taste, his smell in the most elemental ways. Every nerve ending in my skin expanded in response to his ministrations, creating an almost painful awareness of flesh against flesh. My taste buds opened to receive the sweet and spicy offerings of his skin and mouth. My muscles quivered to hold him more tightly. My nipples tightened painfully, rising for notice in the hopes that he would bathe them in moist heat. And my channel moistened, sending warm liquid streaming down my thighs.

  Dialle gently chewed my bottom lip, slipping downward to suck my nipples into his mouth. Tangling my fingers in his hair, I opened my legs wider and wrapped them around his waist, begging for relief.

  Dialle licked his way along the valley between my breasts and up my throat, stopping to bathe the spot where his daemon mark used to be.

  I stiffened at the memory of its loss, but Dialle’s hands slipped along the inside of my thigh and across the engorged bud of my clit, driving all thoughts of magic and daemon hickies right out of my mind. My head fell back and I shivered as Dialle’s talented fingers slid into my channel, driving exquisite sensations inside my body and along my aching clit, where his thumb stroked.

  I lost myself in the sensations. My head thrashing against the down-filled pillows, my limbs tightened and the spiral of lust building in my belly started to unwind, sending shards of bright pleasure shooting through my body.

  My toes curled hard against the soles of my feet and I cried out, feeling overwhelming release slamming through me. My muscles softened even as my sexual channel clenched and tightened around Dialle’s invading fingers, exuberantly embracing them.

  Wave after wave of pleasure swamped me, until I was limp from it...my body flushed and panting in the aftermath.

  Dialle covered me and drove his shaft into my body, burying it to his tight balls. My satiety exploded into awareness and need once again.

  He clasped my hands and lifted them above my head as he thrust into me, hard, deep and slow, rolling his hips with each thrust to maximize sensation.

  He sucked on my chin...nibbled.

  Pleasure spiked...swirled.

  My channel throbbed...clenched.

  Every thrust spun through me as a tsunami of delight, tightening my nipples and making my clit throb. I groaned out his name, cherishing the feel of his body inside mine, swelling, stroking the hungry flesh along my pulsing channel.

  He plunged deeper, harder, until the world exploded into bright colors.

  My skin expanded, sliding against his, my fingers twitched in the heavy silk of his hair, and my channel closed over his hard shaft, embracing it with untamed urgency.

  Dialle’s body tightened along with mine. He lowered his lips to my throat and sucked hard, sending spirals of new delight thrumming through me.

  I gasped under the sensation, wondering if some memory of his mark still remained beneath my skin, and cried out as I went over again, pulling him along for the ride.

  He sent his release deep inside my body, his shaft jumping eagerly as his lips sucked the taut column of my neck. When he lifted his head he said, “You are my queen, Astra.” His lips slipped gently along my jawline. “There will be no other. We are bonded.”

  “But the mark...”

  His heavy, softening shaft slipped from my body, leaving me with a sense of inexorable loss. A strong, square finger settled against my lips. “Shhh. We are bonded. One day we will replace the mark. I do not need it to know you are mine.”

  I shook my head, a single tear sliding from my eye. “You need a real queen, Dialle.”
/>
  He swept the tear from my cheek and followed with a gentle swipe of his tongue, licking the trail away. “Our fate is engaged, my love. We have no voice in the matter. You are mine and I am yours. The evidence is all around us. Look at my court. It is healing along with you. You are my queen and I am your king.” He placed a tender kiss on my lips.

  I took a deep, shuddering breath, afraid to hope.

  “If you attempt to leave me I will find you and bring you back.”

  I sniffled, determined to give it one more try. “You could mate with Darma. She has lots of power.”

  Despite my depression at the thought of losing him, the look on his face made me burst into laughter.

  “Surely you jest!”

  I dissolved into laughter, feeling the joy of laughing after so long bathed in pain. “I know she’s kind of cranky...”

  “Kind of cranky?” His voice boomed around the room and I clutched my stomach, helpless under my hilarity.

  He clasped my chin and looked me right in the eye, his lips twitching with the smile he wouldn’t let himself release. “Let us be perfectly clear on this Astra. I would rather mate with a gargoyle than your sister.”

  “But she’s pretty.” At that point I was just torturing him. Deep down I knew I would never be able to let him mate with anyone else. Especially my sister.

  His pretty, black gaze swirled with reds and oranges and the moist, heavy weight resting against my leg started to stir. “You are my queen, Astra. Only you. Not only because we are fated...or for the health of my Court...but because I’m a man. And a man needs to be with the woman he loves.”

  My breath stopped in my lungs. “You...you love—”

  “Yes, Astra.” His lips touched mine in a tender kiss. “Devil take me. You are the most difficult woman. But it is your devilish side I love best.”

  I licked my lips, savoring his taste. “Oh. Okay then. I’ll tell Darma she’s out of luck.”

  Dialle’s fingers skittered across my belly and my skin quivered hopefully. “Later. Right now I have further plans for your recovery.”

  I sucked in a breath as his fingers slipped past auburn curls and dipped between moist folds. “Plans?”

  “Yes. Physical therapy.” His mouth encompassed a rigid nipple and sucked, sending delight spearing through me.

  “Ah. I like this physical therapy.”

  “You will like it even more in a moment.”

  Dialle’s heated lips slipped down my belly, leaving a fiery trail in their wake, and I sighed, deciding to embrace my physical therapy.

  It wasn’t the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.

  The End

  I hope you enjoyed Bedeviled & Besmirched. But wait, you’re not done! Here’s a taste of Book 6 in the Bedeviled & Beyond series, Bedeviled & Befouled!

  CHAPTER ONE

  One Hell of an Offer

  When friends reach out and offer aid, beware the promised boon,

  The solution might seem ready-made, but leave you howling at the moon.

  “Don’t be such a baby, Astra.”

  “Shut up, Darma!”

  “You’re not even trying.”

  I couldn’t even respond to that absurdity. Trying was all I’d done in the weeks since I’d had my magic forcibly and painfully stripped away. What I hadn’t done was succeed.

  In even the smallest way.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, holding it to keep from spewing the worst kind of hate in the form of a response toward my evil spawn of a sister. I clenched my fists at my sides and turned my mind to the mantra I’d been using to avoid wrapping my fingers around her scrawny throat and squeezing.

  She’s trying to help...she’s trying to help...she’s trying to help...

  It didn’t work. I still wanted to thrash her to within an inch of her death. I might not have magic anymore, but I still had a certain amount of strength and a lot of rage to give it legs.

  I was standing in the middle of my office, dressed in the special armor that had become necessary since I’d lost the ability to protect myself from an army of enemies, and my head throbbed with the effort to draw magic into my core and hold it.

  My skin was slick with sweat, my hair stuck to my neck in lank, wet strands, and my breath heaved in my chest. We’d been working for over an hour and I’d yet to grab more than an ion of energy and hadn’t been able to hold it at all.

  The air shifted and my eyes shot open. A cold tube of water appeared in front of me. I sighed, letting go of as much of the frustration and anger as I could, and took the water. “Thanks.”

  Darma dropped into my visitor’s chair. “I think you’re getting stronger.”

  I nearly choked. If Darma was trying to make me feel better I was screwed. Completely and totally screwed. “It’s no use.”

  Her ten-second reserve of kindness spent, Darma’s pretty face darkened. “Don’t be stupid, Astra. Nobody ever said this would be easy. You’re being tested. Are you just going to sit back and fail because it’s hard?”

  I grabbed the drying spray from my desk and spritzed my face, neck, and arms with it. “Yeah. I think maybe I am.”

  She hit me with the mother of all dirty bombs. “You’ll lose Dialle.”

  Frunk me to the lowest circle of Hell. “You bitch.”

  Her perfect, pink lips tipped upward, knowing she’d pressed my “engage” button again. “I have to go. Slayer and I are going to take down that flashing demon at Twenty-First and Park. Keep practicing and you can fill me in on your progress later.”

  That would be flashing as in showing his secret parts to passersby. Not flashing like a neon sign. I was secretly glad I was too pitiful to take on that assignment.

  She started to shimmer and then caught herself, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

  “Go ahead, Darma, space-shift. I hate it that everybody walks on dragon egg shells around me.”

  My sister glared at me. “It’s called kindness.” And with those snotty words dancing on the air between us, my older sister glided toward the door like a royal princess and exited my office the old-fashioned way.

  I knew she would leave the magical way as soon as the door closed. It was like not keeping score at a child’s solar football game. Nobody who was involved was fooled. Even if a score wasn’t recorded, somebody was still the winner and some poor schlub was still the loser.

  I dropped into my chair and laid my head back, staring at the ceiling and fighting tears. As if it wasn’t bad enough to have lost my own powers, nobody around me would use theirs where I could see for fear I’d curl into the fetal position in a corner and drool on myself.

  It was beyond humiliating.

  The door opened and I guiltily swiped tears from my cheeks before turning to find one of my office mates standing there looking unsure about entering. Ralph Peters was one of the owners of Werever...Whatever, which specialized in shape-shifter justice. Like his partner Bob, Ralph was a werewolf. He had longish, curly black hair and the most amazing hazel eyes with long, thick lashes that most women would kill for. I rented my office space from them and considered them friends.

  “Hey, Ralph.”

  Since the loss of my magic, Ralph’s smile had dimmed to more of a soft grimace filled with pity. It was so painful to see that I’d learned to hate it when he smiled. “Hey, Astra.” He moved into my office and sat in my visitor’s chair, his sexy hazel eyes locked onto my face. “I want to make you an offer.”

  Whatever it was it appeared serious. “I’m listening.”

  The eyes staring into mine turned gold, lost some of their humanity. Under times of great emotion the weres tended to drift more toward their animal natures. Apparently finding that a more soothing state. “I know you’ve been trying to regain your magic...”

  I suddenly couldn’t hold his gaze any longer. I looked away. “Yeah. It’s been pretty ugly.”

  “I understand. Bob and I have...felt...your frustration.”

  Yeah, I’d just bet the
y had. “Sorry.”

  He shook his head, scowling slightly. “Not your fault. We have total empathy for you. I can’t even imagine what I’d go through in your situation.” His frown deepened. “Anyway. We’ve been talking and we think we might have a solution for you.”

  I tried really hard not to get excited. But given the frustrating morning I’d had, it was nearly impossible. I felt my eyes go wide. “Really? What did you come up with?”

  He nodded, took a deep breath, and seemed to be trying to talk himself into moving forward. That was my first clue that I wasn’t going to like his proposal.

  My next clue came in the form of his kick-off.

  “Magic is magic, right?”

  My gaze held his. “I guess.” My lack of conviction throbbed on the air between us.

  His stare intensified. “I can turn you.”

  I blinked, pretty sure he’d stopped in the middle of his sentence. I can turn you into a lean, mean, fighting machine. Or... I can turn you on if you want a distraction. I shook my head, lifting my hands in question.

  He frowned. “Into a werewolf.”

  My heart sped up as panic slipped through me. My fingers clutched the edge of my desk. My vision swirled. I realized I wasn’t panicking because I was afraid I’d refuse Ralph. I was panicking because I was terrified I wouldn’t. “I, um...”

  “I know this is a surprise. I don’t blame you for being shocked. It isn’t generally known that we can do this. In fact, usually we can’t. The magic I would give to you requires a certain type of vessel. A vessel that has the ability to contain strong magic.”

  I frowned. “And you think because I used to hold magic I would be able to retain it once you passed it to me?”

  “Yes.”

  I nodded. “Not that I’m thinking about doing this, mind you.” I lifted an eyebrow and he nodded. “But how exactly would you do it?”

  “It’s a fairly extensive process involving purification of your body and meditation. The physical training would be easy for you. You’re already trained in the fighting arts. But weres...think...differently. We see things differently. And you’d need to be acclimated to that before—”