Dead End Diner: Book one

by Bea Biddle

  “You like tables?" Karen muttered, walking him backward. "I like chairs." With that, she pushed him down to sit a chair in the middle of the diner. She straddled him immediately, impaling herself on his member slowly. She moaned as he filled her, whimpered as he stretched her.

  Cef shivered as she put her full weight on him, holding her tightly around her waist, so close to him he could feel every fast drum of her heart that echoed his own. “Fuck, Karen,” he whispered against her neck with a deep groan, tasting her skin. “Why do you feel so damn good?”

  She didn't answer. She couldn't. She bit her lip, rolled her hips experimentally and hissed as his girth sent a shockwave through her. He swallowed, trembled, let her adjust, let her set the pace. And for that, she lost another little piece of her heart to him. She kissed him, deeply, fiercely, rolling her hips again, earning a throaty grunt from him that rumbled through her.

  Moaning his name, she let her head roll back. She felt him, every inch of him, embedded in her, buried so deep and so beautifully. And her body responded to him remarkably, molded itself to him, she had begun riding him before she even knew what was happening. “Shit, Cef,” she whispered, moaning loudly, reveling in the response she drew from him as she heard him groan beneath her.

  She started slow. Her hips moved in tune with every harsh breath. His hands roamed, stroking and caressing their way to her chest, claiming her breasts. She hissed, grabbing hold of his hair as his lips and tongue worked her nipples into submission. His large hands made their way to her hips, stroking their way to her thighs, holding them securely on either side of him. “You will be the death of me,” he rumbled out in a long groan with his face pressed against her chest as he nibbled and tasted her. “You feel too good.”

  Karen laughed and increased her pace, earning another long groan. His teeth scraped along her collarbone, nipped her flesh and she wanted more. More of him. With her hands on his chest, her fingers playing through the coarse chest hair, feeling the wide planes of muscle that bunched under her fingertips, she felt him pulsate inside of her. Every inch, so thick and hard it made her whimper and whine in delight. His warm hands kneaded her ass, guiding her movements and she cried out at the pleasure of a faster pace.

  She lost control. She couldn't get enough, couldn't ride him fast enough, hard enough. Every roll of her hips brought a surge of raw pleasure, every movement a jolt of electricity running through her. He was magnificent. And he was hers. She whimpered and moaned in complete bliss, her hands on his shoulders, steadying her, running over his powerful chest, his thick throat. All of him, hers. Cradling his face in her hands, enjoying the feel of his rough beard, she rested her forehead against his as she increased the pace again, as fast as she could, as hard as she could. The chair scraped along the floor, screeching on the vinyl, the wind hammered on the windows, snow mercilessly pelted the grimy glass. But they could hear nothing but their shared breaths, elated moans, and cries of desire.

  Cef tightened his grip on her, his large hands slid up and down her back. Unable to stop himself he thrust upwards, needed to fill her completely. Needed to claim and claim again, needing her to know she was his and his alone. She responded with a sharp cry as she bounced on his lap, her words of encouragement and surrender, echoed on the walls, came back to him. She arched her back, her fingertips digging into his shoulders for balance. Her head rolled back again, her eyes fluttered as she cried out, meeting his brutal thrusts with the roll of her hips.

  She looked wild, his woman, his warrior, conquering and claiming him. Her black hair in disarray around her head, her moans, her battle cries as she dominated him completely, claimed him as he had claimed her. The sight was making him lose his mind. His woman, his. He could not hold on much longer, his release was pressing on. His body was ready, she had driven him ready. With a desperate groan, he grasped her under the knees, lifting her legs wider. There was no surprise from her that she could no longer reach the floor, that her feet in the air on either side of him.

  “Yes!" she screamed at the ceiling. "Yes! Cef, please." There wasn't a single coherent thought running through her head at that moment. She was flying in the air, intense pleasure coursing through her body, threatening to rip her apart. "Yes! I- I- Cef!"

  He grunted and huffed, moaning for her, thrusting madly, furiously. He could feel her reaching for it, feel her shuddering above him, her body quivering in anticipation for it. She was so familiar, as if this had always been and would always be. Her walls tightened around him. It nearly broke him. He would spill before her, he was almost sure of it.

  But then she cried out. Breaking apart above him in the most delicious of ways. He mumbled her name again and again as he thrust harder and harder, watching her bounce and keen and howl in ecstasy. Perspiration glinted on her chest, her nails dug into his skin, her hair whipped around her head. And he could not hold back any longer if his life depended on it. With a final roar of her name, he exploded. Tumbling over the edge, following her into the black abyss.

  With a strangled moan, a tired, drawn-out sigh, she collapsed against his chest, barely noticing that her legs were slowly lowered. All she cared about was Cef's arms wrapping themselves around her as she came to, as she came down from the most incredibly high. She pressed her forehead to his chest, ignoring the pebbles of sweat that glistened on his skin. He smelled so good, so musky and dark and exotic. So him. She tried to calm her breathing, tried to calm her pounding heart. “Fuck,” she mumbled, running shaky fingers through the hair nestled neatly between his pecs. She could feel his heart pounding too, she could feel his chest rising and falling in the same frantic way hers did.

  “Just, uhm-" Cef started, clearing his throat. "Just to be clear, I have no problems with chairs. I like them very much, as well."

  Karen snorted, her body shaking with laughter. She lifted her head to look at him, to laugh with him as he too began with a low rumbling. He traced her bottom lip with his thumb, his black eyes sparkled with humor when he grinned. Karen reached up to remove a few wayward dreads from his face, taking a moment to touch his horns again, feeling the cold, hard roughness under her palms. She wished she knew why it soothed and comforted her so much to touch them. She stretched her neck to kiss him but never got so far.

  A loud crack rang out in the empty diner. And then they both tumbled to the floor. The broken chair sliding away from them. Karen burst out laughing again, having fallen on her side next to Cef she buried her face in his chest again and shook her head. Cef chuckled, pulling her close to him. "Alright, so I like them better when they don't fall apart," he muttered against her hair. He attempted to kick a broken piece of the chair within reach, but his jeans were around his legs, boots still on his feet, and he failed. He had forgotten. He laughed at that, letting his head fall back down on the floor with a thump, crushing Karen's naked form to him harder, kissing her hair.

  “I don't think the diner chairs are really made for that kind of activity,” Karen reasoned, letting her fingers walk his chest, caressing his hot skin. Then she groaned and added, "It'll be a little awkward telling Alyssa how her furniture broke."

  “She can fix it,” Cef breathed, nuzzling closer to her, “Sly has done worse in here, I'm sure.”

  “And this?” Karen kissed up his throat, his jaw, then his lips. “Was this also just sex? Just another fuck? Meaning absolutely nothing?”

  He grunted at the question, nibbling on her lips. Shaking his head, he answered, "No, what this means is that we have a lot more furniture to break. Dining tables, kitchen tables, coffee tables, side tables, beds and couches and sofas, and even many, many more chairs." Karen giggled stupidly, and a little excitedly, at the notion. He raised his head to look her in the eyes. "You know I did not mean any of it, right? It's not meaningless. It's you- and it's me- and it's- It just is." He grappled for words. This was all new to him. How much could he say? How much to reveal?

  Sparing him an answer, Karen gently angled his face to hers and with a soft peck on his
lips agreed, "We just are." She sighed with a small laugh. "Cef, we've been sleeping together for exactly one day. One day only. We just are. We can't possibly put a title on this, I know that." As much as I want to, she admitted to herself bitterly. “I'm not asking for a commitment.”

  “Demons don't use those titles in relationships. We don't have relationships," Cef mumbled. Mate! The word all but hammered through him. “We choose our mate at some point, but...” he trailed off. Karen was human, it was hard to explain. She couldn't be his mate. Demons did not mate humans. It was unthinkable. It couldn't be done.

  Karen stretched out next to him on the floor and yawned. Her body snug against his, cuddling close with a content sigh. “I don't care,” she whispered, “We just are. For now, can we just be?”

  Cef grinned at her, nodding, brushing the hair from her forehead before kissing it. She fit him so well, lying there with her leg possessively over his, her arm around his waist, she fit right into the nook between arm and torso so he could hold her close to him with her head on his chest. Why did she have to be human?

  “But," she lifted her head, a stern expression on her face, "But if you ever say such things again, and I don't care if you don't mean them, I will hurt you."

  “Hurt me?” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a feral grin.

  “Punish you somehow,” she grumbled.

  His eyes darkened, and his grin widened, his horns shone in the artificial light and his eyebrows lowered over mischievous eyes. Her satyr was back, and she swallowed audibly at the sight. How was he allowed to be this sexy? “Oh, please, do punish me,” he purred, swiftly rolling over her, pinning her to the ground beneath him.

  “Cef!” she squealed. The floor was ice cold, it hadn't been that bad when she was sheltered by his warm body, but with her full backside making contact it felt like she was lying on ice. “It's freezing!”

  “I'll warm you,” he breathed before claiming her lips. Kissing her until she stopped squirming beneath him, until she laughed into his mouth and returned the kiss with a passion, until she wrapped her arms around him holding him close.

  “You're horrible!" she laughed.

  He growled playfully in return. “You're amazing."

  Whatever else that could have transpired on that floor, they never got that far. Embarrassingly enough, Karen’s stomach chose that moment to rumble so loudly Cef's eyebrows rose questioningly. She would have hidden her face if he didn't have her hands pinned above her head. "Sorry," she said, unable to hide the giggle, and confessed, "I can't remember the last time I ate."

  “Unacceptable.” He got up, pulling her with him. “Pete will have something.” She stumbled against him, then snorted in a laugh at the sight of her mighty Demon with his pants around his ankles. He pulled them up, amusement clear on his face. “Well, if you hadn't been in such a hurry.”

  “Me?” Karen threw his t-shirt at him shaking her head. “I seem to remember a certain Demon not having much time either.”

  Cef caught the t-shirt but discarded it over his shoulder before pulling her to him, into another heated embrace. “I have time for you.”

  “Shut up and help me find my underwear," she replied, pretending his soft-spoken words didn't make her insides flutter as much as they did.

  “You don't need it," he growled, crushing her tighter to him, feeling the length of her naked form against him. He groaned low in his throat and bent his head to kiss her shoulder. Her stomach answered him before she could, and he chuckled. "Alright, fine," he conceded, gathering up her underwear from under a stool.

  “Thank you," she said with a grateful nod, pulling it on. And then, just because she could, and because he didn't seem to be bothered with it, she decided on his t-shirt instead of her own. It smelled like him, it was nice and big and warm. And she wanted to be wrapped in him. She could feel Cef watching her. He didn't say anything, but she could see the approval shining from his eyes. It thrilled her on a level she didn't know she had. And then he went a step further and placed his heavy, thick coat around her shoulders as well. His hands lingered on the collar by her cheeks, a crooked smile playing on his lips. The gesture spoke volumes. Karen felt the butterflies threatening to burst through her belly.

  “Let's get something to eat,” Cef breathed eventually. She could only nod as he took her hand, leading her to the kitchen.

  The doors swung open exposing a nice clean kitchen, not a spot or a misplaced glass or plate in sight, shiny and ready for later. Not even the radio made a sound. But in the center of the shiny, metallic table stood a plate with steaming, freshly made, if Karen wasn't mistaken, blueberry pancakes. "Oh, Pete," she breathed, slapping her hand over her face. "I am so sorry, I am so so sorry about- about-" Motioning wildly to the diner, she couldn't get the words out. She had forgotten about the poltergeist, she had completely forgotten all about him being there, being able to see and hear everything. "-About- about that."

  Silence answered her. Nothing stirred. That only made her feel worse. And then, after what felt like minutes, even if it probably only was a few awkward seconds, the radio scratched. The sultry tones of Marvin Gaye's Let's get it on filled the kitchen. That definitely didn't make her any less embarrassed. She groaned and hid her face in her hands.

  Cef chuckled, snaking his arm around her waist as he scooped up the plate with his free hand. "Karen, he lives with Sly. He has seen much, much worse." That didn't make Karen feel any better. To the kitchen, he nodded his thanks and pulled Karen with him into Alyssa's office, Karen barely having time to shout out her gratitude for the breakfast at the poltergeist.

  “These are good,” Cef commented, tearing into a thick pancake before he had even put the plate down on the desk.

  “My absolute favorites," Karen agreed as she made herself comfortable, sitting cross-legged on the desk next to them. Cef tore a pancake in half, offering her a piece. The sight of her shirtless Demon with blueberry juice on his fingers made her feel a little naughty. She bit her lip, leaning forward and opened her mouth. He raised one eyebrow at her, his smirk dangerous, and fed her a little chunk, grinning as she licked his fingers clean. When he fed her the next bite, she held him between her lips for just a few heartbeats.

  “Keep this up and we won't have time to eat," he warned her, his grin savage and more than a little hopeful as he fed her another piece. He watched her tongue wrap around his fingers, sliding in between them, her eyes locked on his. "You are teasing me, little human," he managed to get out while suppressing a groan. He could count the pulse beats in his groin that throbbed eagerly at that point. “Is this the way you punish me?”

  “Damn straight," Karen drawled, running her tongue along her upper lip, pretending to lick the blueberry juice she knew wasn't there. Cef's jaw tensed at the sight, his eyes hooded, narrowed as his arousal flared up anew. He dropped his pancake. She then straightened and grabbed her own pancake, batted her eyelashes and smiled sweetly as she chewed. "Aren't these just so good?" she asked him innocently.

  This time Cef really did groan. “Torturer,” he accused her, pulling her to him, kissing the nape of her neck.

  She giggled and quickly grabbed the remote for the tv. She could feel his amorous kisses growing heated, she could feel his hands beginning to roam. The tv was a distraction. For her as well as him, because she could feel her body reacting to his touch instantly, feel the excitement growing within her the second he pulled her close. But hunger won out in the end.

  The tv clicked on. Karen flicked through the various channels, good morning this, good morning that, cartoons, when she landed on the news. That was when Cef finally tore his attention away from her and looked up at the screen.

  A windswept reporter stood in front of a store that probably used to be a glittering, expensive shopping experience but the broken windows and scattered inventory made it look derelict. Karen immediately knew why. Snow whipped the reporter in the face and he desperately tried shielding his stiff, overly sprayed, hair with an umbre
lla. It wasn't working. "Just last night the police had them cornered in Georgie Armani here on Fifth Avenue, expecting what most of all resembled a showdown between the Demons and themselves. While shots were fired, believing to have taken down at least one of the gang members, when police stormed the place the Demons had vanished into thin air." Police moved around behind him, behind the security tape surrounding the store. "Not a trace of them left in there, nothing found on the scene but destruction and a strange layer of dust in the middle of the floor. The Demons have terrorized the streets continuously since their first appearance but have not been either seen or heard since last night, it is as if they have simply disappeared."

  Karen scoffed at the tv. “They wouldn't just stop, would they?” she asked. “This is going to sound a little too hopeful, but they wouldn't just drop their plan and go back to Hell, would they?”

  Cef shook his head, chewing his pancake thoughtfully. “No.” Swallowing he grumbled, “Nor would they just disappear from a confrontation like that. Demons don't back down. I have been patrolling the city all night, every street, every alley, every nook and cranny I could find. Their scent is everywhere but fading.” Absentmindedly he fed Karen a piece of his pancake before stuffing the rest of it in his mouth. “I wasn't sure why,” he continued once he had swallowed again, “But they must have retreated for a reason. They achieved something tonight. I am supposed to stay away from them, but I need to know what it is. If only I had found the rift.”

  Karen bit her lip. She wanted to tell him, desperately. Her whole body tightened in guilt and the feeling of betrayal scratched up her spine. She couldn't tell him, he was in danger. He would put himself in more danger, Alyssa had made that clear. Suddenly the pancake she was chewing didn't taste as sweet, in fact, it filled her mouth making it hard for her to swallow. She was trying to help him, trying to keep him safe. She kept telling herself that, but it didn't make her feel any better.