Page 93
Story: Demon's Bride
She opens her mouth to protest again, but I have no intention of letting her.
“I won’t be moved on this, Allison Ashblood. It’s non-negotiable.”
Allie—frustrated, tired, beautiful—looks utterly mutinous for just a moment more before all that irritation breaks into a wry smile. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen anything so satisfying.
“And what would all of this ‘picking up’ include?”
Deciding to go with the most literal interpretation, I swing her into my arms. She doesn’t protest, does nothing but melt into me with a small sigh, and something inside of me roars in triumph.
Stepping sideways through a quickly summoned portal, Allie clutches tighter to me, but there’s not even the slightest pulse of fear from her when she lays her cheek against my chest, trusting in me to see us safely where we’re going.
A moment later, we’re back in our chambers inside the mountain keep. The all-clear came earlier this morning that the mountain is in no danger of collapse, and I’m more than a little relieved to be back. Having her here, in our home, soothes some need inside me I can’t put words to.
Even better is having her tucked beside me in bed a short time later. We’ve both washed up, dried off, and curled up naked beneath the thick blankets and furs. She’s laying sprawled out on my chest, hand running idle lines over my skin.
“It hasn’t even been four days,” she says softly. “How is it possible that it feels like I’ve lived a lifetime in less than four days?”
Something about the question pierces me. How different her life has become these past few days. Mine has as well, but compared to the changes she’s had to navigate…
Feeling suddenly like the useless mate I am, I squeeze her tight.
“You must be exhausted,” I say teasingly. “Having lived this lifetime.”
She stretches and groans. “I am, and I think you mentioned something about putting all my pieces back together?”
Inspiration strikes, and, ignoring her protests, I throw back the covers and scoot out from under her.
“Wait here.”
Face down on the mattress a half hour later, letting me tend to her, Allie looks so impossibly beautiful. All smooth skin, gleaming with the oil I’ve rubbed into her tantalizing, lush curves.
I lean down and run my tongue along the groove of her spine, oil be damned. She moans and arches into the caress, but I still her with a hand in the center of her back.
“No,” I tell her with gentle command. “You need rest. Behave and stay still for me.”
Her mumbled protest is lost in the pillow, but she complies.
I love it when she surrenders to me. Almost as much as I love it when she fights.
Continuing downwards, I run my lips over the divot just above her buttocks, pausing there for a moment before moving lower still. Allie makes a sound that’s half-laugh, half-groan when I press a kiss onto one side of her ass. She squirms and I swat her. A gentle tap, but a firm warming.
“Be still,” I chide, letting a fang press into her tender skin.
Moving her just the way I want, I spread her thighs and settle myself on my stomach between them. Hooking both forearms into the notches where the swell of her thighs meets her belly, I pull her up and back, directly into my eager mouth.
Allie cries out when I sink my tongue into her from behind.
“That’s it,” I murmur into her core as I lave lazily up fast-dampening flesh.
My tongue delves inside, lapping at every bit of her sweet heat. I want to devour her, feast on her for days, let her scent and her taste imprint themselves into my skin and bones and soul.
When she cries out a few minutes later, arches and presses even harder into me, I tend to her through every breaking wave of pleasure, drawing it out until she’s limp and boneless on the sheets. After she subsides, I rise from behind her, kissing my way from her dripping core up over the sweet swell of her ass. My lips trace a line all the way up her spine, nipping at the nape of her neck. She squeaks at the sharp sensation and I chuckle as I roll off of her.
I mean for that to be it, to let her rest and sleep in sated bliss, but as I settle myself against the pillows she rises and moves with me. Climbing into my lap, her legs drape over my hips and her slick cunt presses to my erection.
A small pang of guilt runs through me. This was supposed to be for her—her comfort, her relaxation. It seems selfish to seek my own pleasure when she’s probably exhausted after everything she went through today.
Allie, like she can read my thoughts, just shoots me a small, wicked smile. She notches me right at her entrance, and with firm, deliberate slowness, she takes her time working me into her. When I’m pressed into her knot-deep, she pauses for a moment, rotates her hips, works herself against the swell of flesh nudging insistently at her entrance.
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