by Mila Young
Her cries fill the woods. With one hand flat on the ground to hold us, I scoop the other under her back, lifting her off the ground as she protests my pause.
“Don’t want the ground to tear up your back,” I whisper. She loops her arms around my neck, holding on, her face in the curve of my neck. Hot breath flutters down my back as I plunge into her harder and harder.
The ride is wild, and I can’t feel anything but my gorgeous rabbit.
She moans beneath me, her body quivering with each rushed thrust, her soft breasts rubbing over my chest. There’s only so much a demon can take when fucking such a beautiful woman.
She shakes against me in an abrupt explosion of her climax, her scream like a howl on a full moon. I grasp onto her, rutting her when my own orgasm crashes through me, diving south and bursting out.
She holds onto me as I pulse inside her, my seed flooding her, and I’m rather proud of how much cum spills into her.
“That was incredible,” she breathes.
We’re tangled together, lost, and everything about her feels perfect.
She loosens her grip and slides from me, collapsing on the forest ground and staring up at me with a beautiful smile, the battle between us gone. My gaze dips to take in all her beauty, down to her delicious pink pussy, where the first threads of my seed drip from her gorgeous lips. The sight has my cock throbbing with a need to reclaim her, over and over.
Our passion beats on the wind around us, echoing the hungry sounds we’d made.
If I had my way, we wouldn’t be close to being finished. I picture myself throwing her over my shoulder and returning to my room where I can keep her all for myself. I almost laugh out loud at what Cain’s reaction would be.
“Elias,” she murmurs. “What are you thinking about?”
Her sweet voice slices through my thoughts, and I refocus on her. This is where I want to be. I pull at her torn shirt and press the fabric together to cover her chest, attempting to fasten the two buttons I hadn’t managed to tear off, while leaning down and kissing the corners of her mouth.
“Thinking about stealing you all for myself,” I whisper in her ear before I pull back.
She pushes herself to sit up as I draw her skirt down, drawing her knees together. “Is that even possible?”
Her question surprises me, and I slowly lust over the idea that she wants it as much as me. Except the real answer lies in her gaze. It’s curiosity that has her asking, not the prospect of following through on such an act.
I shake my head. “I doubt Cain and Dorian would allow that while, by contract, all three of us own you.” I kiss her bent knees, cursing myself for even bringing up such a notion. The moment carried me away to a delusional place where, for a sliver of a moment, I let myself believe I deserved any kind of happiness.
She pats her hair and readjusts her torn clothes to cover herself, and I take a seat next to her.
Before us stands a myriad of trees bursting with bottle green leaves, but amid them the lake in the distance glints through. Back in Hell, I never once desired to live on Earth. No one down there did. It’s an abominable location for demons, but after the extended time we’ve endured here, the place has started to grow on me. Where before I’d seen only land wasted with growing trees and waters too pure to drink, now… there’s a shred of beauty I recognize in the landscape. It took me a long time to reach this point, so I can only imagine the agony of being ripped out of here and thrown to the deplorable realm of Hell for an innocent.
We sit in silence for a long while, and there’s reassurance settling in my limbs that she hasn’t run from me yet.
“I always imagined demons as vile and ugly,” she says, taking me by surprise. She hugs her bent knees and looks over at me with a raised eyebrow. “You three have surprised me. Though the jury is still out on exactly how dark your souls really are.” She half chuckles, speaking before I get a chance. “You know what I think?”
“What’s that?”
“Whether you're a demon, a witch, a human… every one of us has evil and good in us.”
I study her for a moment. “If you met some of the monsters down in the darkest pits of Hell, you might change your mind on that.”
She shrugs and glances out toward the lake. “Maybe I’m being way too introspective. I blame the amazing sex.”
I laugh and blow on my curled fingers before rubbing them down my bare chest in a faux polish attempt. “I have that effect on women.”
She rolls her eyes and nudges me. “Don’t get a huge head. You still cheated at your game, remember?”
“I need to teach you how to correctly make deals with a demon.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” She pauses, her brow pinching like it does every time she’s thinking something. “So, with demons existing, there are angels up in Heaven, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do they ever come down to Earth?”
“Those arrogant pricks? The whole time I’ve been in your world, I have yet to hear one person talk about seeing an angel.”
“But it’s possible, right?” she insists.
“I guess. But doesn’t mean they do. The queen of England could visit the north pole if she wished, but she never does.”
She cuts me a sarcastic look, then pushes herself to stand. One hand is outstretched toward me, palm facing upward, and with her other hand she clutches the torn fabric across her chest. Her entire body trembles from the cold.
“Let’s go get cleaned up. And you need clothes.” I accept her offer and get up, then in a flash, I sweep her off her feet, an arm under her knees, the other at her back.
She releases a small, startled cry, her eyes wide with shock.
“Let me do the honors, seeing as your shoes are all soggy and you’ve lost your panties.”
She punches me in the arm. “You tore them off! And though it might be hard to believe, I can walk without wearing underwear.”
“Not if I’m near.” I meet her gaze, and that earlier electricity sparks up between us once more.
Her face scrunches up, but it’s all fake. I see it behind her eyes, smell the arousal in her scent. She wants me badly, and I tuck that little memory nugget away to hold onto as a beacon. Something to grasp onto when my mind refuses to forget the past and my world turns so dark, I can’t see what’s in front of me.
DORIAN
I do a double-take at the folded piece of paper on the small desk in my bedroom and pause in the doorway. I’d spent most of the day driving through town, talking to anyone I knew at Storm’s markets, and even cruised in my car through the woods surrounding Glenside. Anything to find out where that fucking bastard, Sir Surchion, went. Not a single clue. The warehouse is burned down, and his hiding spot in the mountain is abandoned.
It’s like the dragon just vanished, which would not surprise me. Except he took three of our relics, and I’m not taking that lying down. When I catch him, I’ll rip his spine out with my bare hands.
Still, I stare back at the note. Who the hell has been in my room?
I grab the paper and unfold it. Instantly, I inhale the faint waft of sulfur and growl under my breath.
Of fucking course.
Fire burns through my veins as I stare at the few words written across it.
Who is Aria Cross?
Maverick. Demon of Greed. Of course it’s him. Of course he’s found out about her. Of course he’s poking his nose where it doesn’t belong.
A tornado of fury and dread twists within me, and I scrunch up the paper and toss it to the ground, seething that the prick has been watching us. But how the fuck does he know her full name when we only just discovered it ourselves?
I pace the room in long strides, going from my window to the fireplace and back. A nerve pulses in my temple that Maverick is paying her attention. His actions all stem from a cesspool of deceit, from Lucifer.
A finger traces the length of my spine at the thought, a shiver gripping me. Not much scares me, but the devil is
a fucking unpredictable psychopath. And if his sights are set on our Aria, we are in deeper shit than we ever suspected.
I jerk my head to the ball of scrunched up paper and grind my back teeth. Maverick’s damn words burn through my mind.
Who is Aria Cross?
Fisting my hands, my knuckles turn white, and I swing around, my fist cracking against the wall. Pain punches back up my arm, but I don’t give a shit.
Whatever Maverick is up to puts Aria in the line of danger. No matter how much he sugar-coats his unprompted visits to me, a wolf in sheep’s clothing is still a wolf.
I march across the room, snatch the note from the floor, and storm out into the corridor. By the time I reach Cain’s office, I’m trembling with rage. The scrunched-up paper feels heavy in my hand, like a burden growing heavier by the second.
Without knocking, I charge in, gaining myself a glare from Cain, who’s sitting at his desk. He lowers the folder from his hand to the table.
I dump the note on the table in front of me. “We’re in big shit.”
Cain’s eyes narrow at the ball of paper and then move back up to me. “If you’re coming in here to dump your garbage, it goes in the fire.”
“Just read the fucking note,” I snarl, but impatience itches along my spine, so I flatten it out for him, slapping my hand down on the table. “Read.”
Picking it up, he stares at it for longer than it needs to be read. It’s four words that have put my mind into a tailspin.
“Did you read it?” I push.
“Who’s it from?”
“You’ve already forgotten your brother’s handwriting? It’s Maverick. That asshole has turned his attention on Aria.”
The paper trembles in Cain’s hand, and he holds it so tight, his fingers tear through the page. He dumps the note on the desk and gets to his feet, his lips thinning, the corded muscles in his neck pulsing.
“She can’t find out about this. I don’t want to scare her, but we need to uncover what my brother wants from her.” He meets my eyes. “If Maverick is following orders, it seems my father thinks you might be the weak link to get to me.”
Weak link? I glare at Cain but bite my tongue. This has more to do with there being only two of us working with Cain, and everyone knows Elias is an unpredictable fuck. So who else are they going to try to go through to get intelligence? Not that I’d give anything away, but I know how to play the game.
“Hate to break it to you, but I get a feeling this note has nothing to do with you,” I say with a chirpy cadence, which gains me a wry frown.
“Don’t be too quick to dismiss their intentions.” Cain huffs. “We need to keep a tighter watch over Aria. My decision to have her join me on my trip is sounding like a better idea by the second.”
I stare at Cain as he marches out of his office before I can remind him it was me who suggested he take Aria with him.
Half the time, I struggle to remember how I ended up expelled to Earth with him. But what surprises me more is that we haven’t killed each other yet.
Chapter Thirteen
Cain
The Town Car stops in the middle of the private airstrip in front of the jet, and the driver gets out to open Aria’s door. I don’t wait for him to come around to my side. I climb out myself, needing the icy morning air to fill my lungs and clear my head. The entire journey here, Aria refused to talk to me. Refused to so much as glance my way, even when I tried plying her with questions. At first, her rejection annoyed and angered me, but soon, that turned to uneasiness.
I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but after she ripped off the winged necklace I gave her, threw it at my feet, and told me to fuck off with glossy eyes, I couldn’t help the hurt I felt and still feel now. In that moment, I realized I’ve become soft for her. We’ve always liked to play this back and forth game, but I’ve taken it a step too far this time and I don’t know if she’ll forgive me for using her this way.
Dorian would tell me I need to let go and open up more, and maybe I do. The time Aria and I spent together in my office had been the most unchained I’d felt in a long time. I shouldn’t be pushing her away by forcing her to go to Missouri with me. But what other choice do I have? We need her to find the relics. If she isn’t going to go willingly…
I glance over the top of the car to where she stands on the other side, arms wrapped around herself in a long wool coat. Even shivering and wanting my death, she’s still the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Maybe I can find a way to salvage whatever is between us. I have an idea in mind, but I’m not sure how she’ll take it. I’ll just have to wait and see.
Her gaze flicks my way before she strides across the blacktop to the plane. I follow far enough behind to give her space, but not enough for her to try making a run for it. Of course, I hope she’s learned by now that trying to escape is a wasted effort, but one can never be too cautious.
After climbing the steps, we enter the plane’s cabin. It’s a thing of luxury with white leather seats, plush carpets, and dark wood accents. I’ve travelled this way numerous times, but Aria’s gasp is loud, her amazement and excitement infectious. I smile as she takes in the spoils having that having money grants us, spinning in circles and running her fingers over the interior in awe.
“Do you like it?” The question slips from me without thought.
Silence answers, and really, I don’t expect her to respond after the stiffly quiet car ride here. Why should I? She’s obviously perfected the art of giving the silent treatment.
Instead, I sigh and take one of the oversized chairs by the window. My temples throb with a budding headache. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this trip with her—let alone get her to help me find the spine—if she won’t even look at me for more than two seconds.
The cabin door closes with a loud whooshing sound and seals shut, and Aria looks around, suddenly paler than before. Moving slowly, she reaches for a chair on the opposite side of the plane and sits down. Her trembling hands don’t go unnoticed.
She’s afraid. Deathly afraid, I realize. Her throat works to swallow over and over, and she presses her head into the cushions with her eyes squeezed shut.
The engine rumbles to life, shaking the floor under our feet, and she grips the armrests so tight, she might puncture the leather. We haven’t even taken off yet, but she looks like she’s about to pass out any moment from lack of oxygen. Or worse, vomit.
“Are you okay?” I whisper her way, even though I already know the answer.
“Never flown before,” she manages to squeeze past her clamped lips.
I should have known better. Aria lived in poverty and foster care all of her life. She wouldn’t have boarded a plane before. Possibly never seen one, besides ones that flew overhead. This is an entirely new experience for her.
The plane starts to glide backward, and her entire body stiffens.
“Is-Is it happening now?” she squeaks in panic. “Are we taking off?”
A short laugh escapes. “No. The pilot is only getting us ready to depart. We’re taxiing onto the runway.”
“It’s not funny,” she snaps back. She’s still too scared to open her eyes.
As amusing as this may be, I do feel a bit bad for her. Even though I’m no stranger to flying, it took me some time to trust these metal wings over my own demon ones. I can understand where the fear comes from.
I stand up, walk over to her side, and take the seat directly across from her. She peeks one eye open to see me now facing her and grimaces. “I prefer to suffer alone, thank you very much.”
Leaning over, I grasp her arms and yank her out of her seat. Being in a private jet, the stewardesses will overlook the lack of seatbelts. She half-cries out before landing, knees spread, in my lap. Her eyes snap fully open, and she stares at me for a long moment, mouth agape.
I glance down to see that under her heavy coat, she’s wearing another low-cut shirt and skirt ensemble, similar to the tempting little number I’d found he
r in yesterday on the staircase. Only this time, she knows work is off the table, so is her outfit choice simply to test me?
Because it sure is working.
To make things even more tantalizing, her breasts are just inches from my face, begging me to bury my face in between them. Taste them. My mind conjures the most delicious images of us sitting like this, naked, her bouncing up and down on my cock as she rides us both into the mile-high club. My grip on her arms strengthens as my thoughts run away with me.
Her gaze narrows, but under the facade, I can see her own deep-seated arousal. I’m sure her thoughts have followed mine.
“What are you doing?” she asks. Even her tone, low and breathy, is tinged with desire. The sound of it sends electric pulses straight to my groin.
I don’t answer, because in all honesty, I really don’t know what I’m doing. My intention had been to try and comfort her, but things quickly took a left turn. Whenever I’m close to her, all my common sense seems to fly out the fucking window.
“Cain,” she says a bit more forcefully, but right then, the engine roars and the entire plane shakes. She yelps and wraps her body around mine—arms around my head, chest pressed against me, face buried in my neck. Every muscle in me tenses at her closeness, and for a moment, I’m unsure what to do.
Hesitantly, I slide my hands up her back and press her closer as she trembles. I can’t help but think how perfectly she seems to fit like this in my arms, how good she feels. I inhale the sweet scent of her as she clutches me, my head whirling with her and only her—my Aria. And when the plane lifts into the air, she squeezes me deathly tight as if she’s clinging on for dear life.
“It’s alright,” I mutter gently near her ear. “I have you.”
The smallest whimper is her only reply.
We hold each other like that as the jet ascends higher and higher. Soon her shaking stops, but she doesn’t move from my embrace. Nor does she say a word. Time passes, and the ding, ding of the pilot’s radio sounds from the speakers.
