Page 5 of Asher

“Let’s go.” He knee-walks to me and straddles my hips. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a demon. I forgot how thick you all are.” His big hand wraps around my cock, and my breath stutters in my chest.

“Sure you can take me?” I taunt, and he chuckles.

“I can’t wait.” He drizzles lube over my dick, then drops the bottle on my stomach. I grab it and lube up my hand. His hard, long cock is pointing toward me, and I have plans for it.

I wait for Garrett to position himself and ease down. My cockhead presses against his pucker, and it takes a moment and some pressure for him to relax enough to let me in. He slides slowly down, giving himself time to adjust, and it’s not until I’m all the way in and he’s grinning wickedly at me that I grab his dick. “Set the rhythm, hellhound.”

He rises off me. “Keep up, demon.”

When he said he wanted this first time to be fast, he wasn’t lying. And for someone who doesn’t have a gym-honed body, he’s got amazing strength in his thighs. The pace he sets is fast and hard, and it’s not long before I’m soaked in sweat, clenching my teeth to keep from exploding inside his hot, tight ass. My hand is pumping his cock, and he’s gasping on every stroke, his face flushed, eyes glassy.

I’m on the verge of rolling him under me so I can take control and finish us both when I feel them. Against my palm, the soft-rigid touch of cartilage.

His barbs.

Barbs only pop out when a shifter is about to come.

With one last squeeze, I give myself over to my orgasm, letting it blast through me even as Garrett throws back his head with a yell. A moment later, he collapses onto my chest, right in the warm mess he just sprayed over me. He’s heavy, and I roll us onto our sides so we can catch our breath.

“That was fucking incredible,” I gasp, running my hand over his torso and tilting my head to lay a kiss on his neck.

“Five minutes, and we go again.”

This might just be the best night of my life.

CHAPTERTHREE

Garrett

“They weren’t kiddingwhen they said the road was bad,” Annie observes from the passenger seat beside me. She’s pale with a greenish tinge and looks clammy, but so far has managed not to be sick today. The new travel sickness meds might be working… sort of. “If they want to keep people here who need to use the road regularly, they’re going to need to improve it.”

I hum in agreement. “That’s definitely going into my plan,” I mutter, trying to steer around the biggest pothole and managing to hit half a dozen others. If I didn’t have my team and pile of bags in the car, I’d abandon it here, shift, and run the rest of the way. “We must be close, though.” I hope. We’re so far up in the mountains now that the air is much thinner, and it’s definitely cooler. If this is what it’s like in August, I can believe that they get cut off by snow for the whole of winter and then some.

Luckily, it’s less than an hour later, even at the stupidly slow pace I’m forced to drive at, that the thinning trees open up to show a picture-perfect village that looks like it belongs in a movie.

“Ohhhhhh,” Annie whispers.

“Wow, that’s pretty,” Sid adds. “I’m glad I brought my camera.”

I don’t say anything, just take in the lovely vista. With snowcapped peaks surrounding us, we’re guaranteed an amazing view from every direction. That’s a huge selling point.

Though maybe not so much in the winter when it’s obscured by blizzards.

The car crawls along the main street of the village, past charming shops, a supermarket, what looks like a town hall, and a lovely green park where about a dozen children are playing. The five adults supervising them all turn to stare at my car, and I realize that there’s no traffic. As in… literally none. The village is small, but not so small that I’d expect to see no cars at all, even on a clear day like this. This must be a demon thing—they incorporate teleportation into their lives the same way the rest of us use cars and public transport. Does that mean there are no cars in the village at all? There are roads, though. Did they build them for the aesthetic? Or are there some cars here?

“Sid, make a note about cars, please.”

“Sure. Um… cars?”

“Yes. There aren’t any.”

He makes a wordless sound of surprise.

I turn right after the park, following the directions we were given, and find a small, neat building with a sign out front indicating it’s the post office. I’m not sure how often they get mail delivery up here, given the state of the road we just drove in on, and I ask Sid to make another note as I park the car. Jesse, the demon species leader who acts as the mayor—though completely unelected—said his office and the town administration are based in this building.

Sid and I scramble out of the car and stretch, while Annie drags herself out and leans against the low stone wall bordering the house next door. I tune into my sense of smell. Hellhounds have the best sense of smell of any species, so much so that most of us learn how to ignore it while we’re still small children. It’s too distracting otherwise, and can also kind of invade people’s privacy, since we can smell changes in emotion. So while I can always smell those things, I don’t actually process them unless I’m concentrating. The rest of the time it just gets shunted to another part of my brain, like background noise.

Now, though, I focus on my olfactory intake. There’s nearly no pollution here, which is nice. The underlying scent is of demon, which makes sense, since they’re the only ones who live here. I can pick out a few individual scents, people who’ve walked past here recently or are nearby. It’s a little odd not having the mixed base smell of all species. I’m so used to smelling a combo of hellhound, felid, demon, sorcerer, incubus, vampire, and human. More recently, I’ve occasionally gotten a whiff of other that told me an elf or dragon had been around recently. But here, there’s none of that. Just demon.

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