Rohan rolled away from me for a second to reach under the bed. My moaned complaint tempered when he held Snake Clitspin up.
“You put Snake back and didn’t tell me?”
“You anthropomorphized him?” He placed his hands on his hips, his words parroting my earlier ones. “Do I need to rethink this?”
“Try it and die.”
He flicked the switch on and pressed Snake into my hands. “Use it on yourself.”
I shivered at his words, his voice barely more than a rumble, and slid Snake inside me. “Oh,” I gasped.
Rohan put my hand on his cock. “Magic please.”
“Happy to oblige.” My entire body buzzed, from Snake lighting me up to the current humming through my fingers.
Rohan cupped my jaw, ravaging my mouth. He stroked Cuntessa as I plied my happy magic on him. Every atom in the room charged with a palpable build-up of explosive energy. We rode it fast and hard to the precipice and then Rohan pulled Snake away. He grabbed a condom from the drawer I directed him to, sheathed himself, and plunged into me.
I flashed him a dreamy smile, loving that first instance of him filling me so completely.
Rohan rocked into me with slow rolls of his hips, our kisses just as drugged out. He gripped my ass, an almost sharp bite of pain that tightened my nipples.
I lost myself in him and in the tornado of heat building inside me.
Rohan smiled down at me.
This is what it feels like to make love.
I tensed.
Rohan met my eyes and said, “No take-backs.” He caught my mouth once more. Not possessive. Not ruthless. Undoing me with gentle and sweet until my pulse roared in my ears and it was getting harder to remember that slow was a valid option. I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to set a faster tempo.
He stilled my hips.
“It’s too much,” I said. “I can’t contain it.”
“Then don’t. Look at me.”
I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes, but I was trapped. Hypnotized by the volcanic fire in his eyes, like Mowgli under the spell of Shere Khan.
He kissed me in a way that left no room for walls between us, and I came hard, seconds before he did. We didn’t move, Rohan still inside me. My hands flew to my cheeks; I’d never felt so naked.
“I like the way you smell. Coconut,” he said. “You remind me of summer.” He nuzzled my shoulder.
Stomach churning, I clenched the covers, waiting for the inevitable smirk at how he’d gotten me to lose control, and confused about the serene expression on his face. Not looking away, not running away required the most will power I’d ever summoned. I cleared my throat. “So, that was…?”
Rohan mimed shooting himself in the head, then grinned.
That so perfectly summed up my feelings, the knot of tension binding my ribcage unraveled.
He got out of bed to dispose of the condom.
I rolled onto my back. “I think I’m fuck drunk.”
“What’s that?” He slid back in next to me, curling me possessively into his side. I stuck to him, both of us covered in a faint sheen of sweat.
“Like punch drunk. Light-headed, lack of balance, loss of fine motor skills,” I said. Rohan lifted my arm to check and yes, it flopped back down like jelly. “But with orgasms,” I continued. “So, better. Hey. What would a breathalyzer for fuck drunk look like?”
“Weirdo.” He kissed the top of my head.
I’d missed Rohan this past month and not just because of the sex. I leaned in to kiss him again, certain I would never tire of that activity.
He pressed his hands against my shoulders to stop me. “Wait.”
“Wait?” I sat up.
“In or out?”
“Huh?”
“In or out? Of this relationship. Are we dropping the ‘not’ with the hot boyfriend?”
I smacked his arm. “I kissed you. Extrapolate.”
He caught my wrists, hauling me half on top of him. “Nope. That’s dangerous where you’re concerned. As are most things.”
I wriggled to get free, but his low rumble as I rocked against him changed my mind. Maybe one more wriggle. Some boob-brushing against his chest. “You want safe? Date a lifejacket.”
“In or out, Sparky?” he asked in a soft voice, his gold eyes boring into mine.
“I don’t like that nickname.”
“Tough.” He wrapped an arm around me.
“Liberty-taking fucker. I haven’t given you my answer yet.” I rocked against him once more, pleased to find him ready to go again.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned.
“You sweet talker.”
“Nava.” Had it just been desire etched across his features, I would have toyed with him some more but his jaw was tucked low and the corners of his eyes were pulled tight.
This actually mattered to him.
I let out a deep breath. “Totally in.”
That won me a slow grin.
I smiled back, light and warmth seeping into every part of me.
“Sparky?” he said.
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Yes, Snowflake?”
He brought his mouth close to my ear. “Can I kiss my girlfriend now?”
I grinned like an idiot, my toes curling under. Holy shit. I was Rohan Mitra’s girlfriend. Squeeeeee! “That can be arranged.”
And oh, baby, it was.
END OF BOOK THREE
Thank you for reading
Dear fabulous reader,
Well, my Wilde Ones, we’re in the thick of things with Nava, Rohan, and the gang, and the series only heats up more from here.
Thank you so much for all your emails and Facebook comments. I’m loving getting to know you and hearing your thoughts on these characters who are near and dear to my heart.
Now, I have a favor to ask. It’s your reviews that help other readers to find my books. You, the reader, help make or break a book. So please, especially if you want more Nava and Rohan, spread the word. Leave an honest review of The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Need on Amazon, Goodreads, your blog, etc.
xo
Deborah
Get a free download!
If you enjoyed this book, then how about a couple of free short stories set in this world? Demons and sexytimes, galore! There are mild spoilers in each one, so it’s best to enjoy them in the proper reading order. Click on either of the cover images to claim.
1) Slay: Rohan’s POV (Book 1.5)
2) Crush: Drio’s POV (Book 2.5)
Acknowledgments
Mallory Gibson, funny lady, I owe you for the “C Game” joke. The first time I heard it, I laughed out loud and I still do with each re-read. Thanks for letting me use it.
I cannot praise my editor Alex Yuschik enough. Alex, I am so grateful that you’ve been on this entire ride with me and I can’t wait to do the next three (thirty?) together!
Much love to my husband Loreto, who makes me laugh harder than anyone and still gets me giddy and dizzy for him after all these years.
Last, but never least, this one is for my Wilde Ones. You people keep me stocked in great reads, make delightfully snarky comments on a wealth of topics, and stoke my poor fragile writer’s ego with your love of this series. My words, my characters, my heart–I happily give them all to you.
About the Author
I’m Deborah (pronounced deb-O-rah) and I write sexy, funny, urban fantasy.
I decided at an early age to live life like it was a movie, as befitted a three-syllable girl. Mine features exotic locales, an eclectic soundtrack, and a glittering cast–except for those two guys left on the cutting room floor. Secret supernatural societies may be involved.
They say you should write what you know, which is why I shamelessly plagiarize my life to write about witty, smart women who kick-ass, stand toe-to-toe against infuriating alphas, and execute any bad decisions in indomitable style.
“It takes a bad girl to fight evil. Go Wilde.”
Check out Deborah’s titles.
@wildeauthor
DeborahWildeAuthor
www.deborahwilde.com
The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Collection: Books 1-3 (Nava Katz Box Set) Page 85
