Page 10 of Inferno (Drake Security Book 4)

VALENTINO

It’s that fucking nickname on Montrose’s lips that ignites a fresh wave of rage in my veins. I have no fucking clue what parts of this whole mess he’s telling the truth about, and which are more lies. Where does the deceitful demon game end and reality begin? It’s impossible to know, and that just makes my skin burn hotter with fury and embarrassment. Whether he meant to or not, he led me around by my dick, and then when I was too orgasm drunk to do a damn thing about it, he stole the ring back and poofed into fucking nothing.

He used me.

I stand up, dragging Montrose along with me by his hair. My cock throbs in time with my thundering heartbeat, and I can still taste a mixture of smoke and sweet, addictive incubus pheromones on my tongue. He gasps and scrambles after me, his silky red hair knotted around my fingers and bunched in my fist. The wounded sound gives me a half second of pause as my dragon thrashes in protest.

Montrose crashes to his knees on the wood floor and looks up at me through the curtains of his hair cascading over his face. His eyes are shining… glowing, and his lips are parted on a panting breath. It’s not pain etched into his expression, at least not primarily. No, this is lust.

He wants me to hurt him. He wants me to use him. I don’t know how I’m so sure, but I know it the same way I know my mother tongue—like it’s imprinted inside of me where the knowledge can’t be shaken off. My dragon knows it too, or he would fight me on this the same way he fought me when I tried to attack Montrose in the entryway. He’s decided that no one can hurt this demon, not even me. And I’m nowhere near ready to unpack what that means.

No, right now, I’m going to give Montrose exactly what he wants. I’m going to use him the same way he used me. An eye for an eye.

My gaze wanders down his body, bared for me with his slinky black outfit discarded in a pile on the couch. Glistening streaks of my precum mark his skin, and the beast inside me rears up with a few suggestions of other ways to mark the demon.

Bite marks decorating his pretty, pale throat.

My name scorched like a brand across his perky ass cheeks.

My scent entwined with his so no one else dares to ever go near him again.

I growl under my breath. I don’t want to mark him. I don’t. If anything, I want to stamp him with a warning to whichever poor fucking idiot he decides to seduce next.

Montrose’s eyelids droop and he drags his tongue over his lips suggestively. His human glamour is still mostly in place, with hints of his demon breaking the surface, making him look feral and dangerous. But his tongue is anything but human right now. It’s long and bright red, dripping with saliva.

I huff, fisting my cock with my free hand and yanking Montrose closer, refusing to be gentle with him, refusing to make him feel anything other than filthy. Of course, that plan might work better if he weren’t a demon. He lets out a deep, needy moan, his eyelids fluttering and his mouth falling open.

“I fucking hate you,” I hiss through clenched teeth. Am I trying to remind him or myself? I have no clue.

Montrose just nods and makes a soothing sound in his throat, like he’s telling me it’s okay to hate him, like maybe he even understands my hatred. He’s not supposed to understand. I roar with frustration, and he makes another pacifying sound that I cut off by shoving my throbbing cock between his lips.

Mother of fire, his mouth is a fucking inferno. His tongue is dripping wet and scorching hot, stroking the underside of my shaft as I slam into his mouth as roughly as I can manage. He doesn’t gag or squirm or protest, he just relaxes his throat, his moans vibrating through my cock as he swallows me down.

He runs his hands up my thighs, dragging his sharp talons along my skin just enough to sting. My cock thickens between his lips, and any sliver of control that I was hanging on to suddenly snaps. I grab his head in both hands and fuck his throat with wild abandon, snapping my hips forward with rough, demanding thrusts.

Montrose’s eyes roll back, and he cants his own hips. His stiff cock slaps against his belly, streaking his skin with even more precum, but he doesn’t reach for it. He moves his hands around to my ass, digging his claws into my cheeks hard enough that I can feel a trickle of warm blood and the sharp burn of tiny cuts that will be healed before I even catch my breath. Tears tumble down his cheeks, but he holds my gaze with a hazy, horny look in his half-shifted eyes.

With no other ways I can think of to break him the way he broke me, I grit my teeth and reach for memories of other men I’ve fucked, knowing he’ll feel them. My thoughts are a blur of flesh, moans, mindless lust, and orgasms fucked, sucked, and greedily coaxed from thousands of different faceless men over as many years. I bare my teeth at Montrose in cocky satisfaction, but his body trembles and his eyes roll back.

He makes even hungrier sounds around my cock, sucking me harder and faster, like this was his idea rather than a punishment I was trying to inflict on him for bruising my ego and just fucking leaving the way he did.

His long demon tongue snakes all the way around my shaft, reminding me of the way his tentacles stroked me the last time we were together. Tugging, jerking, fluttering with the tiniest pulse at every stroke. My knees buckle and my fingers tighten in his hair. I throw my head back and let out an inhuman roar, loud enough to rattle the windows and the chandelier overhead.

My cum floods his throat as waves of pleasure crash over me. Montrose convulses and moans sloppily, gulping down every last drop I feed him until I use my grip to yank him off my spent, softening cock.

His chin glistens with saliva and a few stray droplets of my cum. In spite of the way he moaned and writhed, his cock is still hard and shiny at the tip, unsatisfied.

I grunt with petty delight.

“Put your clothes back on.”

Montrose blinks slowly, his chest heaving with ragged breaths and his skin flushed. His eyes flash with irritation.

“You plan to leave me in this state as punishment for bruising your fragile ego, dragon?” His voice is gravelly and raw from my cock. My skin ripples with gratification that I made him sound so utterly wrecked.

“Seems fair, all things considered.” I huff, grabbing his bodysuit off the couch and shoving it at him.

He stays on his knees for several long seconds, indecision dancing over his face before he snatches his outfit out of my hand and gets to his feet. I grunt again and turn to walk away from him. Everything inside of me is tense and aching with the urge to pull the demon into my arms and soothe him, make him cum, promise him things he doesn’t deserve after what he did.

I shake my head sharply. Maybe I should ask Dahlia if she has any spells or potions to combat these damned incubus pheromones.

MONTROSE

My cock is throbbing angrily,but I can’t say I blame Valentino. Satan knows the only thing bigger than a dragon’s hoard is his ego, and I bruised his. If swallowing his massive cock and a bit of forced edging is the worst he can come up with as punishment, I might just be tempted to piss him off a little more.

I grin wickedly, pulling my tight outfit back on. There’s nothing to be done about hiding my erection, and I have no reason to bother—not when I know Tino’s eyes will be drawn to it. I can feel a little tug at the binding between us. I narrow my eyes at the reminder of my imprisonment. If my jailor were anyone other than Valentino, killing him to free myself would be the first item on my agenda. I suppose that’s exactly why his family volunteered him for the job. Maybe these fire breathing beasts are smarter than I gave them credit for.

I drag my fingers through my hair to tame the tangled mess the grabby dragon created and turn on my heel to follow the pull of the invisible leash. I glance around the large entryway on my way through it. Like the other room, the decorating style is primarily Parisian. I notice some scorch marks on the marble floor near the staircase, and I wonder again about Valentino’s reaction to my… unexpected departure the last time.

If the delicious memories he fed me while he fucked my mouth are anything to go by, this dragon is far from a romantic. He doesn’t fuck for love, he does it to satisfy his baser desires. He does it because he likes to indulge in the flesh. He wasn’t upset that I left. He’s pissed off that he feels played.

I sweep into the kitchen with a little sway to my hips and as much confidence as I can manage with the slight rasp still in my throat and the taste of his smoky cum still on my lips… and his hurt feelings on my conscience. I didn’t even know I had a conscience.

I huff to myself. In-fucking-convenient if you ask me.

Valentino is leaning against the large center island, his t-shirt straining over his bulging biceps as he looks at his phone.

“I’m ordering some pizzas,” he says gruffly, his stomach rumbling immediately to punctuate his announcement.

“Yum. No mushrooms, please.” I hop up onto the stool in front of the island counter and cross my legs.

“Ten pizzas, all with extra mushrooms,” he mutters, pressing a few buttons then shoving his phone into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Wow, you’re being a real dick.” I sniff, and his eyebrows fly up.

“Really? You want to play that game?” Valentino says, and I straighten up in my seat with a grin spreading over my lips.

“I’ll play any game you want.”

He makes a sound in his throat and takes a small step farther away from me.

“How about we play the game where you start telling me the shit I need to know.”

“Fair enough. What do you want to know?” I feel like we’re going around in circles here, but if he wants to hear it all again, I’m happy to tell him. Maybe if I say it all enough, he’ll start to believe me.

“I should have asked before I let Dahlia do her witchy thing, but what exactly does this binding entail?” he asks.

“Think of me like your little puppy,” I tease, ignoring the flare of irritation in my veins at the reminder of being leashed. “My powers are slightly dulled, and I can’t move between realms without taking you with me. On this plane, if we’re more than a few feet apart, I’ll feel a physical tug that will only get worse the more distance is between us and will slowly drain my powers until I’m completely useless or I get back within range of you.”

“Does it hurt?” A momentary flash of concern flits through his eyes before he turns his head away from me, like he’s hoping I won’t notice it.

“No, it doesn’t hurt. Not physically, anyway. It’s… humiliating for a demon to be bound though,” I admit through clenched teeth.

Valentino grunts in acknowledgment.

“Just tell me the truth,” he says, his voice strained as he meets my eyes again. “Did you track me down or somehow compel me to that club the first night so you could seduce me and get to Mac?”

I slip off the stool and take a step closer to him, leaving an inch of space still between us.

“How much do you know about demons?” I ask.

Tino’s nostrils flare. “Enough. Why?”

“Your little human pet was right earlier. We’re closer to fae than to any species that evolved in your realm. And, like the fae, we’re bound by words, deals, promises.” I shouldn’t be telling him any of this. These are closely guarded demon secrets that aren’t for dragons to know. But I can’t keep the words from tumbling past my lips. His eyes search mine curiously. “If we swear by something it can only be the truth. If we make a vow, we’re bound to it.”

“Just answer my question, Montrose,” he growls.

I take another step closer and bring my hand up to cup his cheek. He tenses but doesn’t move to push me away.

“I didn’t track you or compel you to that club. I didn’t seek you out in any way, and I didn’t intend to use you to get to Mac. I swear.” I can feel the powerful sizzle of the word on my tongue, sealing everything I just uttered with the weight of the promise. “If any of what I uttered had been a lie, my tongue would have shriveled.” I stick my tongue out to show him that it’s perfectly intact.

Valentino stares me down for another few seconds, then nods sharply.

Silence stretches between us for a few seconds. When he doesn’t ask me another question, I decide to make a request of my own.

“If I’m going to be staying here, I’ll need some things from my apartment.”

He snorts. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Why not? You can’t expect me to wear nothing but this.” I gesture at my outfit. His eyes track over my body in a lingering assessment. “And, I’ll have you know, it takes special product to get my hair this soft and shiny. I can’t just use any old off-the-shelf shampoo.”

He gives me a flat look. “And for all I know, you could have traps set at your apartment to kill me and break this binding thing. Or this Maggard character could be lying in wait there. If he even exists.”

I narrow my eyes at Valentino and close the distance between us in a fraction of a second, boxing him in against the counter and letting a little more of my demon side flicker below the surface so he can just start to see it through my human glamour.

“He’s very real, deliciae. And I wasn’t exaggerating about what he plans to do to your brother when he gets his hands on him. He’ll pluck Mac’s scales out one by one, wait for them to grow back, and do it all over again. He’ll put an unbreakable leash around his neck to lead him around our realm and keep him for his pet. And if he finds any of you trying to protect the little thief, he’ll burn your entire clan to the ground and me along with you.”

My voice gets deeper and more demonic with every syllable I utter, and Valentino’s eyes widen little by little.

“We’re not afraid of him.” His voice rumbles from his chest, just as inhuman as mine.

I lean in a little closer, brushing my lips against his to taste the heat of the flames building on them.

“You should be.”