by S J Doran
“Mara.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair to get access to her ear, ignoring her mounting struggles. “You’re angry with me for something that couldn’t be helped?” he whispered, and she stilled against him, for a moment, their bodies melting into one another. He pressed a soft kiss just under her earlobe and her breath left her in a huff.
“You want to know what I want?” He shifted himself, his erection pressing against the softness of her belly, body shuddering with the need for release.
“Do you know that in all of the years, all of the thousands of others I’ve been with sexually,” she made a furious grunt of indignation, but he pressed on, walking her back towards the sofa, “not one of them asked me of my preference. Do you know what my preference is Mara?”
She whimpered, her eyes flashing with rage, but she didn’t utter a word. She’d witnessed his preference often enough.
“You.” He turned her roughly, bending her over the curled back of the sofa and leaning over her to speak in her ear. “Like this, Mara.” She squirmed against him, which wasn’t effective for anything except rubbing her ass against his aching erection.
“I’ll have you like this, and fuck you so hard. So deep. You won’t be able to take in a breath without whimpering. With long, slow strokes that will rub against your g-spot until it is swollen and you’re so wet it’s running down both of our legs,” she whimpered, then moaned as he gripped her hips and spun her to face him. “Then I’ll take you like this. Hard.” He kissed down the column of her throat. “Making sure every stroke rubs against your clit until you’re clenching me so hard I have to struggle not to come.”
“Cass,” she moaned.
He tore open her robes, sliding his hand up her thigh, parting her softly, sinking a finger in deep, then pulling back and pushing in two. She was hot, wet… so ready. Her lust blazed through him, nearly bringing him to his knees.
“You’re soaked.” He licked off his fingers, her eyes following every movement. “And I owe you one, don’t I?”
He dropped to his knees in front of her, lifting her leg over his shoulder, parting her folds with his tongue. He clumsily undid his own pants, his hand wrapping around himself, his other hand holding her fast.
“That’s it,” he whispered against her, between sucks and nibbles and feasting like he were a starving man. He was. For her. Never enough.
She cried out as she came, hot and clenching against his tongue and with one final long lick, he got to his feet, stroking himself fast, groaning as he watched spurts of his cum lash over her thighs and belly, making a mess of her clothes.
She looked down and gave him a disgruntled look as he smirked back, quite proud of his handiwork. She brushed his hair off his forehead and he pulled her into his arms. She couldn’t stay mad at him, he wouldn’t let her.
“All I want,” he trailed his lips up her jaw, whispering against her mouth, “is to amass enough power to override our reaction to each other. To have enough power to absorb the reaction we create. We will be together. I will find a way.”
His tongue swiped across her lower lip and she fought her arms free of the tangles of her robes, digging them into his hair and grasping, pulling his head back until he was forced to meet her eyes.
“Why?” her voice wavered and she bit down on her lip, holding back whatever else she was about to say. “Why’d you have to bring the angel here, Cass?”
“I don’t want her.” He helped her to her feet, looking down at her. “Mara. I don’t want to want anyone else. I’m fighting my very nature, my power doesn’t care, it just needs…”
“Stop. You need to stop doing this to yourself. To us.” She pulled her robes closed, covering up his artwork.
“Short of death, I don’t believe that’s possible,” he said, running his fingers down the front of her damp robes with a smirk as she smacked his hand away.
“I haven’t given up,” she said, looking down at her hands and fidgeting with her rings. “Kali promised…”
“The promise of a goddess who holds hardly any power? I can’t help but think…”
She pressed her finger against his lips to quiet his possibly blasphemous words. Her eyes darting around the room before meeting his, her fathomless cyan depths pleading.
“I owe her a debt Cass, I wouldn’t have made it out of Ghata’n alive had it not been for her intervention. And in turn she offers our salvation, a way for us to be together.”
His chest felt like bursting the emotion was so acute. Happiness? Hope? Was it possible? He opened his mouth to speak, wrapping it around her finger which still lingered on his lips, his tongue trailing up, his eyes locked with hers.
His mind was racing with thoughts. What could Mara have possibly offered for a benefit so profound? To his own reasoning, the old gods wouldn’t be well-served to have warlocks and demons bound so completely. They’d be too powerful, leaving little use for the ancient ones. In fact, he suspected it was their tampering that had set them up for such a colossal failure of fate.
“What does she ask for in return?” He traced Kali’s mark with the tip of his finger. “What can she do for us — I’ve looked into every angle — I give up the Realms, and every life within, or I give up any future with you. I don’t know of a way to give up my power.”
Her brows knitted together, her mouth dropping open. “Why in all the Hells would you even think of giving up your power?”
He pinched her chin lightly, brushing his thumb across her lip. “I’d rather have you. I’d give it all up for you…”
“You’d surrender your power before you’d let them all die? You have any idea how many enemies we have between us? You’d be risking our lives to preserve theirs.” She blew out a long breath, stepping out of his reach.
He heard her exhale. Ignored it. His steps were hesitant as he made his way back to his desk, not wanting to look at her, he didn’t want to see the defeat in her eyes, that would truly take away what remained of his hope.
“I get it. Part of me even envies your ability for compassion, but that doesn’t mean I understand it. Nor doesn’t it mean it’s right.”
“And what are you giving up?” He was still once more, trying to puzzle out just what she wanted from him. “Tell me what sort of dark deal you made with the goddess of death and destruction?” He slumped into his desk chair, watching her warily.
“I don’t know, she didn’t say. But should the Rod not offer the solution, then at least we still have a chance at a future together. Isn’t that what matters? Isn’t that worth everything?” She straightened her back and stared him down, challenge sparking within those sharp eyes.
“Yes.” He flipped through the book to the text on the Rod, allowing Mara to read over his shoulder, moments passed in silence before he couldn’t stand it anymore and pulled her into his lap. He wouldn’t allow this distance, not when she was within his reach.
“I should have talked to you about her first.”
Stubborn as she was, she stiffened in his arms, her posture rigid and unyielding in his hold. She didn’t want to hear the words, he needed them said. But soon her cool skin warmed beneath his touch, his Mara softening in his arms, relenting. Angry as she was, she would always respond to him. She was his, because he was hers alone.
“Yes, you should have.” Her chin stuck up proudly, teeth worrying her bottom lip as if to stave off her next words. “Admittedly, I probably should have consulted with you before agreeing to a divine vow.”
“Yes, you should have.” He squeezed, pressing her tighter to his body, aware of the difference in the way her body melted against his now that her anger had abated.
Define Monster
“Just grabbing a shower,” Jez walked through the room, stopping when he saw Mara with him. “Oh. Hi Amara.”
She lifted her head from Cass’s shoulder and waved back as Jez walked by.
“Pay attention, priestess.” He grabbed her chin and turned her face back to the desk.
“Don’t ma
ke me bite you, demon.”
He snorted, leaning close to whisper, smiling when she shivered. “Tease.”
With a soft chuff, she went back to scanning the page. They’d found some information on the Rod, nothing that Cass didn’t know. Made of one large ruby, imbued with the infernal magicks the gem formed within, last known whereabouts, Bloise the Lich King who had sold his soul to Asmodeus for the ability to tap into the power of the Rod.
Asmodeus, being the Demon King that he was, tricked the mortal and gave him the Ruby staff, but with its power bound. Likely, saving the mortal’s life. No mortal had the constitution to wield the amount of infernal energy that the Ruby Rod contained.
Because of the arguably borderline breaking of the contract, Asmodeus forever edging the line of the law, it also extended the mortal’s life, and created the first-ever Lich, binding the mortal’s soul to his slowly rotting corpse.
Mara was warm in his arms, his chair just this side of uncomfortable, the only thing keeping him awake. It had been one hell of a long day, starting with waking up in their makeshift bed, so long ago now it seemed the distant past.
“So what are you going to do about Levistus wanting to see Glasya?” Jez said as he casually strolled out of the bathroom, wearing his usual sleep attire, pajama pants. He had a rolled towel over his shoulders, framing the muscles of his chest and abs, as he used a corner of it to dab the water off his face.
Mara grabbed Cass’s chin and turned his face back to hers. “Seriously?” She frowned, arching a brow. “Not enough that I have to worry about females in your bed?”
“What?” He blinked, pulling his face out of her pinching grip.
Her brows drew together slowly, and she turned to face Jez. “Levistus wants to see Glasya?”
Jez looked at Cass raising both brows. “Yeah. Official request through the Archduke Belial and all. Did you forget Cass?”
He cleared his throat. He had forgotten. Or, it had been the least of his concerns.
“Are you going to release her? If Levistus asks?” Mara pushed herself off his chest and sat up, Cass’s eyes snagging on the silk stretched taut over her chest. “They’re all still making moves around us, forgetting the board is ours.”
“I’m not going to allow Belial to remove her from the pits,” he said, tugging on the neckline of her robes, confused. Mara was built beautifully lithe, her breasts fit perfectly in the palms of his hands… now they looked as though they’d spill out of his hands— and he had large hands.
“So what’s this then?” Jez leaned over the desk, his eyes scanning the page they’d left the book open to. “The Ruby Rod of Asmodeus. You really want something that held your father’s powers? He’s genuinely evil Cass, I…”
“Spare the lecture.” He helped Mara to her feet, scanning her up and down as she moved to pour herself a drink. “Mara and I are going on a quest.” He took her drink from her hands and cupped her face in his palms. “Right?”
She rolled her eyes and picked her drink back up, a mischievous smile breaking across her face. “A noble quest.” She nodded and side-eyed Jez.
Cass nodded, smiling as brightly as Mara. “To secure the fabled Rod that will absorb the excesses of our power so I can finally fuck my wife good and proper.”
Mara choked on her drink, breaking down in giggles, Jez just stared, not even a hint of a smile.
“You plan on feeding that thing power?”
“Yes, I trust you’ll ensure the old goat doesn’t sneak off and set free mother dearest while we’re gone,” Mara said as she refilled her glass.
“You’re leaving again?” Jez was definitely looking grumpy.
“Not until Az is okay to come back to help deter the crowds. And you’ll have Benzosia here now.” He grasped Mara’s hips with a lingering squeeze. Fuller too.
With an irritated sigh, Jez made his way to his room, stopping in the doorway to look back.
“Try not to die,” Jez snarked, but Cass could feel his burning concern.
With his forehead pressed against hers, he finally eased, his hands roaming while allowing the tension of duty and responsibility to roll off him. Focusing on her, only her. Her hot breath brushed against his lips, sweetened with the lingering taste of black magic.
“Confess Mara, what did you take? You look different.” The gentle curves beneath red silk had felt more pronounced to his touch, her figure fuller than his memory reconciled. And he had memorized her well.
“Nothing of any significance.”
She’d been about to pull back when he caught that plump bottom lip, licking the lingering hint of lust and magic from her mouth, not relenting until she gave up a throaty moan.
A knowing smile spread across his lips. “You taste like magic and vanity…”
His body ached by the time his palm cupped a soft breast, his fingers drawn to that small, stiffened bead beneath the taut silk. “Glamour tinctures, how many?”
“Hmm?” She was purring at his touch. “Just a few...”
He had to fight his own compulsion to surrender to temptation, his grip tightening. “I highly doubt those are the result of a ‘just a few.'”
Different tones of turquoise blended together in her eyes, and he found himself biting back a grin when those deep pools flashed a bright cyan with shock when she gazed down to follow the trail of his finger.
“Oh…”
His eyes dipped down too, he couldn’t help it. His gaze devouring the sight of the normally loose fabric drawn tight across her body. “How many?”
“I... I just wanted to add some additional mass. Not necessarily erect mountains.” She pulled aside the silk neckline, his breath seizing when her hands moved to confirm the discovery. “Dark gods, look at them, they’re huge!”
The sound he’d managed to produce in answer had either been a groan, moan or laugh. Even he couldn’t be sure. Holy Hells but he loved her. His wife the most exquisite creature in creation, even if her brain was clearly invaded by maggots. “How many?”
“Eight?”
“Eight drops?”
“Uhhh no, vials...”
“Eight vials?” His mind sputtered, physical excitement giving way for concern. Over the years he’d seen plenty of his father’s women grow ill after overdosing on tinctures, each of them desperate to retain his affections in any way they could. Shame settled over him.
“We best see Rasputin about this before you start getting sick.”
“No! I mean, I have a high tolerance and the tinctures will surely wear off after a while.” Wickedness and mirth lit up her face, that smile of hers his second favorite expression on her. “And you have to admit, they look rather impressive.”
“Minx.” It took an unhealthy amount of self-restraint to pull back after reverently pressing his mouth upon the seductive swell of each breast. “If they keep developing at this speed, they’ll soon need honorary mentions in topographical charts.”
“I can hear the court gossip now. The tragic demise of Warlock Queen Amara, crushed to death by her own tits.”
“You’re impossible...” he sighed a heavy breath and pulled back a step, concern flaring brighter than need as he gently pulled his exquisitely crazed wife along through the already opening Hellgate. “Come on. We can harass Levistus while we’re in the medical rooms.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” she sighed, rolled her eyes, but he could see he’d won the argument. “I get to be the bad cop.”
“You’re always the bad cop,” he laughed and wrapped an arm over her shoulder as they walked through her bedroom and out into the halls. “You don’t even have to say anything they’re frightened of your mere reputation.”
“It’s no mere…” she glared up at him and he just kept grinning. “When they know you’re a monster, you don’t have to continue doing monstrous things.” A fleeting frown crossed her face and he kissed the top of her head.
“You’re not a monster.”
“Course I am, Cass. I’ve had to be
. The powerless get slaughtered.”
They walked into Levistus’s medical suite; he was sleeping and Benzosia dozed on the chair beside the bed.
“Rasputin’s not here. Where else would he be?” He grabbed her hand and gave it a shake. “Where else?”
Benzosia cracked open her eyes and pointed a finger at the adjoining door. “He had a potion to tend to,” she said with a gruff whisper.
Utterly mad
Apothecary desks lined the walls, a pot in the corner steaming with what she hoped against better odds were non-toxic fumes. Lacking any sense of self preservation when in the grip of curiosity, her demon walked right over to a wall shelf and started turning dusty bottles. She watched as Cass opened a bottle, sniffed it, then fumbled as he tried to shove it back on the shelf as quickly as physically possible without dropping the contents to the floor.
He didn’t look well. His eyes were hooded with exhaustion, his sun-kissed skin paler than usual. But the Nessus was appeased for a time and her gluttonous demon had fed well. Rest would probably serve them both best at this point.
“When are you going to tell your people I’m your husband?”
“Are we back to this?” She let out a long-suffering sigh. She would as soon as she could be a wife to him. He had needs, the kind she could not provide for, yet. It wasn’t right, and she desperately needed it to be.
“Da! Such news would go over great with the masters of the realm.” Rasputin came in the room right then, chuckling. “They’re already on the verge of revolution. All due respect, Sarratum, I have seen my share of monarchies fall.” The mad monk stopped in his erratic tracks just long enough to cast Cass a measuring glance, “Sarrum. They are fearful of the demonarchy, and resentful of prior betrayal, one which also started with a royal matrimony. Offer something to allay their fears, because they will not easily bend the knee to the demonarchy again.”
“They’re not asked to bend the knee to any but their regents, Cassius is their Sarrum and will be obeyed as such.” She glanced up to discover the demon in question grinning widely at her, the brat. “Soon.”
