"I don't want to look like a kid next to you! And--what about..." My eyes roved to his groin. It still didn't have a bulge like Variel's, but Variel did wear tighter pants. "What if your penis is too big?" I whispered.
He laughed outright. "I promise you that as you get more experience with penises..." He paused. "Well, just one of them, actually... You'll be fine with it."
"I hope so. Because it still hurts a little, but right now it's not a bad kind of hurt."
"I promise. We're not talking that much more dick size, really." He let out his breath and pulled more blankets over me. "You've got to stop talking about that when you're too sick to try it out. The fantasies I've had about you the last couple of days..."
"I'm sure I would have thought the same if I'd been awake," I said. "I'll feel better soon." I paused. "Can I...see how much bigger it is?" I put my hand between his legs.
I felt a need to stake my claim on this man. To feel, in this most tangible way, that I had his heart too. I felt him getting harder even as I placed my hand there. His breath came faster as my fingers probed through the black cotton work pants he was wearing. I felt his cock flex against my hand and strain the fabric.
“That's...that's..." He put a hand over mine, like he wanted to stop me, but he also really didn't.
"It does feel a little bigger," I said. "But I guess, not too bad."
His hips slowly flexed in agony. "You are...such a flirt," he said.
"If you really need to do it, I probably am too weak to stop you."
His eyes widened. "I'm not going to do that!"
I lifted my brows. "You could."
"You're barely coming back from death."
"Yeah, I know, I just...miss you too. And maybe I'm getting used to your bigger size already. At least, I'm wondering how it'll feel to have your arms around me and feel so small..."
"Damnit," he groaned. He got up and locked the door, then drew the curtains. He stood over me and I finally got an eyeful of just how much more imposing he was, although he was still much more lean and agile looking than Variel. "Are you really sure?"
"I mean...is it contagious?” I asked.
"I...don't know," he said. “I don’t think so. I think you only get it in the swamps.”
"Well, if it is, I'll be getting better as you get sick, and I'll take care of you."
He growled like I was driving him crazy and he thought I was being irresponsible, but then he slid into bed with me and pulled the covers over both of us.
"You still have a fever," he said. "I can feel you burning."
"I think I'd feel more alive if you were inside me..."
He pushed up my nightgown. It was a real object of clothing, so I couldn't make it disappear. He made his own clothing vanish, so I could feel the skin of his thighs against mine. He propped himself up over me so I didn't bear any of his weight, and pushed into me with a groan like he was succumbing to something he couldn't resist.
"You are wet...," he said. "It is pretty sexy that you got wet for me while you're this sick."
"Well...," I gasped. "I just think you're pretty sexy yourself."
He slid deeper into me more slowly, letting me take in his larger size. He was right, though--it wasn't too big to fit. Actually, it didn't feel as different as I feared, as long as we took it slow like the first time. I had to trust him, since this time, he was on top of me and I didn't have much strength, but he was being extra-careful.
"You're burning inside," he said, starting to sweat under the blankets with me. "But you feel so damn good..." He slowly flexed his hips, and I felt the sweet friction of his skin on mine, the way I slowly stretched out more and more to accommodate him as he moved inside me.
My body still responded to him like it always had, but I was struggling for each breath as the excitement and desire quickened my lungs.
He stopped, still inside me, but not moving. "No, this isn't good. You can't breathe."
I clutched his arm. "Just come inside me, and then stop. I want to feel you mark me."
I couldn't have explained what was making me talk like this, except that it had something to do with talking with Piers and thinking of Bernard, and the subsequent dream. I didn't mean to start comparing Piers with Bernard or having even the slightest thought about him, but deep down, I knew that feeling existed.
I still feared that if Bernard whistled, I would come--that something would compel me to his side and I would be helpless.
This was my best defense. Bevan, claiming me when I was vulnerable. Bevan, claiming me always. The more I became a part of him, the less I would be a part of someone else. Every ragged breath, every little pain I felt as he fucked me--urged, no doubt, by my fingernails digging into his arm whenever he stopped--was a layer of protection.
I wasn't trying to reach a climax myself, but it started happening anyway, although weakly. He felt so good and right inside me, and I was very turned on by the fact that he didn't resist--that he was even being a little rough.
My cry of pleasure was a ragged whimper, while he was breathing deep and fast.
"Celeste," he said, pressing my arms into the pillows.
"Not yet," I choked.
He growled as he came hard inside me, and I knew he was trying not to make too much noise, but his face showed that he really wanted to.
"Gods..." He slowed his movements and waited for my body to relax around his completely before he pulled out. He sprawled beside me again, but under the covers now, and slowly traced lines down my breasts, stomach and thighs with his fingers. It was both stimulating and very comforting.
"What are you holding back?" he asked. "Why not claim your real name? You don't really want to be Jenny."
I bit my lip. "I don't. I've never been...right, as Jenny. I'm not her."
"You're my Celeste," he said.
"In private," I finally said. "Only when we're alone. I'm...I'm not ready."
"It's because Bernard has some hold on you," Bevan said, anger suddenly darkening his voice, whiplash-fast. "But he will never get you back from me. I'll fight for you...anytime, anywhere."
I wrapped my arms around Bevan's neck and folded my body against him, feeling that protection wash over me.
"I take it back," I said, kissing his broad chest. "I do like you this way."
Chapter Seven
Jenny
I felt a little bit better the next day after a good night's sleep, knowing Bevan was near, but when I woke, it was Variel there with me again.
"I--I told you I didn't want to see you."
"But you were happy enough to let Piers care for you?" Variel looked offended, his eyes lifting from a book. "I am not doing anything to bother you."
"I've already explained why I'm upset with you. I'd rather be by myself."
"I was instructed to make sure you eat, once you've woken up again," he said. "Something more solid this time."
I really wasn't good at being insistent, so I watched and bit my tongue as he served up some new dish. Chicken soup, I was pretty sure. He gave me the bowl and silently watched me take the first bite. "Do you need any salt?" he asked.
"No! Please just...step outside or something.”
His lip curled, like the answer disgusted him. Well, we agreed on something.
"My lady," he said, and just the way he'd decided he was going to call me by some formal title now was awkward. “As I said, the faery queen personally requested that I attend to you."
"Does the faery queen want to punish me!?"
His red eyes smoldered with either anger or chagrin; it was hard to tell because his face was always restrained of emotion. His features were noble, and I didn't used to mind looking at them, but now I only felt pain when I saw him, as I was reminded how I almost trusted him once.
"No," he said. "She wants to punish me. In fact, she wants you to decide the punishment. I suspect she is forcing us together so you can get a good judge of my character."
I was absorbed in a coughing fit when I tried
to speak. "I have to decide your punishment!?"
"Indeed."
"But I...I don't really want to punish people. I'm afraid I'll go soft on you!"
He gave me a tight smile that was dangerously close to a smirk. "You are certainly a gentle personality. I could give you some advice on how to best punish someone."
I had the feeling that this would sound naughty. He wasn't even the smallest bit intimidated at the idea of my punishment. I couldn't blame him. I didn't want to see anyone tortured, or locked in a dungeon eating rat-infested food. Not even Variel.
Maybe the punishment should fit the crime, I thought. Someone could watch him while he has sex!
No, I had the distinct feeling that wouldn't mean much to him the way it did to me. Plus, I didn't want to watch him have sex with anyone.
“I don’t want you to go too soft on me,” Variel said. “Perhaps you could tie me to a post and strike me until I bleed all over and then leave me there for days.”
“That sounds absolutely terrible.”
“But I would endure it bravely,” Variel said. “Then, you’d feel much better about my company after that, because we’d have had it out.”
“I think I would just be haunted by it forever…”
“I think I would remember it fondly as a sign of your strength, my lady.”
“You’re a very strange man.”
“And you are too dear a girl for this task. I’m sure that’s why everyone’s in love with you.”
“Everyone? In love with me? I hardly know anyone."
"If Piers isn't in love with you as well, I shall eat a boulder," Variel said. "But I certainly don't understand why the queen wants him to attend to you as well. He isn't your fated husband like I am, or…your lad Bevan.”
“I am going to find some kind of good punishment for you," I tried. "Something you'll really hate!" But even as I made the threat, I couldn't imagine really having the heart to do anything truly terrible.
“Sir?" Jameson and Gillian appeared in the door. "We brought Jenny some flowers. I made Uram stay in the rooms."
"Jameson! You're human!" I was much happier to see the servants.
Gillian rushed up to me with the flowers. Knowing Gillian, I really expected her to spill them on me, but instead she messed up in a surprise way and put them in my drinking glass. The bouquet was made up of a lovely shade of lilies I'd never seen before, a deep periwinkle.
"Yes," Jameson said. "Lord Variel gave me a human body! One of my legs seems to be slightly shorter than the other..."
"Well, that's because the magic to give you a body is formed from all the bits and pieces I've devoured; I'm not a flesh mage," Variel said.
"I guess it'll do," Jameson said.
"I could give you that harpy body back at any time," Variel said. "If I were you, I should not complain.”
"Thank you for the body," Jameson said reluctantly. “I suppose you did the best you were capable of.”
I was mulling over Variel's punishment, thinking that I really needed to remember all of this.
"Jameson just auditioned for--" Gillian started, and Jameson clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Nothing," he said.
"Auditioned?" Variel said. "Since when do you have time to act? You are my servant, and we won't be staying that long."
"Don't you think the queen will put you in prison?" Gillian asked, and then she cowered as Variel loomed over her, his eyes scorching now.
"Are the two of you now making life plans here, expecting me to be in prison?"
"No," Jameson said. "That is, sir, I thought that I would only ask you if I got a part. The faeries are putting on their first Shakespearean production, since they were withdrawn from the world before the Bard lived. It will be a rare treat to see them experience it for the first time, don’t you think?”
"I'll enjoy it just as well without you in it," Variel said.
I hope I get to consult with the queen about how to punish him, I thought. Maybe she'll have some advice on how to do it without feeling guilty about it.
"I really hope you can be in the play," I said. "I'll enjoy it more if a friend is in it." I stared at Variel.
"I only have three servants now," Variel said. "I can't let them go off to countless rehearsals."
"You have six servants," Gillian said.
"Yes, Gillian--for once, you are right. I do have six servants. Now, would you two go to the kitchens and ask for some more soup to keep on the fire for when Jenny is hungry?"
"I just ate," I said, but I was ignored.
"You must build your strength,” Variel said. "You will certainly need all your strength to be my wife."
“What a terrible thing to say!" I exploded, disgusted by the implication.
"I didn't mean it like that," he said. "I only meant that when we are married, and I make love to you, I will already have to take care not to hurt you, considering my size and strength.”
“Variel, that is exactly how I thought you meant it," I growled.
“No, no, I thought you might be worried I would whip you, and I do very much want to assure that I would never do anything to hurt my wife. In fact, I would protect you from anything that would threaten you, even sickness—even childbirth.”
"The last thing I would ever to is willingly let you touch me. I know your father told you that you need to be cruel all the time--"
"What makes you think that?"
"I read the letter he wrote you.”
“You read that letter?”
“Yes.”
“Are you usually in the habit of reading things that men keep tucked into a book next to their bed?”
“Are you embarrassed by that letter? Because really, it’s the only thing that kept me from completely hating you.”
"That letter was a long time ago," Variel said. "I don't need to be told how to behave to be an admired demon anymore."
“I don’t want an ‘admired’ demon! Get it through your thick skull, Variel--you're not in Sinistral and no one cares how mean of a demon you are!" As soon as I said it, I cringed, because I'd never tried out really yelling at anyone before. i didn't think I was capable of expressions like "get it through your thick skull", but it felt pretty good.
“So you want a man like me to be all soft and gently teasing you like Bevan?”
“I—“ I stopped.
When he put it like that…well, I did have this weird thought that I didn’t want Variel to act like Bevan. “Bevan isn’t soft!” I said, dodging the question, because it made me have too many thoughts about how I would like Variel to be, and that was really beside the point.
Variel let out a breath and stood up with a quick bow. "I have upset you to the point where it may endanger your health. That won't do. So I will wait outside for any call from you."
"Thank you," I said. It was about time he listened to me.
The room was now very empty. He'd left a few books on the nightstand, so I could read, which was how I passed all my idle hours back home in Florida. I picked up a book, but I kept staring at the empty room.
I had been lonely for so long. Now I thought that the happiest night of my life was when Bevan and I slept together in his bed while the lights of Variel's cabin shone just next door, knowing that in the morning, I would stoke the fire in the oven and make something for the whole gang.
I thought I had a family. But he was the one who spoiled it.
Chapter Eight
Bevan
Helena would die laughing if she saw me getting up early to run. I couldn't sleep. In the middle of the night, I was pondering how much of Variel's power I might still take from him. Deep down, I knew I should stop here, but he wasn't putting it to any good use. Why shouldn't a familiar have the powers of a high demon? If I took all of his power, that was another high demon wiped off the face of the earth, and I'd lead the familiars to a better future.
Anyway, I just felt pumped. I hoped demon blood didn't turn me into a jacked bro, but I had al
l this excess restless energy, and so I was running down the narrow roads of La Serenissima.
It didn't hurt that this was a beautiful city to explore, a parallel of Venice, eternally caught in the time when Venice was a romantic dreamland of candle and lamplight, gondolas, and carnivals. In the fae realm, there was no global warming or cruise ships full of tourists to mess things up. At this hour, the sunrise was hitting the stone buildings and church towers and turning them stunning colors of pink and orange while the alleys were still nearly dark, with lanterns glowing in the windows for the early shoppers.
I had the weird feeling that the fae ladies were checking me out as I ran by them, towering over their heads.
When I had worked up a good sweat, and stopped to rest, a young faery maid came out of her shop to offer me a towel and water. She was blushing. "You look to need it, sir."
"Thanks." I felt bad that I had no interest in giving her the time of day, because as I was running I was thinking of how Jenny still wanted me when she was sick.
Ego getting a little out of hand there, Bevan? Maybe you shouldn't have spent quite so much time in the form of a wisecracking bat after all. Or maybe it's just that some demon blood is good for attracting the ladies.
I returned to the palace to take care of Jenny for a shift, wanting just to spend time with her and no one else.
“I'm feeling a hundred times better!" she said, when I walked in the door. Her color had returned, and the room didn't have the smell of illness anymore, just woodsmoke and soup. "I want to get out of bed! Am I allowed to see the faery realm?"
"I'm sure you're allowed," I said. "You could use fresh air. And it's gorgeous here. The autumn air and the sea breeze make for some chills, though, so I think I should find you a real coat and not just conjured clothes."
"Do you think I can see the kitchens?"
"Forget the kitchens," I said. "While I was out running this morning I saw just the place to take you."
"Where?"
"Let it be a surprise. Hang on." I turned to the door, and then I noticed her staring at me eagerly and I couldn't help but go over and kiss her first.
Bat Out of Hell (Promised to the Demons Book 2) Page 4
