: Chapter 13

Mind blank.

Mind.

Too beautiful. Rök felt like he’d been awestruck at the sight of the divine.

Damp curls framed glistening, pink flesh. His tongue flicked in his mouth for a taste. Her little clit was taut and plump, must ache. He understood—his cock, horns, and fangs pained him as never before.

warred with .

Her intoxicating scent made him as high as opium. When she undulated her hips, the entry to her sex beckoned, and demonic urges racked him. He burned to mount her, mate her, thrusting his cock inside her sheath until they both reached oblivion.

He ran his swollen horns along one of her pale thighs. The other. He rubbed across her belly and breasts.

She sat up on her elbows and gasped, “Demon!”

“Problem with that?” If Wiccans didn’t have mates, how to get her to sign on for more? Only one time frame would do:

In answer, she parted her thighs even more, like an offering. The altar of everything.

On his knees before her, breaths ragged, he gripped her breasts with his claw-tipped fingers.

She arched to his touch, pressing her flesh into his palms—yet more offering.

Fondling her, he lowered his head. He dragged his tongue over one nipple, then circled the damp tip.

Her gasp was a lash at his back. How would he last? Urgency gripped him, but he’d give her no hint of it.

He drew the pouting point between his lips, wetting it and flicking. Then he turned to her other nipple. To the music of her breathless moans, he suckled.

“Rök . . .

!”

Just like his fantasies. They shared a look over her breast.

Releasing his suck, he kissed down her body to nuzzle the fire-red hair on her mons, luxuriating in her scent and the delights he’d soon enjoy. “I want you so fucking much, Poppy,” he rasped. “

of you.” But first they needed to burn away the worst of their lust. Before he claimed her, he’d tell her the truth.

She would listen once they’d found some relief.

“

I want you too, Rök.”

It would happen this very night. Sheer joy swept him up, and he smiled against her curls.

Until she added, “I meant what I said—you don’t have to worry about me summoning you. I won’t act on any pact we make.”

He leaned up with a scowl. “Because I’m not romantic partner material?” Just as he’d been warned—she was his, but he wasn’t hers. The idea filled him with aggression. “Then I’m going to eat you like you’re my last godsdamned meal, make you come so hard, you’ll to summon me every night for the rest of your life.”

He fitted his splayed fingers around the globes of her ass and pressed his mouth to her sex. The luscious, slick bliss that greeted him ripped a growl from his chest.

She moaned, “Kiss me, demon. Kiss . . .”

Her taste was a beacon, signaling his demonic instincts.

His pointed tongue made contact with her clitoris.

“Ahhhh!” she cried, already on the verge.

He lightly licked her bud.

Not enough to bring her off; just enough to madden her. Nuzzling and licking, he demanded, “You like your demon’s tongue?”

He eased lower to spear her opening for more of her tantalizing nectar.

“Ah, Hecate, yes!” She wetted his lips with her own.

As he kissed, his hips rocked, grinding his length against the quilts. He’d never been so hard. So weirdly emotional. After more than a millennium of waiting, he was pleasuring his mate!

Even if she never wanted him to again.

Her cries grew needier. “Finish me!”

His cock threatened to go off spontaneously; still, he bit out, “Ah-ah. Maybe I should torment you to distraction.” He worked a finger inside her wetness, leisurely fucking her with it as he tongued her clit. “I could you want more.”

“It’s already torment. Demon, I ache so bad!” Her head thrashed. “This is even better than I imagined.”

He jolted. “Did you fantasize about me, witch?”

Lost, she nodded.

He lashed her bud harder, praising her. “Did you finger this sweet pussy to thoughts of me?”

Her lids fluttered. “I did. I do. A lot.”

A savage thrill pierced him like a surprise sword strike.

“More demon! I need .”

“And I’ll give it to you once you promise me⁠—”

She seized his horns and yanked him closer.

Bucking to his mouth, she took her climax. Took his sanity. His control.

Her scream of rapture echoed as she writhed and writhed to wring her pleasure.

He tasted his mate’s orgasm, couldn’t lick it fast enough. As her core clenched his finger, frenzy hit. A haze covered his vision—any thoughts of teasing vanished.

Poppy released his horns as she came down from the most realms-shattering orgasm she’d ever had. She’d known getting off with Rök would boggle her brain.

“You’re not done.” His voice was unrecognizable—

. Smoke rose from the tips of his flared horns as he kept kissing her, doing wicked things with that talented tongue. “I’ll drink you down. We’re not done!”

To her surprise . . . he was right. Tension gathered anew. She would definitely need another night of this Just one summoning, but then never again!

Craving his taste, she gestured for his cock. “Want to kiss you too. Sixty-nine?”

His hips seemed to surge out of his control. Rising above her with feverish gray eyes and swollen muscles, he growled a sound, something like:

He maneuvered until they lay side by side, ready to partake.

She took him in hand, marveling at his girth. As Rök set back in with his heated kiss, she could tell he was holding his breath, awaiting hers.

When she leaned in and darted her tongue around the tip, his puff of exhalation briefly cooled her sex. He’d threatened her with torment? She’d show him torment.

She bestowed kitten licks from his heavy balls . . . following that raised vein upward . . . to the slit along his flared crown . . . and back down.

Flitting her tongue. Fluttering it. Worshipping.

He growled against her. A nip on her thigh told her the demon was done with teasing.

Taking pity on him, she sucked him between her lips as she stroked the thick base of his shaft, finding a loving rhythm. But it wasn’t enough. As he sent her rocketing toward the precipice again, she grew hungrier. Hungrier. Until she was bobbing on his length, cheeks hollowed with suction.

He groaned desperately, and his cock pulsed in her mouth. She savored the feel of his mighty flesh and his . . . essence?

She slowed. Had she detected a hint of salt? Precum? Another pulsation; another hint of seed.

Wait . . . A male demon couldn’t produce semen unless he was with his mate.

She broke away, gasping with realization. “Oh my gods, it all makes sense!”

He grunted something incomprehensible against her. Then he commanded, “Keep. Sucking. Witch. Your mouth . . . gods . . . you’re slaying me!”

His reaction almost seduced her, but this was too important.

“I know why Desh broke his promise of confidentiality. I know what leverage you used with him!”

Rök rolled onto his back, looking like he was having trouble coming back down to this realm. His engorged penis twitched. When she could peel her gaze from it, she found his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed. “Hottest blow job of my life, and you’re thinking about Desh?

Going to kill that godsforsaken pirate.”

She scrambled away, finding her underwear and bra. “You told him I’m your mate! That’s why he brought you here and ditched me into your care. A demon would bend the rules for a fellow demon whose mate might be in jeopardy.” She dragged clothes on. “You asshole! You knew I was yours, and you didn’t tell me?”

As if she hadn’t spoken, he yanked up his pants and bounded to his feet. “Desh, really?” Zipping his jeans over his dick without a care, Rök paced. She’d never seen him this unmoored. Almost to himself, he said, “Bad enough when you were with that warlock. I couldn’t off him for that, right? I mean, I . Went to his house to do it. But hell, if you found out a demon had hunted your suitors, it would be over before it started.”

“It? Are you talking about matehood?” Her wild accusations were, like, ? “You’d murder a rival? You Neanderthalian demon!”

“Demons were never Neanderthals,” he said absently, still pacing. “Why were you thinking about Desh when your lips were around me? When you were breaking my will with your tongue?” He slowed to face her, looking confounded. “Why are we not coming together right now?”

“Because I tasted you, and then some puzzle pieces fell into place. But I can’t be yours.”

His bulging jaw muscles said it all.

“You can’t be sure until you claim a female. You’re supposed to attempt them, right? What’s that saying? In the throes you know!”

“Maybe for some. But I knew the night of our date.”

Poppy was his fated female? The only one he’d get—

? Though she’d dreamed about this exact scenario, now, the pressure felt too intense. “You . . . didn’t say anything.”

“I was about to, but you told me to do other things with my mouth, remember?”

“You couldn’t have revealed this nugget at any time over the past two years?” The words hung in the air as more memories bloomed. Suddenly she realized what Rök had mouthed to her across a crowd of rowdy Loreans.

“The bonfire . . .”

“Yeah, I told you that night. And how’d you react? You portaled away like it was the last evac out of a hot zone! I tried to convince myself you didn’t understand me.”

“I didn’t!”

“Would it have made a difference? You were dating that warlock. Gods below, I wanted that prick dead. Only the thought of hurting you kept me from taking his head.” Rök’s eyes blazed, his fangs sharpening. “I’ll say this again—I can’t help what I am. And I am bloody denying what I feel for you.” As smoke rose from his tanned chest, he stalked closer to her, looking dangerous and so sexy her mind nearly blanked. “I am done with pain, done with craving! The demon in me will have his due.

.”

On the tip of her tongue:

.

But she had too many questions, and she was furious to only now be learning about⁠—

The sound came from a far corner of the attic. Movement appeared deep in the shadows. “The skeletons are coming!”

Rök grated a curse in Demonish and stomped into his boots. “Their timing is infernal.”

She yanked on her jacket and bag, probing her curse. “It’s not just them. I feel them stirring.” She and Rök would have to deal with this shocking revelation later. “It’s bad. Worse than ever before.” To punctuate her statement, the angry shriek of a horse sounded from somewhere in the castle.

Rök donned his shirt. “That what I think it is?”

Nod. “The Headless Horseman.”