Page 118 of Demon's Bride

A hand in my hair, jerking my head back. “No, what?”

“No, sir!” The second word comes out as a scream as he sinks his fangs and cock into me with a single savage bite and thrust.

He keeps me there, helpless and impaled on him, while he drinks deeply. Lips coated in red and turned up in a satisfied smirk, he releases me with a wet lave over the wound and looks down at our joined bodies.

“I should make you take my knot as punishment for your disobedience,” he snarls, forcing the swell of flesh even tighter to where I’m already stretched wide around him.

“No!” I cry again in mock-protest, bucking and squirming and fighting against him in deliberate provocation.

The struggle is almost as fun as seeing what it does to him. Another vicious snarl, red eyes eclipsed almost entirely by black pupils, and another hard pull on my hair lets me know exactly who he thinks is in charge as he works his hips and makes me take every inch of him. The stretch borders on pain, but he stills for a moment and lets me adjust, always taking care of me despite our wicked games.

I move my hands to his horns, bring his face to my neck, and drop my head back against the stone to bare my throat in a silent command I know he’ll obey.

Eren chuckles, a darkly affectionate sound that skitters across my skin as he lowers his mouth. “You win, witch. But only this one time.”

It’s the last coherent thing either of us says for a long, long time.

Later, when the afternoon sun is sinking toward the distant peaks and the humid heat of the afternoon is still wrapped around us like a blanket, we dive back into the pool beneath the falls, laughing and splashing and cooling off. We’ve spent the last hour trading kisses and bites and orgasms, and every inch of my skin is humming and flushed in delicious, sensual awareness.

The victor?

The jury’s still out on that, but I’m feeling pretty damn triumphant when my sex-satisfied demon lays back in the pool and tugs me down on top of him. He spreads his wings wide in the water to keep us both afloat, and I use him like my own personal life raft, climbing up his body and settling myself against him as a purr kicks up in his chest.

“We have to get back to the keep to get ourselves ready for tonight,” he rumbles.

“We have time,” I tell him, leaning up to press a line of kisses over his jaw and against his neck, pausing to let my teeth press down on his skin.

That rumble turns to a possessive growl as he hugs me tighter to him.

“For you, my mate? I have all the time in the world.”

It’s Tithe night again.

Only this time, the Goddess won’t choose. Her daughters will step forward willingly, those who have decided to step into the demon realm of their own free will. Never again will a witch be forced into a path not of her choosing.

My spell made certain of that.

There, in the Veil’s ether, I wove the strands a little differently than the first witch. In that wash of pure power, I called on the Goddess for help and heard her answering affirmation.

Our magick will continue to balance the realms, but that burden and responsibility won’t fall on the shoulders of a single witch.

And apparently my husband made quite an impression on the night of the last Tithe and on the full moon, because tonight there are a dozen witches who are eager to step through the Veil. Whether they’ll find their own demon mates on the other side remains to be seen, but while they’re here, their magick will help strengthen the ties that bind the realms together.

My mother watches the proceedings with an approving, if slightly bemused, look on her face. She eyes Felix, who’s come to help escort witches through the portal, with a bit of skepticism as he employs his rakish charm on a few of the waiting women, but doesn’t make any move to interfere. As the first few witches step through, our eyes meet, and she gives me a tentative smile.

I return it. Things between us are… well, about the same as ever. Whether that will change in time also remains to be seen, but for now I’m alright with the path we’re forging forward in our relationship.

Turning from her, I look out over the rest of the clearing, gaze stopping on one familiar face.

“I can’t tempt you to come through?” I ask Joan, wrapping her in a quick hug.

She also looks Felix up and down for a moment like she’s seriously considering it, but then shakes her head with a laugh.

“Maybe someday,” she says. “Right now, things are a little crazy here.”

“What do you mean?”

She glances over my shoulder. When I turn to see what she’s looking at, my mother quickly glances away. Weird.

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