A Demon And His Witch (13 page)

Oh, shuddering fucking hell. Now there was a bridge he’d cross tomorrow, or maybe in a decade. Yeah, the longer he kept the pair apart, the better. And he really needed to stop thinking of his mom because his witch nipped him hard, sensing his distraction.

How remiss of him. He hugged her tight to let her know he’d not forgotten and let his tongue ply hers with sensual caresses that soon had her moaning deliciously again.

Tonight, or what was left of it, he intended to take full advantage of his witch’s passion. Hopefully, he’d make it memorable enough she wouldn’t kill him in the morning – or make fun of him for still living with his parents.

Thankfully, his family home wasn’t too far from the portal, and he staggered there, drunk on kisses, letting himself in via an old fashioned manner when he realized he’d have to let her go if he wanted to grab his key. Fuck that. He kicked the door in, an impatient act that earned him breathy giggles that made his rope of patience snap.

Using his booted foot, he managed to slam the door shut, kind of. It no longer wanted to latch, but at least they were out of view. And best of all, alone.

Pressing her up against the wall, he tore at her blouse, ripping buttons off in his haste. Her creamy breasts appeared encased in black lace, the tops of them spilling over. He buried his face in that sweet valley while she clutched at his hair.

“I can’t wait,” he groaned. “I’m sorry. I need you so fucking bad.”

“Do it,” she urged. “Before I change my mind and remember why this is a bad idea.”

Oh no she wouldn’t. Seams ripped, fabric parted in record time as he bared her from the waist down. But, he left her sexy heels on.

Cupping her pussy, he growled in pleasure at the heat and moisture he found. How he longed to taste it. But he also wanted to sink into her. Dammit. What was a poor demon to do?

Show a little restraint and finesse.

Dropping to his knees, she clasped his hair and gasped as he nuzzled her mound. She didn’t stop him when he pushed at her thighs, parting them. The scent of her arousal, a heady aroma that made his head swim, also made his mouth water. His first lick, a slow, long swipe of his tongue, had her shuddering and sighing his name. Again, he licked her, tasting her honey, feeling the quiver of her flesh, the biting dig of her nails in his scalp. The tip of his tongue flicked rapidly, back and forth against her clit, stroking her nub, heightening her pleasure until she keened and squirmed. But he drew back before letting her climax because he wanted to feel her coming on his cock, would die, probably, if he didn’t soon ease the pressure building inside him since they met.

Standing, he kept one hand on her sex, lightly stroking her to keep her at a fevered pitch. Her breathing, fast and furious, she regarded him with a heavy lidded passion that brought forth a possessive growl.
Mine.
He couldn’t free his shaft fast enough.

Palming her full ass cheeks, he lifted her as he caught her lips for a kiss. She didn’t seem to mind the taste of herself on his tongue, the same honey that rubbed along his cock as he slid it under her sex, teasing them both. Her legs wrapped around his waist, loosely though which gave him room to juggle her into position so that the head of his cock came to rest at the entrance of her sex.

He paused before plunging, hesitating because for some reason he knew he stood on the brink of a life changing moment.
Once I claim her with my body, that’s it. There will be no other women for me.
He didn’t question where this certainty came from. He just knew it to be true.

It didn’t stop him.

He pressed the head of his shaft into her. Scalding and moist, he panted as her tight channel gripped him and forced him to penetrate her with a slowness that was both excruciating and damned wonderful. Inch by inch, he made his way into her sex, pushing at the flesh that was tense with excitement. It took a pleasurable eternity before he was fully sheathed, her pussy quivering all around him. Adjusting his grip so that he held her by both thighs with her back flat against the wall, he rotated his hips, driving deeper into her. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders and she bit his lip as he gyrated again, finding her sweet spot and stimulating it. She mewled, a sound that sent shivers to wrack his body as he sensed her need. A need he would fulfill.

Slowly, despite his raging desire to thrust hard and fast, with restraint and a precision that made his body gleam with sweat, he swirled and pressed, never retreating far from her flesh but instead rubbing it, grinding into her.

Talk about agony as he held back. Talk about iron control as her body grew tighter and tighter, squeezing his cock almost painfully. And then, with a loud cry, she came apart. Her climax pulsed, undulating waves of heat and moisture that suctioned his shaft, as he finally allowed himself to lose control and thrust into her. The trembling wave tumbled into a second strangling spasm that made him yell her name as he jetted into her. And still the pleasure kept coming.

He caught her lips and kissed her as he kept his hips thrusting, milking every last ounce of bliss from the moment.

Intense, Hell shattering, body weakening, and more. She leaned her head into the crook his shoulder, her breathing erratic and hot on his skin. He didn’t own words grand enough for expressing how he felt. So he said the next best thing as he rubbed his face across her silky crown. “Wow.”

*

Head cradled against his shoulder, her body still trembling with aftershocks, Ysabel raised her head to look at Remy. “Did you just say
wow
?”

“Yup.”

A giggle escaped her. “That’s all you have to say? What’s wrong, demon? Run out of suave lines?”

“I don’t have anything that seems appropriate.”

“So, was it everything you hoped for?” she teased. The light banter surprised her, but not willing to end the moment, she allowed it.

“Oh my little witch, it was so much better than I imagined.”

“Really?” Okay that soft, wistful query surely didn’t come from her? What did she care if he liked it or not? She was just planning to use him for sex.

“Is this your way of making me show you again? Because I am totally good with that. And this time, maybe we’ll even make it to a bed.”

She laughed. “That was kind of impatient of us. I’m sorry, I don’t usually do crazy things like that.”

“As long as you only do them for me,” he replied letting her slide down his body until she stood, clad in only her shoes.

“Why would you care? I thought your motto was fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’.”

“Maybe I’m ready for something different.”

He looked so serious that for a moment, she couldn’t stop her heart from hammering. She mentally slapped herself. What else did she expect him to say? He wanted to have sex again. Of course he wasn’t going to say that she meant nothing to him but a pussy to fuck.

“You don’t know how to be serious,” she said lightly, fighting to not let sadness enter her tone. No strings sex. It was what she wanted. Nothing else. What she couldn’t figure out was why she kept needing to remind herself?

“Oh, you’d be surprised, my sexy cougar. Now what do you say, you get your sweet cheeks up those stairs.”

“And what will you be doing?”

A leer and twinkle in his eyes made her quiver. “Why chasing you, of course, while admiring that wicked ass of yours. And imagining what I am going to do to it in a moment.”

Her usual bitchy and practical self would have sneered at his suggestion and stalked off to get some sleep so she could get to work tracking down the last two souls. But she’d spent five hundred years living in a cold, emotionless vacuum. For just one day, actually more like early morning, she wanted to let loose. Enjoy. Remember what it felt like to smile and laugh. To feel pleasure.

Bending over to grab her torn blouse and slacks first, an act that made him groan, she tossed a coy look over her shoulder before bolting up the winding staircase. She only made it to the first landing before he swept her up – to her delighted giggles – and over his shoulder, running the rest of the way to his room. And there, he showed her how much he liked her ass. Breasts. Pussy. Actually, he worshipped every part of her body, making her come so many times she ended up falling asleep, exhausted in his arms, happier that she’d ever been. Wishing it never had to end.

*

Watching her sleep in his arms humbled Remy because whether she’d admit it or not, his prickly witch trusted him. He knew she didn’t let people get close to her – and had major issues with men. But she’d overcome her dislike enough to let him into her life, to let him make love to her, and now hold her while she slumbered at her most vulnerable.

Forget denying it. Or pretending it was something else. Remy was in love, however, that knowledge brought a whole wealth of problems and emotions. He needed to protect her, not just from the souls, but those who thought to harm her, and that included Ysabel, herself. Becoming her mate would not happen easily. She would fight him tooth and nail, and with good reason. His reputation in this case would hamper his efforts.

How to make her believe him when he tried to explained he wanted her forever as his mate? How to make her understand that once he gave himself to her, he would never stray? Never hurt her?

She was more likely to lob his head off with magic before she believed him. But he had to try. And it started right now.

Easing out of bed, he dressed quietly and let himself out of the house. There was something he needed to do before she woke up.
My first step into winning her heart.
Hopefully she wouldn’t kill him when she found out.

Chapter Ten

Stretching, in a strange bed, sated and smiling, Ysabel couldn’t recall ever waking so…what the heck did she feel? Sore, in a pleasant way. Content, like the cat who ate a pet bird. In other words, happy. But more than that, her heart wanted to burst. She felt an urge to sing. Grin. And she possessed a desire to see and thank, in a naked, carnal fashion, one very special demon.

Holy freaking Satan. She was in love. How had that happened?

When did one obnoxious, foul mouthed, good looking and kind hunk manage to get under her prickly shields and ensnare her heart? She didn’t know the answer, but somehow, he’d done the impossible. He’d made her feel again. Shown her she’d not lost her capacity to love. Only one problem though. As an undisputed womanizer, their relationship was temporary.

Talk about ruining her high. Despite his declarations, his actions, even her own feelings, she knew better than to think they had a future. Hell’s number one panty dropper would never settle down with her. So what could she do?

End things now before they went any farther. Cut herself off from further pleasure at his hands – and tongue.

No. Not so quickly, not when she’d just rediscovered happiness. But the other option, heartache when he eventually moved on…how could she handle it?

There was an option. Kill him. Kill him before he broke her heart, then she could at least live with the happy memories instead of watching them get twisted with hatred as happened with her previous lover. However, that did seem a little drastic.

I’m a five hundred year old witch. Other women deal with breakups, surely I can too.
Like she had with Francisco? But in that case she had ample reason for anger given he let her burn alive. She knew Remy would never do anything like that. Despite his tough guy attitude and exterior, he wouldn’t intentionally hurt her.

It’s not his fault my stupid heart fell in love.

Or maybe she was totally misreading things. As the first male she’d had sex with in five hundred years, it didn’t automatically mean the Big L. Maybe she was just horny. Perhaps her good will toward him owed more to the fact he scratched her sexual itch.

Yeah. She could deal with that. Use him for sex until she tired of him. Given she’d gone centuries without a male between her legs, surely it wouldn’t take long to sate her new need. She’d stay in his bed and use his body. And if things ended before she’d quite managed to slake her lust, then she’d pay a visit to Francisco and his friends. Torture them a little.
That would surely raise her spirits – and remind her why men were scum.

Decided, she sat up in the ridiculously large bed and peered around. Of her big demon stud, she saw no sign. Odd because she’d felt him kiss her bare shoulder before he slipped out of bed a while back. He’d just never returned.

I suppose it’s too much to hope he’s gone to find us some coffee.
And a donut.
Don’t judge. She figured burning at the stake entitled her to the sweet treats.

Gaze roving around his room done up in a masculine grey, brown and blue with no velvet or silk sheets in sight, she caught a glimpse of a clock – a silhouette of a woman’s naked body –and gasped.

They’d slept late. Too late. Less than fifteen minutes remained before the curse hit.

“Shit! Damn! Fuck!” She cursed as she hopped out of his bed and scrambled around looking for clothes. It didn’t even occur to her to stay in his room for her fiery act. She wanted the comfort of her home, her space when it happened. She also wouldn’t have minded Remy’s arms, and that simple thought halted her frenzied actions.

The man who held me all night long, and caressed me with such passion wouldn’t leave me alone with the hour of my death approaching unless he had very good cause.
Or so she hoped. For some reason it was important to her that he not turn out to be a jerk like most males she’d encountered. But if she believed he wouldn’t leave her alone for her daily brush with fire, then where was he? Did he simply linger elsewhere in what appeared from the outside as a huge manor? If she left would she miss him as he returned to her?

Indecision didn’t sit well with her, and neither did bursting into flame in an unknown place. He’d know where to find her if he wanted to, and she was a big girl. So what if today’s torture would last one more hellish minute? Her original death lasted an eternity in her agonized mind, and yet she survived, of a sorts.