Page 67 of The Demon's Fire
“What if I don’t believe you?”
“Why would I sham you? You explain what happened.”
“I can’t. The one guy does keep making you fall asleep while the slick guy smells so good I tingle everywhere.”
Chay flipped her a disappointed look. She added, “Of course, you make me tingle more.”
“Damn straight, Red.” He cupped the back of her head, pulling her down for a kiss.
She swallowed hard when Chay released her. “Um … then we were both whisked away in a puff of magic to this prison.” Margo took a deep breath. She exhaled, her ample breasts inflating, deflating right beside his nose.
He couldn’t help it. He molded his hand to a tempting mound.
Nice.
Instead of smacking him, she smiled.
“I’m being straight with you, Red. Who would fantastasize a crazy story like this?” He let his arms fall to his sides. No use getting aroused here because, no doubt about it, Margo had the crotch of his pants ready to party.
“It’s a lot to swallow.” Her fingers trailed over his Phoenix brand. “There is something so soothing, so right about touching you. It goes beyond my tactile desires as a sculptor.”
Chay nodded. He liked her hot little palms on him, too. But if she kept at it, he was passing sweet and racing to swollen dick. The radio grabbed his attention again. “What is worse than country western? Static. It’s messin’ with my mind.”
“Yeah. The station keeps losing a signal. Ignore it. Continue, ylve man.”
He held a finger to her lips, shushing Margo. “Here they come.”
The music stuttered when the incubus strode through the door. “Get to the rear of the cell, ylve.”
Chay Jack-in-the-boxed to his feet. “Make me.”
“I would love to send you to your grave, but the moment is not right. It will happen.”
“So, you don’t pull your own strings. Who owns your balls?”
The incubus’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “When it comes time to put you down, I will have the pleasure myself.”
“Yeah? I don’t picture myself being killed by a sweet-smelling, mother-humping puppet. Not in my future, incubutt.”
The sloth demon stepped from behind the incubus and stalked into the cell. Chay rushed to the edge of his chain trying to get at the guy. When he flicked out a clawed hand, Chay’s dodge to the left was too slow. A nail caught him, its poison sending him to the cement floor in a puddle, his legs and arms paralyzed. When it was safe, the other Aeternal entered, delivering two swift but Nancy kicks to his ribs.
“Baby ylves kick stronger than you do,” slurred Chay.
Before the guy could do more damage, the demon prevented him from attacking, a firm grip on his shoulder. “We have a job to do. You can have the ylve later.”
A vein pulsed on the side of the asshole’s neck. He clenched his fist, though, beating a retreat.
Both males grabbed onto Margo, who flailed her arms, kicking hard, screaming like an angry banshee.
A helpless Chay watched from the floor while they dragged Red from the cell and into the other room. She was really getting into the ylve-struck role. Chay moaned when the radio played Johnnie Cash’s “Fulsome Prison.”
Perfect.
ChapterSeventeen
Koletucked the blanket around Skyler’s neck, drawing her closer, alone with his own memories. Since she seemed more peaceful now, he would let her sleep for a few more minutes.
Unlike Skyler’s father, his parents had cherished him. He was a prince. While spoiling him with love, they taught him values. Honor. Duty. Family. Despite both being famed warriors who were busy keeping the peace on two realms, they made time for him and themselves. They played. Laughed. Argued history, science, magic. Hugged. Treated each other with respect. Even before he reached the age for his Awakening, he learned basic control and use of fire.
