Page 64 of Chained to the Devil's Daughter

“Shall we eat?”

“Mmmmm, not yet.” She tightened her hold, but I extracted myself, kissing the top of her head.

“If you’re to bear as many pups as I plan to whelp upon you, we can’t have your stomach sounding like a wounded bear.”

“Just how many babies do you think I can handle, Ash? I’m a human.” She said the last word like I was missing some kind of point, which she accentuated with a crude gesture to her birthing hips.

“Your hips are perfect for breeding, my love, and being human only means you’ll need a little more rest in between. I’ll take care of your poor cunt and healing body. You won’t need to lift a finger.”

“I like having use of my fingers.” She wiggled the little treasures before my face, diving them into the picnic basket the moment I opened the lid. With a mouth full of sticky bun, she plopped down cross-legged and glared up at me. “Answer the question.”

“Twelve.” I sat across from her, caging her between my crooked knees. “No, Sixteen.”

Her jaw dropped open, fluffy bread fully on display.

“Relax, princess.” I pretended to be disgusted and guided her jaw closed. “As I said. You’ll not even notice.”

“Right, I’ll not noticegiving birth sixteen times. You’re such a man.”

“More man than you’ve ever had.”

“Theonlyman I’ve ever had, and you’re delusional! Flames curse my luck.”

I chuckled and peered into the basket, easily deciding on an okapi drumstick the size of Searra’s forearm. It wasn’t flame-seared the way I liked it best, but Tor'cha had convinced me to try this steamed version from her book of family recipes, which she rarely had the chance to use up until—naturally—Searra took charge and allowed everyone to do whatever they Hell they pleased. It certainly worked out. I moaned at the first bite and ripped into the next with the carnivorous urge of a beast starved. Pretty soon, the massive bone was licked clean.

A wide pair of cerulean eyes stared at me over another fluffy cinnamon-dusted bun. She’d barely eaten most of the sticky bun, judging from where it hovered suspended before her gaping mouth.

“What?”

“Please tell me you plan to eat me like that tonight, too.”

Darkness surged through my veins, filling my cock with blood. I growled, more threateningly than I meant to. “Eat your dinner, Firefly, and keep that pretty mouth shut if you want to hear my next surprise before I fuck you so full you beg for my twenty kids.”

“Twenty! What happened to twelve?!”

“Fine, so we compromise. Twelve it is.”

“No, no! That is not what I meant, and you know it!” She stuffed her mouth with the rest of the bun. More blood surged to my cock at the anger in her gaze. “Whatever. What’s this big surprise, if it isn’t your beautiful new wing?”

I cleared my throat. Grabbing those perfect breeding hips, I scooted her closer, her legs loosely draped over mine, her sex burning a distracting hole against my crotch. She dusted her hands off and looked at me intently, reading me like one of her dirty romance books.

“Don’t stop eating.” I nudged the basket with my knee. “You’ll need your strength.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits, but she fished around in the hodgepodge picnic. “What’s going on with you?”

I pulled the folded parchment from my pocket, unfurling it with a saucy wink despite the nerves coiling inside.

35

Ash’ren

"I—hah.” I cleared my throat, rattling shadows loose from my mind. A petite hand with sticky cinnamon fingers appeared on my hip, an anchor. I gave her rosemary heron skewer a pointed look. She rolled her eyes and ripped off another bite. “I did a lot of reading up there. And re-reading. Some very riveting stuff about chef Tiki, who apparently Tor’cha idolizes.”

“You do love a good action adventure.”

“Exactly.” I kept my tone playful, and dismissive but had to clear the lump in my throat again. “And I dabbled in a little poetry.”

Her gasp was a little more dramatic than I’d expected. I gave her a wounded glare and her hand disappeared to cover her mouth, but I snatched it and put it back on my thigh, a little higher this time.

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