Page 6 of My Bounty Hunter is a Demon (Demons for Hire)

6

ASPEN

Steam kissed my skin as I stepped out of the shower and dried off. Using magic, I conjured clothes to form around me. I went with a pair of black leggings and an oversized t-shirt, simple but comfortable enough to move in.

Dorian’s scent hit me full force when I stepped out of the guest bathroom. I made my way down the hall to the stairs. The house seemed to envelop me as I walked through it, filled with warmth.

Now that I wasn’t fighting for my life and the life of those kids, the bond no longer made me want to run away. I wandered through rooms of the. Each room felt rich, alive, brimming with evidence of the person Dorian was.

Dorian’s scent wrapped around me, calling me further into the house, and I followed. It guided me from hallway to room and downstairs to explore some more. Okay, so I was snooping. But Dorian was my mate. I paused and closed my eyes, finding the faint bond that connected us. It wasn’t complete yet. I wasn’t sure I wanted to jump all in just yet. I’d like to get to know him and enjoy him. I snorted at that idea. Like it mattered when we completed the bond. It wasn’t going away. Like ever.

The aroma of something rich and sizzling led me to the kitchen, where I froze into place, staring at my mate. Dorian was shirtless and cooking. A slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I took it in, trying to make sense of this new reality, this comfort that tasted almost too good to be true. It settled over me like something precious, something unexpected.

“You cook?” I asked, half-mocking but intrigued.

His smile widened as he flipped something into the pan. “What, you think all witches live off herbs and moon water?”

The unexpectedness of it all wound me tighter, made me long for things I never thought I’d want. I shrugged, trying to mask my wonder with sarcasm. “Didn’t figure you had time for home-cooked meals between infiltrating cults and running for your life.”

He looked at me then, and I almost buckled under the intensity. His gaze heated every inch of me, inside and out. “Everyone needs a hobby.”

He plated the food and motioned to the table. “Sit. Eat first. Interrogate me later.”

I sat at the table and breathed in the savory scents of our dinner. He sat across from me and watched me for a moment before digging in. We ate in silence, and it was nice. I was used to either eating alone or with my family. Drach family dinners were loud and crazy. They were also filled with love and warmth.

Dorian set his fork down, leaned back in his chair, and studied me like he was cataloguing a fragile new species. I knew what came next, felt it hovering between us as solid as the table. He opened his mouth, closed it again. Finally, he said, “You already know I spent the last few months undercover in a cult. What’s your connection to Laris?”

Something wild stirred inside me, the old instinct to run, to hide, to bury the past beneath ten years of forgetting. I considered dodging the question. I didn’t want to lie to him. No need to start this mating off with lies.

“I was taken as a child,” I said, my voice scraping out like it belonged to someone else.

Dorian’s grip tightened on his glass, the danger in his expression a physical thing. He looked ready to burn the world to save me. “You were in Laris’ original cult.”

“Yeah.” A feigned shrug, a half-hearted attempt at indifference. “Blaze Drach found me when he took the cult down. He and his mate adopted me. All this time, we believed Laris was dead.”

Dorian leaned forward, so intense, so sure. “He’s very much alive and still kidnapping magical children.”

A growl escaped me, raw and real. I didn’t want any more kids suffering the way I did at the hands of that psycho.

“That’s why you went undercover,” I said. “To stop him?”

Dorian nodded. “He was building a new following right here in the Smokey Mountains.” He looked at me. “We suspected he’d resurface. We didn’t know it would be him.”

I blinked, let his words settle over me. “We?”

He laughed, a bitter edge to it. “My family.”

His expression was softer. “I’m the youngest of five powerful witches and the only guy. Always trying to prove myself.” A smirk, but it didn’t quite hide the hurt.

I reach out and covered his hand. When I made contact, my body light up with an electric charge. From the way Dorian’s eyes glowed with his inner magic, he felt it too. “So… we’re mates.”

Dorian leaned back while turning his hand so our finger interlock. “I suspected.”

“Suspected?” I almost laughed, almost let it break through the seriousness that wound around us.

“It’s not as immediate for witches,” he said. “It’s more of a knowing.” He paused, eyes never leaving mine. “But the second I touched you back at the farmhouse, I knew for sure.”

My pulse quickened, a bolt of heat racing through me. I shifted in my seat, knowing the next question, needing the answer like I needed air.

“And what does it mean? For you?” Dorian’s eyes darkened, the air growing heavy with certainty.

“It means you’re mine. And I’m yours.”

He stood and moved around the table to stand in front of me, then he pulled me to my feet. Surprised, I stumbled into him, causing him to wrap his arms around me. A wildfire ignited within me. I leaned in as he cupped my face, his thumb skimming over my cheek like I was the most delicate thing he’d ever touched.

"Aspen," he murmured, his voice a rough caress. "Tell me to stop."

I parted my lips, but no words came out. I couldn't form a coherent thought beyond the pounding of my heart, the ache building between my thighs. Dorian's eyes flashed, dark with hunger. I leaned into him, my breath escaping in a shuddery sigh.

"Dorian," I whispered, an entreaty and a warning all in one.

Something snapped in his expression, the last threads of his control slipping away. He closed the minuscule distance between us and captured my mouth with his.

The second our lips met, the mate bond roared to life, a burst of wildfire heat that threatened to incinerate me from the inside out. This was no soft kiss—it was a branding, a claiming, Dorian's lips moving over mine with a near-bruising intensity. A broken moan worked its way up my throat as his tongue plundered my mouth, licking deep, stoking the flames higher.

I grabbed handfuls of his shirt, yanking him closer, needing to feel every hard inch of him pressed against me. Dorian groaned, the sound vibrating through me and igniting my nerve endings like flash paper. His hands skimmed down my back before gripping my hips, his long fingers digging in just shy of too hard.

I barely registered Dorian, scooping me into his arms. The next thing I knew, he was lowering me onto a bed, the soft give of the mattress cradling my body. Dorian followed me down, slotting himself between my splayed thighs like he'd always belonged there.

We tore at each other's clothes, too impatient to bother with finesse. My fingers fumbled over the clasp of his jeans as he wrenched my thin tank top over my head. Cool air kissed my bared skin, only to be chased away by the searing heat of Dorian's hands and mouth.

He trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of my throat, his teeth nipping. I moaned when he reached my breasts, drawing one tight nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the straining peak before sucking hard.

The pleasure was so sharp it bordered on pain and I fisted my hands in his hair, holding him in place. He switched to my other breast, giving it the same merciless treatment until I was writhing beneath him, my legs tightening around his hips.

"Dorian, please," I whimpered, barely recognizing my own voice.

He released my nipple with an obscene pop and continued his leisurely journey down my body, mapping every dip and curve with that wicked mouth. My abs tensed and quivered as he dipped his tongue into my navel before moving lower.

The first touch of his lips against my sex had me bowing off the bed, a strangled cry catching in my throat. He held my hips down with one forearm as he worked me over with lips and teeth and tongue. I shattered within seconds, my nails digging into Dorian's biceps as I rode out the violently intense orgasm.

Before I could catch my breath, he was surging back up my body and notching himself at my entrance. My pleasure-blown eyes met his, seeing my own desperate need reflected at me.

He slid home in one brutal thrust, and I keened, my back arching sharply. Nothing could have prepared me for the feeling of Dorian inside me—hot and hard and huge, stretching me to the point of pain. He held himself still for an endless moment, his forehead pressed to mine as we both adjusted to the soul-deep connection.

And then he moved. Deep, pounding strokes that had me seeing stars. I clung to his broad shoulders, my nails leaving crescent marks on his skin as he drove into me like a man possessed.

Our bond crackled and sparked, winding tighter with each merciless thrust. I could feel Dorian in every cell of my body, his magic twining with mine until I couldn't tell where I ended, and he began.

It was too much, the pleasure building at the base of my spine, coiling hotter and tighter. I chanted Dorian's name like a prayer, begging him for more, harder, faster. He answered with a visceral growl, changing the angle of his hips to grind against my swollen clit.

That was all it took to send me flying apart, my vision whiting out as ecstasy crashed through me in relentless waves. Dorian roared his own release before collapsing on top of me, his heart galloping against my chest.

We clung to each other as we floated back down to earth, our slick skin cooling in the evening air. Dorian rolled to the side and gathered me close, tucking my head beneath his chin. For the first time ever, I was at peace. No matter what happened with Laris tomorrow, I knew without a doubt my mate had my back.

I snuggled into Dorian more, loving the feel of him wrapped around me. Closing my eyes, I let sleep pull me under.