My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding (11 page)

He was hot and hard against my core. I drew a long, desperate groan from him as I rubbed my slit over his cock, drenching him in my juices.
 

“Now,” he said, pressing the tip of himself against me.

“Not yet,” I said, sliding down again, torturing us both. But it was so good, so right, and even though we were on the knife’s edge, I was greedy. I wanted more time, more kisses—as if kisses and touches and need alone could show this man what he meant to me.

His breath was ragged as he rolled me onto my back, found the tender spot at the nape of my neck. “Jesus, Lizzie, I need you so badly.”

Hades, I needed him like I needed my next breath.

I dug my fingers into his hips as his cock shifted, sliding against the full wet center of me. We both groaned as he entered me hard.

God, he felt amazing. Even better when he drew my legs up and pumped his lean hips in a slow, steady rhythm that had me squirming against him.
 

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” he said, with every hard thrust of his cock.

“I love you too,” I whispered, trying to find my voice. I’d never loved anyone like I loved him.
 

He felt incredible inside me, over me, against me, as his body twined with mine. I felt every move, every touch tenfold. And I knew this was what it was like to be truly connected with someone. To be one.

His kisses were hot against my sweat slickened body. I opened myself to him fully—now and forever.

I gasped as his thrusts sped up, lost their careful rhythm. I ground against him, licked his salty shoulder, bit it as the pressure built, the pleasure mounted and bliss spiked through me.

His control broke. He drove hard and wild against me as I clung to him, coming harder, spiraling higher. Savoring every last tongue of fire that lashed through me, knowing that this is where I belonged.

A little while later, Dimitri let out a satisfied sigh as I snuggled against his chest. “I think we trounced our clothes,” I told him.

He snorted. “Griffins like to be naked.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I ran a finger along his arm, watched in satisfaction as the muscle flexed.
 

The man had a point. I didn’t need clothes. I didn’t need anything. Except for him.

He touched my cheek and looked down at me with such love it nearly tore me to pieces. “Thanks for guiding me in.”

“Anytime, hot stuff,” I said, reaching up for a kiss.

I was about ready for round two when…

“Lizzie?” A rusty voice echoed through the fog.

My lips tingled as they missed his mouth and grazed the stubble on his chin.

It was Grandma.

“We heard you screaming, baby,” my mom said, out of breath. “We’re coming!”
 

Oh my God. I bolted upright.

Chapter Ten

It sounded like an army tromping down the path. Lights cut through the fog. They were coming. Fast.

Dimitri and I rocketed to our feet. “Where are my clothes?” I hissed. Everything was dark and foggy and so not the way I’d planned this.

He tossed my dress at me, and it hit me square in the chest. It was like my arms weren’t working anymore. I couldn’t think. Except that this was becoming very mortifying very fast.

Pirate, barking like a fiend, headed straight for us.
 

“Lizzie!” He broke through the fog, misjudged the distance and slammed right into my shin. He bounced off, spun around and danced a circle. “Lizzie, you’re alive!”

“Yes. Of course.
Pirate
,” I pleaded. It wasn’t like I’d set off to slay a demon.

My dog looked up at me, earnest. “You yelled, and then Dimitri started hollering. You sounded like you were being eaten alive.”

In a manner of speaking.

“Don’t worry. I called in the troops,” my dog said, gleefully.

I glanced to Dimitri, who was barely in his pants. Hades, he had a nice ass. “What did you do with your shirt?” I asked him.

“Didn’t bother putting it on,” he said, as we both realized that I’d torn his top pants button right off.
 

He laughed, which made me snort. He knew I was a goner then. He reached for me, kissing me silly.
 

In fact, I was about to forget what was wrong in the first place—when my mom let out a huge gasp.
 

“Lizzie Brown! I thought you’d been murdered!”
 

At least Frieda, standing behind her, had the courtesy to cringe. “Noise travels in the fog.”

Now they tell me.
 

“Hells bells.” I touched my forehead against Dimitri’s chest and wished that they would all go away.

He wrapped a protective hand around my waist. “She was guiding me in,” he said, as if he wasn’t standing there half naked with his top button torn and as if I hadn’t—Lord help me—put my dress on inside out.
 

And were those my panties lying on the path at our feet? Yep. I was pretty sure they were.

I ventured a glance. The biker witches grinned.
 

My mom did not. “You were
screaming
,” she said, slowly piecing it together.

Pirate circled around my feet. “You know what, come to think of it, she doesn’t yell a lot when she fights. Let’s see, there were the demons from Las Vegas, the demons from hell, the demons from—”

“Pirate,” I snapped. “Stop trying to make this better.”
 

At least Hillary couldn’t understand him.
 

Still, let’s face it, everybody knew what was up and I didn’t like how they were all standing around staring at us. There was no way to exit this gracefully—not that I should have to—Dimitri was my fiancé for heaven’s sake.

If anything, they should be apologizing to me.

Not that I was going to hold my breath.

“Let’s go,” Dimitri said, leading me away from the scene of the crime, effectively giving up on his shirt, my shoes, my underwear, his… You know what? I didn’t want to go looking for it in the fog.
 

Hillary was going to think I was some kind of wild child when all I’d wanted was a half-hour alone with my fiancé.

Why did I even care what she thought?

Because she was my mother.

Frieda and Creely made a break in the line for us and we headed for the house.
 

Dimitri, smart man that he was, had rescued my light. He flipped it on to guide our way. He wrapped his other arm around my waist. “You okay?”

“For now.” I couldn’t guarantee anything once my mom got a hold of me.
 

The fog hadn’t let up a bit. Still, we definitely knew the direction the search party had taken from the house. “I notice none of your relatives barged out after us,” I said. The Greeks must be lovers, not fighters.

He glanced down at me. “They’re here? Good.” He let out a huff. “I asked my sisters for help with some clan business.”

“Well, they certainly brought the clan.”
 

His flashlight beam jerked. “What do you mean?” he asked.
 

He’d find out soon enough.

“When are we ever going to be alone?” I asked him under my breath, very aware of the parade behind us.

He gave me a slight squeeze. “Think of the honeymoon.”

Yes, the surprise honeymoon. Dimitri had refused to tell me where we were going, only that it would blow my mind.

Frankly, that could mean anywhere, as long as Dimitri was with me. But right now, I needed some good news, or at least a goal to get me through to the wedding. “Tell me where.”

He turned to me in surprise. “You really want to know?”
 

Yes. No. “Maybe.” I could cling to the fact that going somewhere magical with this man. “Give me a hint,” I said as he led me around the sage plants and up the back porch steps.

He drew a hand down my arm, leaving goose bumps in his wake. “Far, far away,” he said, glancing back at the witches breaking through the fog.

He nuzzled my cheek. “Soft beds. Ocean views. Me naked.”

“With a rose between your teeth?”

“That can be arranged.”

I gave him a soft kiss on the shoulder.
 

Hillary cleared her throat. That’s when I noticed she’d bypassed our little tête-à-tête and was holding the back door open for us. Dang. I could use her as a super spy demon scout—if she knew I was a slayer.

“Remember you are rooming separately until the wedding,” she said to Dimitri. Probably to me as well.

He stiffened, and for a moment, I thought I was about to have another battle on my hands. I squeezed his shoulder and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Let it go.”
 

His gaze was hard, his jaw granite. Hell, he was probably grinding his teeth. But he held back. For me.

“Thank you,” I wound my fingers with his as we entered the kitchen.

“You’re welcome,” Hillary replied behind us.
 

It was just as well.
 

He escorted me up to our rooms. I needed another shower. And to snuggle with him.

He ducked his head and gave me a long, slow kiss, then pulled back with a mock stern expression on his face. “Think honeymoon,” he said, before he turned away, the muscles in his broad back flexing as he headed across the hall.

***

I retreated to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. Afterward, I rubbed on some jasmine scented lotion and slipped into a sexy silk nightgown.

When I closed the bathroom door behind me, Pirate was curled up on the bed. He stood when he saw me. “Oh, no. You’re going to kick me out, and I’m going to have to sleep on the sofa again. Or the floor. I hate the floor.”

“Relax,” I said, running my fingers through my freshly washed and combed hair. “It’s only us tonight.”

“For real?” He asked, leaping over the comforter he’d bunched up on the bed. “Because as your dog, I have to tell you I expect equal attention. Remember how we used to lay in bed all night, reading books and eating popcorn? We could do that.” I sat next to him on the bed, and he immediately rolled onto his back. “Or how about we lay in bed and you rub my belly and tell me stories about your day?” I scratched the soft fur on his stomach, and he gave a happy wriggle. “Oh yeah. That’s the ticket. Oh, Lizzie, I needed this.”

He’d started to kick his back leg in tune with my scratches when there was a knock at the door.
 

Pirate flipped over onto his feet. “Aw hell.”

“It might not be Dimitri,” I told him, secretly hoping it was. My body screamed for round two. I was certainly ready.

“Um hum,” my dog said. “See? No matter how loyal I am, this is what happens.”

But I was hardly listening. My gorgeous, wonderful, adventurous man was going to get us caught. Again.

“Couldn’t resist, could you?” I asked, opening the door.
 

But instead of my dream man, I found a very unhappy Hillary.

She’d changed into her version of loungewear—a matching velour outfit with some kind of a designer label on the sleeve.
 

“I’d like to see you downstairs, please,” she said, her voice clipped, her fingers white on her clipboard.

“Can it wait?” I asked. I was all for planning emergencies, but not at eleven o’clock at night. Besides, I’d somehow managed to hold on to a nice, post-nookie mood. I didn’t need to hear about placemats from a woman who was obviously annoyed with me.

“Now,” she said, in a tone she hadn’t used since I was a teenager.

I held back a sigh. She was lucky she was my mother.

Pirate turned in a circle and settled back in while I found my matching silk robe. “I’ll keep the bed warm for you.”

“You’re a good dog,” I said, closing the door behind me and following my mom down to the kitchen.
 

Lo and behold, the biker witches had turned in early. The Greeks, too. At least I’d be close behind. Hillary was not a night person. I went straight for the pantry by the refrigerator, thinking I might get some crackers. Or maybe Hillary had ice cream—when she turned on me.

“I can’t believe you were outside—naked—sleeping with Dimitri!”

Oh, God. Just like that, I lost my appetite. I turned to face her.
 

Her cheeks were flushed, her expression hard.
 

“Okay.” We might as well lay it out on the table. “I’m an adult. He’s my fiancé, and we were
supposed
to be alone.”

I was thirty years old, for goodness sake, old enough to be able to have a private moment, or three.

Hillary gripped her clipboard. “I have five days worth of parties and after parties,” she said, pounding her finger against her finely tuned, color-coded notes. “I have ribbons that match napkins that match plates. I am killing myself. For you. To give
you
the perfect wedding. And what do you do? You sneak off and do vulgar things in my garden!”

Because I’d asked for artisan placemats, bonbon making parties and a three-ring circus. “This isn’t about me.” None of it was. “This is about you getting ready for your country club friends.”

She wasn’t even insulted. “How are you going to come back to Atlanta and live a good life if you
don’t
impress these people?”

“Newsflash mom. I’m not going back!”

She looked like I’d slapped her. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Yes, you’re in love, but Atlanta is your home.” All the color drained from her face. “You’d better not do something insane, like move to Greece. Is he putting these notions into your head?
 

Like I didn’t have a thought of my own. “Maybe if you got to know him, instead of picking fights with him, you’d realize he’s not like that.”
 

She snorted. “It’s hard to talk to him when you always have a hand down the front of his pants.”

“That’s not fair,” I snapped.

“You want to know what’s not fair?” I’d never seen Hillary snarl. But she quickly hid it. She took one deep breath, then another. She set her clipboard down on the kitchen island behind her, held up her hands like I was the one attacking her. “I tried so hard to have a baby,” she said evenly, controlled. “When I adopted you, all my dreams came true. I simply wanted to give you a good life, to have a perfect daughter. And you fight me at every turn.”