Hell's Gates (Urban Fantasy)

by Celia Kyle

  I used her shower, taking a good long time to get clean and wash away some of the lingering pain. Even though I healed fast, the rest didn’t fade as soon as I stopped bleeding. The warm water soothed my muscles, and I took a long time scrubbing the dried blood out of my skin and what was left of my hair.

  Ugh. My hair. I stared into the mirror, holding up singed strands. It had burned off a bit lopsided, and that simply wasn’t gonna work. I dug under the counter and grabbed a pair of scissors out of the cabinet. I was pretty sure they weren’t for hair, but whatevs. I cleaned it up a bit, trimming the burned ends and evening it out as best I could. I’d never been this short before, but I had the pixie punk rock bitch vibe. I could work with that. Maybe do a scattered mix of purple and pink.

  By the time I was clean and dressed, it was nearly noon. I’d been up all night, been nearly killed, and I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. All I wanted was my own bed in my own house with my own house’s sounds surrounding me.

  But Momma R made me have lunch first. The second I was done, I pushed away from the table. “I care about you more than I could ever say, but I miss my own bed. I think it’s time to take Bry home and get some rest.”

  Rest with Bry right beside me in the bed, easily within reach. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d let him stray very far in the coming months. He may just move into my room permanently. The papas told me not giving Bry his own room would scar him for life.

  I was good with paying the kid’s therapy bills.

  Momma R smiled at me. “You’re welcome any time. You know that. And make sure you bring him back soon. He needs a good influence to teach him to talk without being such a potty mouth.”

  I snorted. Momma R was one to talk. That woman could whip out an F-bomb faster than a person could blink. Oh, Jezze and I weren’t allowed to bust out four letter words, but Momma R could do whatever she wanted.

  I hugged them both, squeezing Jezze even tighter and fighting back my tears. We’d fought and, even if we hadn’t really won, we’d survived. I grabbed Bry, propping him on my hip as if I’d been doing it all my life.

  Together, we headed outside, pausing on the front porch. Sam sat on the top step, feet resting a few steps below him, knees spread and his pose completely relaxed. He’d cleaned up and found a change of clothes somewhere. Though, considering he wasn’t completely fallen any longer, he probably whipped them up with his gel awesomeness. On High didn’t want their angels wandering around looking scruffy.

  Beyond that, though, even his skin looked lighter and less burdened. His shoulders weren’t so slumped and weighted down, his body giving off an aura of… contentment. It was as if the darkness had fled from his very pores, leaving behind a new Sam. Or the old one.

  I padded forward, grinning when Bry patted my cheeks and tugged on my shortened hair. I took one step down and then let gravity do the rest, falling back to sit next to my mate.

  I held Bryony on my lap and leaned against him, my head on his shoulder. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

  He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to the top. “And I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

  I pulled away, rolling my eyes and shooting him a glare.

  He looked me right in the eye, past my disbelief and anger, and the depth of his gaze made the old feelings—love—stir with a renewed vigor.

  “I nearly slipped more than once, Caith.” His deep murmur vibrated through me. “Your guidance kept me on the right path.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, sure. The Princess of Hell kept the angel off the dark path. Like they’ll buy that story.”

  He shrugged. “It’s true. We know that. That’s all that matters.”

  He put a hand on my knee, the warmth of his touch sinking past the fabric of my pants. It stirred another type of feeling within me, one I couldn’t act on while I had Bry.

  “You staying in town awhile?” I held my breath, hopeful about his response. I didn’t know what the hell our relationship was—mates but not, in love, but not.

  He nodded. “I was hoping to. If you want me here. Orlando is your town, after all.”

  As if I’d want him anywhere else. I mentally shook my head. I craved him like a drug—so not the right time for that pun—but I had no idea if he felt the same. So many things had changed yet so many stayed the same…

  “I could get used to having you around.” I smirked at him, winking—aching to have him with me all the time. “And I’m thinking of reopening the borders. I was throwing a temper tantrum when I banned the dems from Orlando.” Maybe more than a temper tantrum. I’d lashed out after losing Sam to Uncle Luc. “And…” I thought about my mother; what she’d done and how she was doing. “I guess maybe not all of them are completely bad.”

  I was pretty sure she’d survived the battle, but it had probably drained her so much that she wouldn’t be able to return to the tween for a while.

  Though, of course, it wouldn’t hurt her to call. I guess some things never changed.

  I also figured a lack of strength might explain why Uncle Luc hadn’t been around. Bringing yourself from Hell to the tween wasn’t an easy task and he’d probably been too busy countering Silaran’s moves in Hell. It was likely he simply couldn’t manifest in the tween for a while. Not until he recuperated from preventing the coup.

  Except something tickled at the back of my mind, telling me there was another explanation for his absence. Something I wasn’t going to like.

  I’d have to ask Killian when I got the chance though I doubted I’d get a straight answer out of him.

  “I was getting ready to head home and get some rest.” I bumped my shoulder against his. “You’re welcome to join me.”

  Forever.

  Sam grinned and squeezed my knee, his hand sliding a bit farther up my leg. “I’d like that.”

  The wicked glint I remembered was there in his sparkling blue eyes. I had the feeling we wouldn’t be getting much rest. And I… was okay with that.

  We headed back to my place and laid Bry down for his nap, leaving the connecting door between our rooms open so I could hear him. I’d bring him into bed after I was done getting reacquainted with my mate. It felt good to be home, in a familiar, comfortable place.

  Sam stood over Bry’s crib, this tall, dark gel hovering over such a defenseless child. It mirrored a scene from a year ago, when Sam had fallen. When he’d come to my home before disappearing from my life. When he’d gifted Bry with the last of his divine grace.

  Sam drew his finger along Bryony’s spine, tracing the delicate line of his back. When he completed the sign for On High, a soft glow trailed in his wake. A blessing. A blessing from my mate to my son.

  I would never admit to it, but tears formed in my eyes. I’d cried enough and I was done with that crap. The room was just dusty. I’d bitch at my housekeeper later. For now…

  For now, I held out my hand for Sam, shuddering when he placed his in mine. I led him into my room, leaving the door open enough so I could hear Bryony.

  But Sam and I? We didn’t speak. There was no need. We both knew what we wanted, what we needed. Sam wouldn’t be able to find satisfaction for himself no matter how much I craved his cum inside me. He was still on such shaky ground with On High, and finding satisfaction was another of those stupid rules angels had to follow to avoid falling.

  I felt bad for him, and more than a bit selfish, knowing that I’d be the only one getting any real pleasure out of what was to come. On the other hand… I needed a good, hard fucking. Bad.

  I pulled him around me and shoved him onto the bed, my mate lightly bouncing on the soft surface. I crawled atop him, straddling his hips, dominating my fierce mate. For now. I knew it wouldn’t last. My wolf wouldn’t let me keep control of our lovemaking. It wanted to submit too badly.

  He propped himself on his elbows, staring up at me, and I didn’t miss the pure lust and need that filled his features. Lust, need, and something more… Love
. On High how I loved this man, this gel.

  I grinned, fingers going to the top button of my borrowed shirt. I flicked the first button, slowly nudging the bit of plastic through the small hole. And then the next, revealing more of my chest. He licked his lips, unwavering gaze on my tits, anticipation in his eyes.

  Then the upper swells of my breasts. The valley between them followed by the lower curve. The pale skin of my stomach, and on until the shirt parted.

  “Caith,” he rasped my name, need and desire sliding across his face.

  I needed too.

  I reached for him, cupping one cheek while my other hand went to the back of his neck. I tugged him up, pulled his mouth to my chest in a silent plea. He was as hungry as me, his mouth devouring me with gentle lips and harder nips.

  I moaned and dropped my head back, taking pleasure in his touch. He rained kisses on my tits, nibbling the soft curves until he got to my hardened nipple. He blew a warm, moist breath across the firm tip and then circled the nub with his nubile tongue. I trembled with the hint of ecstasy that soft caress caused and arched my back further, pushing into his mouth.

  He moaned in response, suckling my nipple, nibbling it with his blunt teeth and then sucking harder once more. His large hands went to my hips, gripping me tightly, and he pressed himself hard against me. I felt him stiffen beneath my ass, his firm length nudging me, the fabric between us blunting his need.

  Fuck. My pussy clenched in response, my mate so close while I was still so empty.

  I knew what I wanted, what I needed more than air, but I had to take my time getting there. Too soon, and my poor Sam would be on the verge of erupting before I was fully satisfied.

  This was the selfish part of me. I was kinda okay with that. Definitely okay with that when he cupped my ass cheeks and encouraged me to rock against him while he moved his attentions to my other breast. I sifted my fingers through his hair, enjoying the silky feel.

  I trembled, arousal spiraling higher, and I pushed it back… along with Sam. I nudged him away from my chest and wiggled down his body, grinning at the pure desire I saw in his eyes. I flicked the button on his pants, capturing the zipper between my teeth and slowly lowering. I kept my gaze on his the entire time, watching every emotion that passed across his face.

  Need. Want. Desperation. Love?

  I pushed away the hope that threatened to overwhelm me. Right now, this was about us, our bodies, and what we could share.

  His cock sprang from its confines, tall and firm, a small droplet of pre-cum decorating the very tip. I licked my lips, eager to take him into my mouth and savor his taste. But I wasn’t willing to tease myself by taking him past my lips. I wouldn’t get to swallow his cum as he found his release.

  Instead, I gripped the waist of his leathers, tugging the material from his body and tossing the pants aside once they cleared his feet. That left his bottom half bare, but his chest remained hidden.

  “The shirt,” I growled, my wolf needing to see all of its mate. Needing to see everything.

  I got a sexy smirk, Sam rising enough so he could rip—literally—the thin fabric from his body. I stared at my mate, my one and only. I cataloged every rise and fall of muscle, every deeply carved line that showed his strength. The scars that’d covered him as a fallen were nothing more than memories now—On High didn’t like imperfect gels—with the exception of one mark.

  My mark. My demon-seared scar in his shoulder, my wolf’s fangs claiming him as our own.

  I wanted to taste him again, swallow his blood and revel in the flavors of him.

  Not yet.

  Instead, I shrugged off my top and then worked on my jeans, inching the tight fabric over my hips and to the ground, panties vanishing along with them.

  “Fuck, Caith,” the words sounded as if they were ripped from his chest.

  “That’s what we’re gonna do.” I grinned and licked my lips, eyes straying to his shoulder.

  Fuck and claim.

  I climbed back onto his lap, nothing separating us any longer. This wasn’t the furious fuck in Momma R’s kitchen. This was as close to lovemaking as we could get.

  I moaned when his hot cock rubbed my pussy and I leaned down, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. One he quickly took over. He thrust his tongue into my mouth, hand fisting my hair and angling my head as he desired. He plundered my mouth and I… let him. I let him have that control, melting against him in a boneless heap of need and want.

  He reached between us, his fingers rubbing my clit in small circles, taunting me and giving me pleasure as he teased. Round and round he tormented my pussy, my hips moving in time with his attentions as I sought more of the bliss. I was gonna come on his hand, screaming his name as I was hurtled over the edge into—

  The bastard stopped and I whined into his mouth instead of screaming, whimpering with the loss of his touch.

  But I shouldn’t have. Not when he grasped the base of his cock and then the tip was poised at my entrance, blunt head nudging my center. I shuddered, a jolt of ecstasy racing up my spine with that new caress.

  He pulled my head back, yanking his mouth from mine. “Want that?”

  I tugged against his grip, testing him, testing his worthiness as a strong male to match my inner bitch.

  He didn’t release me, just tightened his hold and tugged again. “Want me?”

  “Please.” I’d beg. The Princess of Hell would beg… for him.

  In one quick move he released my hair, gripped my hip, and thrust up into me. He stretched and filled my pussy, possessing me in that one movement of claiming. I echoed his deep moan, the pure sound of satisfaction, of desperation.

  I rolled my hips, grinding against him, his thickness spearing me with the most delicious pleasure.

  But Sam wasn’t having that. The mate of a wolf couldn’t let the alpha bitch take control for long. He gripped my hips, fingers digging into my rounded flesh, and set the pace he wanted.

  Fuck was it a good pace.

  He guided my motions, thrusting up into me, pushing me down to meet his every movement. I rode him, slow and hard, dragging my nails down his muscular chest. Not mine, my wolf’s. The animal wouldn’t be denied the pleasure of being present.

  He increased our rhythm, forcing me to take more of him. My pussy fluttered around him, sheath clenching and milking his thick length. I arched my back, waves of pleasure sliding through my blood, increasing with every shift of muscle and breath.

  “Sam…”

  “You need to come on my cock, Caith.”

  Fuck yeah, I did.

  I slipped a hand between my legs, fingers finding my clit, and Sam’s eyes blazed with pleasure. He loved watching me touch myself. I’d forgotten that.

  I rubbed the bundle of nerves in tiny circles, round and round, gathering the snippets of pleasure and hoarding them close. The pile of bliss grew with each thrust and retreat, his dick giving me more than a toy ever could. I rose higher, closer to the pinnacle, and still the joy of his touch continued. I’d come soon, scream his name to On High and dare the deity to stop us.

  “Caith,” he snarled. So like a wolf. And that was it.

  I came apart, shattering with the rush of orgasm, flinging myself off the edge of the cliff and flying through the air. My body trembled, muscles spasming with the release. My toes curled and I lost all control of myself. I fell forward, twitches and jerks randomly assaulting me.

  And Sam didn’t stop. He kept pistoning in and out of my wet pussy, the sound of our hips meeting warring with my whines. It was good and bad, too much and not enough. I was over sensitized by my release and I bit my lip to keep quiet.

  My mate slowed his hips, his dick still rock hard inside me, and I hated that he couldn’t sate himself with my body. Not unless he wanted to give up his divine grace once more. We’d have to find a way around that little issue one day. For now, I was grateful he was so selfless, so willing to give me what I needed even at the cost of his own frustration.

  A
t some point we stirred enough to drag on clothes, a long shirt for me and baggy shorts for Sam. Shorts I’m sure he “borrowed” from somewhere. When Bry whined, I brought him into my room, playing and just enjoying being with my two favorite men. We ate and laughed, had a normal lazy day like any other family in the world. We deserved the rest, the relaxation, and the rediscovery of joy.

  Tomorrow, I’d get back into a normal routine once more. Open the bar, pour drinks, and hopefully I wouldn’t have to deal with anything more difficult than rambunctious trolls and irritable goblins.

  At least, one could hope.

  26

  A few weeks later I was sitting in my kitchen, Wilting Bluebell bustling around and making snacks while shooting me disapproving frowns. The brownie didn’t like the mistress of the house eating in the kitchens. The mistress shouldn’t even know where the kitchens were located.

  Wilting Bluebell and I were the same age, she should know I wasn’t raised with a silver spoon in my mouth. My papas didn’t raise a spoiled brat in a looming castle or a sprawling estate. We had cottages and the wide open sky.

  Wilting Bluebell could get over it.

  She padded past me, giving me another one of her little glares. I picked up a piece of toast and took a big bite, crumbs littering the tabletop and a few falling to the ground. There that had to make her happy. At least I’d given her something to clean up. I swore, I did more to keep my brownies happy than anyone else in the tween.

  Pro: I got to be a slob and it thrilled the brownies to pieces.

  Con: The house I’d owned for what seemed like forever wasn’t really mine anymore. It’d been infiltrated and taken over by little rag-wielding brownies.

  Maybe that wasn’t a con.

  Killian Howe cleared his throat, pulling my attention from Wilting Bluebell and back to our meeting. He still had that disapproving frown thing going, too. He was in the Wilting Bluebell camp and had wrinkled his nose when I led him to the kitchen.