His hands pushed down her shirt, revealed a breast. She wanted him to—and then he pulled it into his mouth and she let out a gasp. It was as if the man could read minds. Then his hands were dancing up the hem of her skirt, teasing the insides of her thighs.
Their closeness made Cora very aware of the place between her legs, the place that she so desperately wanted him. Wanted him to touch, wanted him to… she pushed the thought away, but it came back, stronger. She wanted him to fuck her. Bad.
Then he was there, his hands tracing quick, tight circles through her panties, each turn sending a bright hot shot of electricity up her spine. Her vision started to blur as light seeped into the cave. She could feel her muscles starting to tighten up. She could feel her legs trying to kick him away, the pleasure too much to bear and too sweet to do without.
"Come for me, Cora." His voice was husky, in her ear. She could feel a hardness pressed against her hip, one that she wanted desperately. One she wasn't sure she could do without.
Then she was there, in the place that she had wanted. It just continued to grow and grow, shooting her up into the sky, until all she could feel was his hand, making those delicious, sweet movements against her pussy. Her eyes fluttered shut and the world went black, no feeling or sensation but the pleasure that she was taking from him.
"Good girl," he purred in her ear.
Eight
Ash watched the heat going out of her eyes, until she was looking up at him, her eyes slowly widening and a blush spreading across her face. He at least had the decency and common sense to get her clothes proper, but that wasn't going to erase the memories.
"I—that—I'm not a—"
"Calm down, Miss Cora. I know you're not. Neither am I, for that matter." It didn't help his case that he was sporting a hard erection that he knew was showing against his jeans, but he was ignoring it as best he could. Ignoring the Devil's influence.
She put her head in her hands. "I'm ruined!"
"Nobody's going to know, less you tell 'em."
She pursed her lips, but she still looked overwhelmed by the judgment she was putting on herself. Like she'd lost control of herself and it was just the most natural thing in the world. But it wasn't.
Ash liked girls as much as anyone, he supposed. Maybe more than some. And Cora was a special case. Not many girls were as pretty, and the way she responded to his teasing—well, he shouldn't have teased her to begin with, but once he saw it there was no way that he was going to let it go.
But he didn't get hard at a passing breeze, and he certainly didn't try to justify taking a woman when he knew she was under the influence. But it had been about all he could do to stop himself from getting himself between those milky-white thighs and… he fought not to think about the image.
She needed her explanation, or she was going to blame herself for all of it. After all, she'd wanted it. He knew she had. But it counted for something that she wasn't herself when it had happened.
"There's a Devil 'round." Her eyes went wide. "Not that kind. This one's… small. Territorial. Most of the time, you ain't looking for trouble, and they'll leave you be, for the most part. The fact of the matter is, coming into someone's home might as well be looking for trouble, and this one seems to have decided that this place is his home."
"So…" She screwed up her face in confusion.
"So it was fussin' with your mind, making you—you know."
She didn't like that answer much.
"I figured you'd like this next part. So I waited up a minute for you."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Revenge," he said, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "You smell that?"
She took in a deep breath, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He could see it building in her already. But it would be a while yet, now that she'd had her release. She'd be fine, if he finished it in five minutes or so. She'd barely notice.
"Yes," she said. She was blushing again. Maybe she wouldn't be fine, but she'd be able to live with herself.
"We're looking for its source."
"Okay."
He pushed himself up from the floor where he'd been sitting and talking with her, helped her up. The sensation of touching her skin was a powerful one, the way that things were building up in him. He wasn't going to have a good time with this, no sir. He was already hurting. Even if he managed to keep control of himself, he wanted to take off his pants just because they were far, far too tight all of a sudden.
"It's stronger here," Cora offered. Ash came over. Smelled. The scent was overwhelming, and he could just catch a whiff of Cora on it. He needed to get this over with or get out of here, and he needed to do it now. This was far, far too much.
Ash dug into the dirt with the toe of his boot. It was pretty soft back here. Someone or something had buried this thing, and hadn't tamped the soil down after.
"What are you looking for?"
"Could be about anything," he said softly. "They can be all kinds of different things. There's… there's more to it, but there's too much to explain right now."
He found what he was looking for. White, in the sea of black dirt. He pulled it free, and the smell was stronger still. He could feel the arousal getting caught in his spine, now, like a shiver that wouldn't go.
He laid the blanket out flat in the dirt. A name was sewn into it. Agnes. Ash didn't have much question what the story was. The mother might have been on this mountain. Might have been down below, in the city. But sometimes, east or west, the baby didn't take.
Folks put so much thought, so much love into those children. The blanket was just part of that. A blanket for a baby, never came into the world. All the thoughts of new children put into a little blanket like that. No wonder.
He didn't turn to ask Cora what her thoughts were on the subject. If she had any, it wasn't his business. If she wanted to know, she could ask.
"Miss Little, you're going to want to plug your ears. This is gonna be loud."
She looked at the gun on his hip, the gun that he was now gently pulling out of its holster.
"Should we pray, or something?" She couldn't hear herself so she was shouting. He smiled at it.
He shook his head, that stupid grin still on his face. It wasn't the first time that he'd been this effected by a Devil, but it was the first time that he'd been damn near unable to think of anything else. He wanted to make a baby with her, and he wanted it now.
Ash knew right where the thoughts were coming from. And that was why he pointed the gun, put a finger in his ear, and pulled the trigger.
The smell was gone, now. Replaced by the acrid gunpowder smell. Still, Ashton could feel it. The drive to breed. He wasn't about to let himself be controlled by a damn Devil. Not on his life.
"That wind is making me nervous," he said again.
"You said two days."
"And I'll stand by it. But we best take care. Very good care."
She looked at him for a minute, perhaps wondering what he was thinking. She knew, though, exactly what he was thinking. She had been thinking the exact same thoughts only a few minutes ago, and even now they were teasing the edge of her mind.
The Devil outside wasn't a little baby blanket. It was something much more, and something much worse. He cleared the empty chamber, just to get anything else that was left out. Then he started pouring out another measure of powder. It was no time to have an unloaded chamber in his pistol.
Nine
Cora watched Ashton with a mix of feelings that she couldn't be sure were hers. Not after he'd told her that Devils were able to make you think things, feel things. But then, she thought, he had always been attractive. She just had been in control of herself.
Was the Devil putting thoughts in her head? Or was it taking away her desire not to do them? If that was all it did, then what did it mean for her? They didn't have much of a camp, really. It didn't take long to get everything cleared up.
He put up the bedrolls, fitted them into the saddlebags
. She watched him pull on the pitons he'd used the hammer the wooden charms into the cave wall. She couldn't help noticing the way that his body moved. Slow at times, fast at others. In control. She saw the muscles in his shoulder and his arm bunch up tight, and then the spike pulled free. He put it into his briefcase.
Then the other one. She liked watching him. Liked the way his body looked, liked the way that he looked. She wasn't ready to admit it yet, not to herself and certainly not to him, but she couldn't deny that she liked the other part, too. What he'd done for her.
The way that had felt—
She closed her eyes. She wasn't going to lose control of herself a second time. She was a respected woman in society. Daughter of a banker, sister of a banker, she wasn't the woman of some monster hunter. She was going to be married to someone important. That had been her entire life up to this point. Someone important who couldn't make her feel one tenth of the things she felt about Ashton Lowe.
He helped her up onto her horse and they started. Ashton was very clear—stay together. Don't get out of his sight for even a second, and they were in no hurry. Let the horses do what they wanted to do. If they were as close as she thought they were, then two days was more than enough time to search the mountainside.
She could almost feel where they were headed. Like a dull ache in her head. Halfway through a thicket of trees she saw the place. Not with her eyes, but with her head. Like something was showing her a picture, but she'd never been there.
"That way," she pointed. Ashton snorted out a laugh and she looked in the direction she was pointing. A rock face. Perfect. "Then up! We're close. A quarter mile, maybe."
Ashton nodded. "You're the boss."
She followed him until they found a way up the mountain. The way he was going, he didn't seem much less confident than Martin had. He had to stop every so often, to get his bearings, but it was like he knew the mountain.
But Arthur wouldn't have gone all the way out here to hire a guide, would he? And Ashton had said he was a Devil hunter—not a mountaineer. She wasn't going to pry about it. Whatever gave Ashton the ability to know the mountain the way he did, she should be thankful for it.
Finally he found a way up. The snow hadn't even thought about melting here. The horse below her was slowing down even further. If she could walk at all in the snow, she could have walked faster, and if she pointed her toes she could trace a line in it as they rode.
Still, ever faithful, her horse was going up nice and easy beside Ashton's. With him handling the reins everything was much easier. She just had to sit and watch the mountain. And what a mountain it was. What sights she could see.
Cora smiled to herself. This was practically her own private place. Up here, she could see a big part of the Utah countryside. She'd never been any place like it. Michigan, after all, didn't have any mountains. It was mostly flat, and where it wasn't flat it was hills.
The wind was still screaming through, shooting straight through her coat and making her wonder if there was any point in having worn it at all. More than that, though, the higher they got, the colder it got, until she could feel herself shaking and her fingers were turning purple from the cold.
"We're almost there," she assured Ashton. The cold didn't seem to be touching him. He was still completely in control of himself, something that Cora couldn't say. She was already beginning to doubt coming here. Was it worth all this unpleasantness? She let out a breath.
They were close. She would be able to get inside that lovely cabin she'd seen in her mind, and get a fire started. Then they would warm up by the fire—the memories from that morning flashed through her mind again, unbidden, and her face got hot from the blush.
She took a deep breath in. Nothing to worry about. She was going to keep control of herself. She had to, after all. She was the lookout. It was her responsibility to find the way to the cabin. She had insisted on coming up here. If she got distracted, then what did it say about the entire trip? That it was a waste? That she shouldn't have come?
She felt it stronger this time. They were close. A short cliff fell away into a path back down the mountain, and as it fell away more she saw it.
"There!"
It was right there, on the cliff. Nearly exactly where she had pointed, only fifty yards up. Overlooking the whole basin. She smiled, triumphant. That was it, without a doubt.
She didn't notice through the cold for a few more seconds.
The wind had stopped. Ashton, on the other hand, noticed immediately. Cora could see him looking around. His hand had barely moved, but it was already on his pistol. Ready to shoot at an instant's notice.
"Let's go, Mr. Lowe. Let's get inside."
He took her reins in hand again and started heading down the slope. It was a gentle grade. She took the opportunity to look at the cabin a bit closer.
There was, she saw, a little stable. They might be able to fit their two horses, but it was likely only built to hold one. The house itself was two stories, wooden. The snow blew up against one side nearly high enough to climb into the upstairs window, but against the other she could see green grass.
Opposite the cliff face was the front door, snow that might have been ankle deep blocking the door shut. No lights in the entire place. She let out a breath. Nothing like what she had seen in her vision.
In her mind it had been there, surrounded by green. Overlooking a verdant valley. Flowers were blooming. Nothing like this desolate-looking place. Nothing at all like it. She wanted to go home now. But that would have been a mistake. This close to finally getting answers… she wasn't about to leave now.
No matter how desolate the place her mother had sent that letter was.
Ten
Ashton let Cora off at the door, then took the horses by their leads and headed over to the stable. It wasn't sized for two, but if it was only a few hours they would be fine staying a little close-in together.
Grooming was never his specialty. He wasn't fond of it, and he never would be. but that didn't mean that he was going to be a child about it. After all, he knew what he was doing, it needed to be done, and Cora clearly didn't know the first thing about caring for a horse. He was worried she'd fall off if he let her alone long enough.
He blew into his hands and clapped them together a few times, trying to get blood flowing back in. The snow was too deep to be moved through comfortably, a long winter's snow still accrued up here. With the wind going like it was, he wasn't surprised.
It had stopped the minute that they'd seen the place. Down to the second, he thought. He didn't like that. Didn't like it one bit. Whatever was causing that Devil-sign was watching them. And the minute they went to the cabin, then it had gone quiet.
They'd been led here from the beginning. Who knew if the letter was really from Cora's mother in the first place. There was no proof of it. No way to prove it, really. Which just made it all that much more suspicious.
He wasn't going to rain on her parade, though. The girl wanted to find her mother, who was he to stop her?
He waded through the snow, already closing up where he had pushed through it on the way out, making the return trip only slightly easier. He pushed the door open easily. The wind kicked up a facefull of dust into his face. The place was dark, the windows not providing quite as much light as he would like.
Just as he was reaching to light a match, the fireplace roared to life. Cora was by it, her hands pulled free of her gloves to warm by the small fire.
Ash took a breath to stifle the jump of fear, took out his candlestick, and lit it by the little fire. There was exploring to be done, but first…
He reached back into his bag. He'd better put up wards. Whatever had been blowing that wind through had been plenty obvious, and it had obviously left. But the speed it left with told Ashton that coming back would be just as easy. And then things would be ugly.
He took a quick stock of the room. The primary way in would be the door. He walked back over, checked around the edge with his candl
e, and was surprised to find wards already in place.
That worried him more, still. The place looked abandoned. He could see the dust over everything, practically an inch thick. He could see a line of footsteps in the dust that led up the steps, where he lost sight of them. He would follow them soon enough. After he finished warding the place.
The biggest windows, then. There was one, large and plate-glass. Again, he was surprised. Warded. He nodded. Then it wasn't some idiot who bought one or two. This was someone who was hoping to live out here, alone. Hoped to live and stay safe.
Well, that was just as well.
He started checking the others. Warded. He followed the way upstairs. Where the line of footsteps went right, he went left. To the side with the built-up snow. A small window. Warded.
He frowned. Something very strange was going on. Nobody would abandon a place like this. Nobody hoping to live alone would build a place so big. Even if they needed a shop—and he hadn't seen a shop—they wouldn't need a place half this big. This was a house for a family. Three generations could have lived here, easy.
So why was the place so empty?
His route through the house, systematically going room-to-room, took him the same way as the footprints in the dust. Paintings still hung on the walls, too dusty to see. Furniture in pristine condition, too high up and too cold for bugs to start eating away at the slowly rotting fabric.
The master bedroom was big enough for two bedrooms. Large and luxurious, everything covered in velvet that was a little bit damp and a little bit moldy to the touch. The footsteps led right up to a small, round table beside the bed. Thick dust over it, same as everything in that house. If Cora were hoping to salvage the place, she would have a good deal of cleaning to do.
Sadistic Master Bundle (BDSM Billionaire Erotic Romance) Page 11
