Page 62 of Hellish Fae
“Definitely,” Krave encourages, his hand lifting to stroke his long, glittering fingers down the lines of Damien’s stomach.
I arch a brow at the movement, and Zaviar and Ryke do the same, but no one says anything as Damien’s lips part with a breath.
And I see it the moment he feels the sparking magic of Krave’s touch.
“Smoke magic doesn’t work within castle walls,” I whisper, but it’s a perplexed sound that barely leaves my lips.
“We . . . we could hide his body under the treehouse and let his bloody remains feed its roots.” Damien trembles as he watches Krave’s fingers slide lower down the thin trail of hair that disappears beneath his jeans.
Again. What. The. Fuck.
“That’s a good idea.” Krave nods once more, his eyes flashing wildly as he lowers the waist of Damien’s jeans.
“That’s a terrible fucking idea. My father would have all four of you on leashes before the end of the day. And a crown isn’t sharp enough to murder anyone,” I finally say because that shitty plan has higher ranking right now than even the fact that my mate is now stroking Damien’s cock.
And he’s hard. Holy faefuck, Damien’s hard!
Neither of them hear me. Ryke glances my way, but I can tell he’s not actually listening to anything anyone is saying.
Seriously, is a handjob more important than what I have to say right now?
It’s like men can’t hear when their dicks are out or something.
With a sigh, I stomp over beside them, and Zaviar slips right out of their space without a sound.
“Why would you even say that?” I try to cut into Damien’s line of sight, but he’s just as mesmerized by Krave’s ability to get his cock hard as . . . okay everyone in the room seems a little impressed, and I think we all need to reassess our priorities a little bit.
“I don’t know. I said it because . . . because I’d do anything to protect you, Aries,” Damien barely gets those words out before he groans, his head tipping back as Krave’s palm slides slowly over the head of Damien’s cock. The tattooed crown along his middle finger nearly touches the magical dusting staining his fingers. His long fingers make fluid strokes down Damien’s shaft, and my thighs shift as I scream the wordPriorityover and over again in my mind.
Why would Damien put himself in so much danger to protect me?
That kind of loyalty is only found in mat—oh no.
“Oh, no,” I whisper.
But that’s all I’m able to get out. Because Damien shoves his big hand through my hair and roughly pulls me toward him. A delicious growl hums from his lips to mine as he kisses me hard. Forcefully.
Possessively.
Energy pushes and pulls between us, confirming my earlier worries, but also making them disappear as well. I try to focus on the issues we were just talking about, but his tongue slides over mine slowly, and any thoughts left in my head slip away. Long fingers caress mine with a tingling sensation that I instantly know, and that magical touch guides my hand over smooth, hard skin. Krave takes his time wrapping my fingers over Damien’s thick shaft. I hesitate for less than second before my wrist rolls, and I feel every single hard inch of him. His body tenses, his hips thrusting against my palm, and I love the way he responds to me with every move I make.
“Ryke, come here,” Krave instructs.
My lashes flutter, and I pull away to find the incubus settled back on the bed, leaning there as he watches us with wide, flashing eyes.
I turn slightly and I barely glimpse Zaviar slipping out of the room. He looks at me, and then his brother, but that anger that’s normally in his features isn’t there. Concern and . . . something else pull at the corners of his lips.
I don’t have time to dissect the look, because then a big palm, splayed fingers, and a hesitant touch settle over my abdomen. His wide chest is against my back, warming me completely. Through the thin dress, I can feel the heat of the demon’s iron-cursed skin against mine.
My attention lifts, and I meet Ryke’s gaze from over my shoulder, his eyes searching mine. In front of me, Damien’s lips press to my neck, and he distracts me with every flick of his tongue and nip of his teeth. A questioning pause still lingers between Ryke and me, and he waits with his body strung tight for me to either shove him away or . . .
My fingers slide over his beard and jaw, but I don’t pause for a second before brushing my mouth slowly against his. My lips tingle but in the best possible way. The more I touch him, the more the pain dulls into a pleasant sting of tension and angst.
Damien’s palms push down my stomach, and I don’t feel his warmth against me until his breath fans against my thighs. He kisses there, one side and then the other, with a slow press of his soft lips and then a hard bite of his teeth.
A gasp tears from my lips, and I buck against him before he holds me firmly in place. Warmth sears through my panties as he firmly slides his tongue along my sex from over the thin layer of underwear separating us.
My fingers instantly grip his blonde hair, urging him on, but he never shoves aside the material covering the most sensitive part of me. Instead he nips there, biting slowly, dragging his teeth over my lips and even my clit.
