“We can talk about that,” I purred. “Or, we can use this time in a much more… enjoyable way.”
I wouldn’t think about the fact that each time I saw him in these dreams could be the last time. Flat-out refused to think that this could be the final time he touched me.
“I need you,” I told him. His expression softened, and he lowered his mouth to mine.
His tongue swept in, claiming my mouth. I slid my tongue against his, claiming him right back, and his low growl made me shiver.
We kissed for so long, my head spun. Time was no longer a concept as we drifted in the lazy pleasure of having each other close. And my eyes burned at what Samael’s slow movements told me.
Even now, when each time we found each other could be the last, he refused to be rushed. Refused tonottake his time. Refused to give in to the rage and the terror that made my breath catch in my throat whenever I thought of it.
He slowly took his mouth from mine, his eyes lit with a primal, savage lust. Then he bent, his mouth dropping to my breasts, where he pressed kisses to every inch of them, until I groaned and he laughed, his tongue finding my nipple.
He gently—so gently—used the edge of his teeth, and I shuddered against him, my core clenching in need.
“Now,” I ordered, tired of waiting. “Now, now, oh God.”
He’d guided himself into me, and his hips rolled as he thrust, filling me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted to meet him, urging him on.
His eyes found mine, and we stared at each other, moving in sync, reaching for our mutual pleasure. I knew what he was doing, because I was doing the same—memorizing his face, imprinting this moment to my very soul. I choked out a sob and his eyes softened, his mouth gentle, achingly tender as he brushed kisses over my face, instantly removing any hint of tears.
I gasped as he circled his hips, and then he ground against me, his pelvic bone pressing against my clit as he caressed my g-spot.
Pleasure engulfed me, and I stared at my demon as I trembled, making him a silent promise.
Whatever it took.
I’d do whatever it took to make sure he lived.
5
DANICA
Iwoke after my dream with Samael. Then I tossed and turned, itching to go directly to the Dearg Due.
Aubrey had said he’d fill me in, but I didn’t want to wait. I got up, collected my books, and headed into my office. Then I researched everything I could find about the creature I needed to convince to help me.
Once I’d made my notes–including a list of questions for Aubrey just as soon as it was an acceptable time to call–I showered in Samael’s huge shower, missing him like a limb as I lathered myself in his soap. And then I curled up on the other side of the bed from him, where I wouldn’t risk touching him if I did fall back asleep. Just a simple brush of my hand could make more of his body crumble, and I couldn’t bear to watch it happen.
By dawn, I was up and dressed, gulping down a cup of coffee. Kyla met me in the office Samael had set up for me. I still hadn’t had a chance to unpack the office I was renting from Keigan, but it wasn’t exactly high priority right now.
Since Ag had insisted I was in charge of the demons, the first thing I’d done was give Kyla access to Samael’s rooms so we could make our plans and strategies here, without me needing to go too far from my demon. I was relatively sure Ag was fuming about it, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
I handed Kyla a cup of coffee and she sipped with a pleased hum. “So, you want to tell me about the Dearg Due?”
I nodded, gulping my own coffee. “There are seven Dearg Due. The original was a part of the light fae court. Five of the others were turned over the past few centuries. I messaged Aubrey this morning, and he confirmed that we need to talk to the second Dearg Due created, who–unfortunately for the original–is the most infamous.
“Anyway, I’d heard ofthisDearg Due before, but only as part of an Irish legend. A young, incredibly beautiful woman grew up in a place called Waterford. She fell in love with a local boy who was kind, good, and, of course, penniless. Her father was an asshole who arranged a marriage between his daughter and a cruel chieftain from an area close by.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. The chieftain was a sadist and regularly beat the crap out of her. Some of the locals said he liked to see her bleed. He locked her away, where she waited, hoping for someone to rescue her. Eventually, she realized no one was coming. Her love turned to hate, and she began starving herself to death, hiding away the food the servants bought her.
“According to Aubrey, she’d made a bargain with one of the light fae. Her mother’s ancestors had traces of fae blood, which had been passed down. While she was dying, she renounced her god and turned to the seelie instead. The portals in Ireland were never as tightly locked as those elsewhere, and she got her answer. She made a deal with the original Dearg Due, who obviously liked the idea of having a partner in crime. The woman would be allowed to temporarily ‘die’ so she could see who would mourn–and if either her father or husband would turn from their wicked ways.”
Kyla winced. “Even then she was… naïve. But the girl had stones. Starving is a bad way to go.”
“Yeah. You need commitment to turn down food, but this woman had plenty of that. Anyway, the locals had their superstitions about the dead, and it was tradition to cover new graves in rocks to prevent them from rising up. Either people felt sorry for the woman, or they remembered how kind she’d been before her husband ruined her, and they didn’t leave a single rock. So she rose up and transformed into what the locals assumed was a vampire. Spoiler alert, neither her husband nor her father had suddenly turned over a new leaf.”
