Beauty and the Beast (Demon Tales 1) (9 page)

“Damn you, Cally.” He dropped his head and
claimed her mouth in a rough show of want. She tipped her head back
and allowed him access. If she had flinched or moved away he would
have stopped…somehow, but she just allowed him. What was he
supposed to do? He swept his tongue along her lips and her sweet,
clean taste burst into his mouth. Her hand disappeared into his
shirt, and the other wrapped around his neck.

He thrust his fingers into her long hair and
gripped her fragile neck, while his other hand circled her tiny
waist. She was pliant and willing in his arms, even as her hands
stroked over his fur. She tasted of desire. Her body writhed in his
arms as he devoured her honey mouth. Her hands slid and pulled at
his fur, and Brigg could feel the ground slipping from beneath his
feet. He had lost all thought other than what Cally felt like in
his arms. She was petite and perfect. Her kisses, while clearly
much more innocent, lacked none of the hunger that he felt. He
moved his lips from her mouth and kissed his way along her face,
and when his teeth slightly scraped her jaw Cally moaned, and the
sound almost dropped him to his knees.

“Ah, Fuck. Cally, you taste amazing.” His
voice was hoarse as he tasted all the way to the pulse point in her
throat. She hummed in agreement and Brigg felt the vibrations
through his lips.

“Brigg,” she sighed. He lifted his head,
found desire in her eyes and claimed her mouth again. He walked her
backwards to the desk in the middle of the room. Cally’s legs came
into contact with the wooden desk and Brigg pressed his erection
against her. She gasped in his mouth, and he swallowed the sound.
Desire raged like a charging bull through his body. The feelings
were so potent and strong, he almost couldn’t keep track of what
was happening.

He dropped his hand and stroked up her
thigh. Her silky skin under his rough palm was so sexy,
another—stronger—bolt of heat lashed at his dick, and Brigg growled
in triumph.

Mine…

Her body burned, it sizzled, it positively
crackled like a roaring fire on a cold winter night. Brigg was in
her arms. His hungry mouth was tasting her and she had never felt
so alive. Where his mouth was rough and demanding, his hands were
gentle and seeking. He was holding her as if she were dainty and
fragile—a baby kitten in the hands of a lion—and Cally was melting
in his arms. The solid press of his erection against her leg was
amazing, so big and demanding, proof of how she made him feel. She
adjusted herself slightly so that he pushed against her core. And
when he shoved again a wave of heat, vast as a tsunami, rushed
through her body. She gasped and gripped his mane. Desperation
clawed in her mind, for something—she didn’t know what. Her whole
body shook, and the more Brigg stroked, kissed and licked at her
flesh, the tighter her muscles clenched .

“Brigg…” she sighed. He lifted his head. His
dark eyes bore into hers for a moment before he dug two hands into
her hair and claimed her mouth again. For a split second she
panicked that he might feel the fast-growing horns on her scalp,
but when he pressed against her core again more of that heat built,
until her mind emptied and her body sang.

“Fuck! Cally…” He growled into her mouth.
One of his hands slid along her side and he lifted her shirt from
the bottom. He paused just as his fingers would burrow into her
panties, and Cally felt his reluctance.

“Don’t stop! Please, Brigg. I am so—I
need…something.” She had no idea what she needed, she just knew
that it had to be now. His breathing stopped as he laid his
forehead against her shoulder.

“Cally. Be sure.” His deep voice rumbled
across her skin.

“I am sure, Brigg.” The moment she uttered
the words, Brigg spat out a foul curse, he lifted his head again
and claimed her mouth roughly. Cally opened her legs wider and
welcomed his seeking hand.

The moment his blunt fingers dipped into her
wet heat, Cally stopped breathing. Her whole body coiled tight and
her mind closed in on just the feelings—the wonderful feelings—that
his hand produced. Slowly, he slid his fingers through her damp
lips and parted her sex. He brushed his thumb over her clit, and
Cally groaned as fireworks sparkled inside her. She went up onto
her tip-toes, gripped his shoulders and dropped her head back.
Brigg growled and licked up the column of her neck.

He pressed one finger inside her core and
her legs gave out. Brigg held her up effortlessly and continued his
wonderful work.

“Ah, fuck. Cally, so hot, so tight...” He
ground his hard erection against her leg, and Cally realized that
he was just as needy as she was. She wanted to help him, as he was
helping her, so she dropped her hand and rubbed her flat palm over
his bulging cock.

He growled and tipped his head back.
“Christ, Cally!” His finger slid from inside her channel and Cally
almost whimpered with the loss. But when he pushed two fingers
inside, her whole vision fogged over. Tight, hot—full. Her body was
a bomb ready to burst. She groaned and wriggled under his hand.
When his palm flattened against her clit, those sparkling fireworks
exploded and rocketed through her body.

Cally cried out, and Brigg swallowed the
sound with another demanding kiss. Tremors rippled up and over her
body, and after a few moments—a lifetime—she floated back to
earth.

“Oh… My god, Brigg…” She panted against his
chest. The soft cotton of his shirt tickled her cheek. He stood
tall, still holding her up, and Cally could feel the heavy, solid
weight of his erection pressed against her hand. She rubbed with
her palm and elicited a groan from her big demon. The hand in her
hair tightened and a sweet pinch of pleasure-pain sparkled in her
blood again.

“Brigg? What the fuck, man?” a loud crash of
sound cracked like a whip in the air, Brigg spun and placed himself
in front of Cally. His large back obscured her view, but when he
spoke, dread coated her veins.

“Torc? Get the fuck out!” Brigg roared into
the air and Cally shrunk away. He pinned her to the desk, his arms
out to the side, clearly shielding her from view. His chest rose
and fell with heavy breaths. Cally rested her hand on his back and
hoped he would calm down. He gave off a dangerous vibe that cooled
her desire and left her frightened.

But wasn’t Torc his brother?

A deep, mocking laugh rumbled into the air.
The sound was cold and heartless.

“A human, Brigg? Are you that fucking
desperate?”

Cally felt all of Briggs muscles turn hard
under her hand. With her palm flat on his back, she could feel the
tension building. A deep rumbling growl worked its way up his back
until the threatening sound filled the tense silence.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out!” Lethal promise sat in
his words. Cally swallowed and tried to slip out from behind him.
Brigg placed a hard hand on her arm, and that cold laugh from Torc
boomed into the library again.

His brother is mocking him for being with
me.

Brigg launched forward, leaving Cally half
sitting, half falling from the edge of the desk. She watched wide
eyed, as Brigg threw a meaty punch at the other demon. Sound boomed
through the room. Harsh grunts of noise sliced the air and Cally
could do nothing but stare aghast, at the pair of massive hairy
demons as they fought in the beautiful library.

Books tumbled when Brigg lifted Torc and
threw him at the shelves. Glass-topped coffee tables split and
crashed under the weight of books and bodies. She screamed when the
pair fell onto the floor. Amid fists flying and demons rolling,
Cally scooted into the far corner of the room. She snatched up the
book she had been reading when Brigg had come in, and clutched it
to her chest like a life-line.

As she watched the demons fight, she
realized that Brigg was coming off better. The lighter brown demon,
Torc, had blood pulsing from his nose. Cold relief flooded her
veins even as she squeaked with terror. She looked for a possible
place to escape, but the demons were fighting in front of the only
door to the room. Suddenly aware of how she must look, Cally tugged
the bottom of her T-shirt with a shaky hand. Her body was no longer
hot and needy, now she felt cold and ashamed.

How much did his brother see? Hear?

Sam came rushing into the room with two of
his staff, both Ram Demons. They fell onto Torc and Brigg and
dragged them apart, though it cost them a struggle. Sam spotted
Cally in the corner and made his way to her, ignoring the mess the
two brothers had created. He creased a concerned brow.

“Are you okay, Princess?” he asked, as he
took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Cally could
barely tear her eyes from Brigg and his brother. But when Brigg
turned, Cally saw that he was no longer the kind, gentle creature
who had just stroked her to her first orgasm. This was a fierce
animal—a horror story. Brigg stopped fighting and watched as Sam
led her from the room. His dark gaze tracked her every movement,
and although a shiver of fear trickled down her spine, she still
felt the need to check on his injuries.

Just as she reached the library door, Brigg
took a step towards her. A heavy flight of butterflies took off in
her stomach and Cally sucked in a breath.

Did she want him near her in that mood?

His brother lurched forward and took hold of
Brigg’s arm, and Brigg stopped moving. Cally flicked her eyes over
to the lighter coloured demon and shivered under the cold, hard,
expression of pure hate. Brigg’s brother watched her, his lip
curled, and he bared his teeth.

“Disgusting human,” he hissed coldly. Brigg
whirled and punched him in the face. The two guards pounced on them
again. Sam dragged Cally from the room even before a gasp could
leave her mouth.

“Time to get you on your way home, little
Princess,” the Ram Demon said, as he flicked his fingers for one of
his staff to follow.

Home? No!
With all that had happened
in the last half an hour, Cally’s head spun. She barely had the
time to think before she had been bundled into her room and dumped
in a bath.

But her mind screamed against the knowledge
that Sam was going to make sure she got home—today.

Brigg sat in the big leather chair and
dropped his head into his hands.

“I mean, what the fuck, Brigg?” Torc spoke
with a cutting tone that made shame fill his mind.

What had he been doing? Jesus!
He was
moments from fucking Cally on that desk. Moments from taking her
like the beast he was. He closed his eyes and immediately regretted
it, as images of Cally’s blushed face and desire-filled eyes
swarmed his thoughts. With a growl he stood up and stormed to the
window. The sun had begun to come up since Torc had arrived. Cally
had long left the library. Sam had made sure that one of his staff
had herded her past him and Torc. She had looked terrified, totally
shocked. Her wide eyed stare and tear-filled gaze would be branded
to his soul forever.

“I don’t know what happened, Torc.”
Other
than desire, and a complete lack of control. “
It won’t happen
again.” The words burned, his mind raged, but Brigg knew that it
wouldn’t—couldn’t –happen again.
She is a human, for fuck’s
sake!

“Is she a witch, like her mother?” Torc
asked as he bent and picked up a book that had been displaced by
their fighting.

“Why the fuck would you say that?” Brigg
rounded and glared at his brother. Torc held up his hand and
shrugged.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re
acting so strange. It’s like she has you under some kind of spell,
a hex.”

Brigg frowned and shook his head. “She’s not
like her mother.” But why did he not feel convinced? The whole time
she had been with him, he had felt that there was something she was
keeping to herself—a secret. The idea of being under a spell made
sense. He had never acted this way before, so out of control. And
she was human, so he shouldn’t desire her. He looked up at Torc and
rage punched his gut.

“Maybe she has.” Even as he said the words
they didn’t feel right. But it was the only explanation that made
sense…wasn’t it?

* * * *

Cally stepped out of the shower and wrapped
herself in a fluffy towel. Her eyes stung from crying, and her head
pounded with pressure.

He‘s sending me home…now.

The full weight of that knowledge sat on her
shoulders, and it felt as if her back bowed under the strain. The
idea of returning home, to the castle where her mother lived, was
terrifying—let alone the sure knowledge that she would be married
off to some horrid stranger. Cally was broken, heartsick, and
feeling more alone than ever.

She stared into the mirror and felt a jolt
of surprise. On the top of her head, she could see the tips of her
horns poking through her dark hair. Excitement fizzled through her
bloodstream and dulled the fear. She leaned closer and raised her
hand to touch them. She had never seen her horns before, they had
been filed since she was a baby, painfully and cruelly rasped from
sight. Cally shivered when the memory—of how the raw nerve ends
burned when they were freshly rasped—filled her mind. When she was
a child, she used to scream, cry and shiver with the pain—sometimes
she was made sick by the savage agony. As an adult she held it all
in, aware that her mother liked to watch her suffer. She wasn’t
sure she could go through that anymore, not now, when she had
tasted freedom.

Cally stood back and looked at her
reflection. Her wavy dark hair hung wet and limp, and her newly
growing horns peeked through the dark strands. They were black,
small and…pretty. They looked right, as if she had always been
missing something. Cally raised her hand and touched one of them.
Tears stung her eyes—her very own horns. If she was made to go
back, she would lose them again. And this time, with them, she was
sure her sanity would go too.