Page 20 of Asher

Laughing, I cross to stand before him, drop a kiss on his pretty lips, and then sink to my knees. “I’m sorry I failed to anticipate your needs. I’ll try to do better.” I close my hand around his rapidly hardening cock, and his breath catches.

“See that you do.” He’s trying to sound stern, but his lips are curling at the edges. I’m going to wipe away that amusement and leave him begging.

I settle back on my heels, lean forward, and take him as deep as I can. His hips jerk, and I gag and pull back.

“Sorry,” he mutters as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I meet his gaze.

“Don’t be.” But I lay one hand on his thigh to hold him in place. I don’t mind choking on cock, but I want to be in control of it.

Garrett trembles slightly under my touch, and it’s my turn to smile as I swallow his dick again. This time, I seal my lips as tight as I can around him and pull back slowly, so slowly, and his breath explosively leaves his chest. I pause at the bulbous head and work my tongue along the vein there. Then I do it all over again.

And again.

And when his breath is stuttering and his whole body is trembling, I switch things up and focus only on sucking the head. Garrett’s hand lands on my head, fingers tangling in my hair. “Asher, please.”

I pull off, panting. “What do you want?” His face is flushed and his pupils blown. I love seeing him this way.

“I want to come down your throat so hard that I see stars.”

Not bothering to answer, I wrap one hand around the base of his cock and get back to tormenting the head with my tongue.

“Ashhherrr,” he moans. I adjust my position slightly to take the pressure off my own dick, which is achingly hard in my pants, and then envelop every free inch of his cock with my mouth.

As if on cue, his barbs pop out, scraping gently along the tender inner flesh of my cheeks, and a second later Garrett explodes, cum filling my mouth and sliding down my throat. I swallow every bit I can before pulling off him and wiping my mouth.

His hand tightens in my hair as he looks down at me, both of us gasping for breath. “One minute, and then it’s your turn.”

CHAPTERNINE

Garrett

I’ve always likedthe first day of school when I’m teaching young children. The personalities and dynamics are fascinating. Some kids are excited, ready to take on any adventure that comes their way. Others are more timid, enthusiastic about theideaof school, but more reserved when it comes to the real thing. And some just don’t want to be there.

There’s so much to observe and learn.

This first day is extra special, though, because most of these children—and teenagers—have never met anyone who isn’t a demon. In order to make things as stress-free as possible for the littlest ones, we asked that a family member be present for the first hour at least, to give some security while they get used to us. So far, though, things are going well. There are some kids hanging back and clinging close to parents, but most of the rest are mingling with each other and casting curious looks at me and my team.

The benefit of this being such a small community is that the kids already know each other. They’ve been playing together since they were infants, so there’s no need for them to make friends—they already are friends. For those who’ve never been to school before, there’s a new environment to become accustomed to, but otherwise, the only new or strange thing here is us.

Sid, who’s been doing a headcount, gives me the nod that everyone is here. I step up to the front of the assembly room, where we asked everyone to meet, and hold up my hands. “Good morning! Could I have your attention, please?”

There’s a round of shushes, but it takes a lot less time than usual for everyone to quiet down and look at me. They’re all very curious about us, and I’m going to make that work in our favor.

“Thank you. Welcome back to school! I know it’s been some time since you were able to be here, and we hope to make this a fun experience for you. I’m Garrett Smythe, and these are Sid Lane and Annie Adarsh. We’re going to be running the school this year.” We had an intense and occasionally heated conversation with Jesse and the council last week about how the children should address us. Some of the old guard—though surprisingly, not Damaris—wanted strict formality enforced. That’s not my preference, though, and my experience backs it up, so I held firm to my plan, and as a result, the kids will be able to decide whether to address us by our given names or more formally. As I explained to the council, respect is inherent in the way one speaks, not the name one uses.

“You may have noticed that I’m a bit different from all of you. That’s because I’m a canid shifter—or, to use the more common term, a hellhound. We’ll have plenty of time throughout the year to talk about the differences between our species, but is there anything important you’d like to ask me now before Sid and Annie introduce themselves?”

I’m expecting hands to go up, and sure enough, they do. I pick one little boy who’s leapt out of his chair and is hopping from foot to foot, waving his arm frantically. I know from reviewing the enrolment files that his name is Paul and he’s seven years old.

“Yes, Paul?”

His mouth drops open. “You know my name? Is that a hellhound superpower?”

I bite back a grin. “No, somebody told me your name. Was that your question?”

He shakes his head vehemently. “My sister told me you can’t teleport. Is she a big fat liar?”

A ripple of amusement runs through the adults, and among the teens, his sister, Megan, rolls her eyes and mutters to her friends.

---