Hope For More (Trinity Book 3)

by Devin Fontaine

  “Never mind my problems.” Thomas dismissed the awkward silence and pretended to sort through the file. “We must needs work.”

  Thankfully, the detectives let the issue drop—for now—and they hunkered down for what was like to be a long day, and mayhap night. It would take hours to sort through dozens of crime scenes, scores of witness interviews, to research connections between victims or locations or methods.

  It mattered not what he desired, because even though Thomas’s heart and soul desperately wanted to storm into Michael’s office and demand the Archangel make an exception for Hope so she could reconnect with her human brother, the city was in danger. They had a monster they must needs catch, one—or more—who devoured immortals, released Hellhounds, killed Lust’s employees, and kidnapped sorceresses and humans, as well as caused the death of his beloved soulmate. The djinn responsible, captured by the fallen angel—had refused to talk and ended up banished whilst Thomas was busy mourning his loss. It infuriated him that he hadn’t had the chance to stand in front of the disgusting bastard and demand answers.

  Not that Thomas planned on doing much speaking with the djinn. More than likely the interview would involve physical violence. Lots of it.

  Thomas pulled out a crime scene log. “Let’s start here.” Tony and Joan flicked through their copies of the file and did the same.

  As they dissected the bizarre rash of seemingly unconnected crimes, looking for any hint or the smallest fragment of data to form a correlation between them, in the back of Thomas’s mind, all he could think was, “Should Michael say no, what am I to tell Hope?”

  HOURS LATER, with strained eyes and an aching back, Thomas unlocked the door to his apartment, eager to collapse in his soulmate’s loving arms and sleep until halfway through the following day. He entered and dropped his bag by the door before toeing off his shoes.

  “Hope?”

  The apartment was dark and quiet, but he knew her to be there. Aye, indeed he heard the soft beat of her heart, but now that they were bonded, Thomas felt her presence. If he concentrated hard enough, he could even physically see the green and pink tether that connected their souls. He shuffled across the single room that served as both kitchen and living area to the only bedroom. Peeking in, Thomas’s breath caught at the sight.

  Fates, I love her so much.

  In the shadows, he could make out Hope’s sleeping form. She lay on her side, back facing the doorway, hair spread across the pillow like a silken fan. Too tired to bother with a shower, Thomas shucked his clothes and slid into bed behind her, fitting his body to hers, slotting together perfectly, as if they were made for one another, which he supposed since they were soulmates was true.

  Hope let out a contented sigh and wiggled her butt until they ended up pressed tight, skin to skin, not a gap between them from Thomas’s chest to his thighs. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled. The gentle scent of lavender and Hope filled his senses and, combined with the heat of her body, even as exhausted as he was, his cock began to fill.

  Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, willed his hormones to calm, and attempted to force his erection to wane, but the stubborn thing would have nothing of it. It cared not about convenience. It cared only that his soulmate was in his arms, both of them naked. Without giving thought as to what he was doing, Thomas rutted against her backside, shifting to slide his thickening length along the crease of her buttocks. Hope hummed and pushed back against him, adding more friction to his sensitive prick.

  “Fuck,” he whispered. He hadn’t wanted to wake her. Well, he did, but thought it rude to jump into bed in the middle of the night and grind demandingly against his lover.

  Hope didn’t seem to mind.

  She moaned and hooked one leg over his, spreading herself invitingly. Thomas wrapped an arm around her waist and reached up to pinch one of her nipples with his fingers.

  “God yes,” she said as the roll of her hips grew more pronounced until his cock was slipping back and forth over her already slick sex.

  Thomas continued to thrust, getting his cock coated in her arousal whilst working one sensitive nipple, then the other. When he licked a wet path up her throat, then bit the muscle that connected her neck to her shoulder, Hope cried out.

  “Now, Thomas. Please.”

  He angled his pelvis and drove up, causing the head of his cock to penetrate her sex.

  “Bloody hell, Hope.” He gritted his teeth and pushed up harder, this time burying his entire length in the tight, wet, heat of her sex. “So good, baby.”

  “More.” Hope swiveled her lower body and Thomas’s eyes nearly crossed it felt so good. He thrust in and out a few more times, but found the position too restrictive to get enough movement. Still buried balls deep, Thomas held onto Hope and rolled them both until he lay on his back and she sat astride him.

  Thomas reached up and brushed a lock of hair back from her face, then cradled her cheek in his hand. “Fates, you look like an angel.”

  She grinned and began to rock back and forth. “I am an angel, lover.”

  He laughed, but it morphed into a strangled choking noise when Hope started to ride him in earnest. They shouted and groaned and cried out as she rose and fell on his cock. He didn’t know where to look, his gaze constantly roaming from the debauched expression on her face, to the sway of her breasts, to the junction of her thighs where they connected and he could watch his cock disappear into her body over and over again.

  When his balls tightened and Thomas felt Hope’s sex quiver and her staccato breaths grew uneven, he clutched her hips and took over. Thomas held his soulmate firmly in place, planted his feet on the mattress, and jackhammered up into her, his pace relentless and unforgiving. She screamed and braced her palms on his chest, and when Hope’s climax hit, her nails sank into his pectorals, the bite of pain spurring on his own release.

  Thomas plunged his cock in and out of her a few more times then roared as his orgasm thundered through him. Whilst he spurt his release inside her, Hope rode out her own pleasure, keening and moaning until they both went still. He let go of her hips and flexed his stiff fingers. She’d have bruises where his fingertips dug into her. Mayhap he should have felt bad, but instead he felt… pleased that she would wear his mark.

  On top of him, Hope collapsed, her head fitting perfectly beneath Thomas’s chin. They stayed like that until his cock softened and slipped free of her body. When she tried to roll away, Thomas wrapped both arms around her back and held on tight.

  “Stay,” he said, wanting to fall asleep just like that, with his soulmate blanketing his body.

  “Always,” Hope murmured. A moment later, her breathing evened out and he knew she was asleep.

  Now. How to tell the love of his existence she would almost certainly never be allowed to see her brother again.

  Why couldn’t anything ever be easy?

  Thomas squeezed her tighter and kissed the top of Hope’s head. At least they had each other. Forever.

  Despite the long day, the horrific string of crimes, and the likelihood Michael would deny any request to allow Garrett in on their secret, Thomas fell asleep with a smile on his face.

  EPILOGUE

  Stultus sorceress, bitching all the time, endless complaining and demands upon his time, and she thinks she can walk away?

  Famine growled, a low menacing rumble that started deep in his emaciated chest to erupt from his throat. Mayhap he shouldn’t have backhanded Circe, but in his mind, she was begging for it. What did she think would happen? Did she believe he wasn’t intelligent enough to deduce her underhanded ways?

  For weeks, Famine enjoyed feeding upon immortals the sorceress retrieved, reeling in the rush of energy that came when he drained the life-force from his prey. Unfortunately, for reasons unknown, over time Famine required more and more frequent feedings to maintain the astonishing increase in power. It took a few days to deduce why he began to weaken, despite consuming more immortals than ever. When Famine sorted it out, the fur
y of betrayal nearly blinded him. The only reason the sorceress hadn’t ended up a mere stain upon the pavement was her quick thinking, dematerializing before he got in more than that single blow.

  The bitch had been bringing him weakened immortals. Either that, or she adjusted the spell he used to consume immortals so that when he fed, Famine couldn’t pull as much energy from their bodies. He knew Circe must needs be the cause for his flagging abilities.

  Centuries ago, whilst his brothers still walked the Earthly plane, the Horsemen went months, sometimes longer, without devouring a single soul. And even then, the soul always came from a human. In recent times, Famine needed more and more souls to maintain normal functions, downing an increasing number of human souls to keep from withering away and losing his precious talents. Without power, he couldn’t release his brothers from the Underworld, and that, eh would not tolerate.

  When Circe told him it was possible for him to consume the energy of immortals, Famine was ecstatic. His being had never felt better, the potent power of his meals crackling throughout his gaunt Earthly form. Increased darkness swirled within him, making him all but unstoppable. Then, as with the humans, Famine required more frequent feedings. It became a constant struggle to keep up with his body’s demands, lest he slide backward and end up powerless.

  Famine stared at the flickering light from the fireplace glowing in the window of a large log cabin on the other side of a clearing, and sneered. Circe was inside, but she surrounded the luxury home with powerful wards. He must needs attack soon, or he shan’t be strong enough to take her on. There was no room for failure. Without the sorceress, Famine couldn’t feed upon immortals. The pitiful humans he made do with since she left could hardly dent the hunger which raged within. His black husk of a core cried out, demanding he provide what it wanted. Yet no matter how many humans he gave it, it remained unsated, never content with that which he provided.

  Famine was starving, and the irony wasn’t lost upon him.

  He thought of the class three sorcerer he found and tortured into performing a locating spell to find Circe and cursed at his lack of foresight. He should have known there would be wards around her secret hideaway. In truth, it was likely a mere class three couldn’t undo a spell cast by a class eight, so it mattered not that he left the sorcerer behind, but with no practitioner, Famine would not get inside at all. He snarled and curled his bony fingers whilst his core contracted with hunger and wisps of power leaked from the swirling mass.

  Famine must needs hurry.

  He would find a practitioner to break the wards, then Circe would be sorry she ever sought him back out after he granted her freedom. Once he got his hands on the bitch, sorceress would wish for death. Then, broken and begging for mercy, he would force Circe to open the portal. Class eight not withstanding, Famine was done waiting. He didn’t care if the entire bloody Underworld unleashed upon the world to get what he desired. There wasn’t a daemon’s chance in the Hereafter he was getting his hands on a class nine, and he’d be damned if he didn’t finally free his brothers once and for all.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Devin J Fontaine is an emerging author of high fantasy romance. New to the publishing game, Devin is not new to writing and has penned many short stories and full length books that he hopes will never see the light of day.

  For more information

  www.devinfontaine.com

  devinjfontaineauthor@gmail.com

  ALSO BY DEVIN FONTAINE

  TRINITY SERIES

  Michael’s Honor- A Trinity Prequel

  Dante’s Inferno- Trinity Book 1

  Immortal Pride- Trinity Book 2

  Hope for More- Trinity Book 3