Page 39 of Demon Sworn
Okay, Katrina. So you think your appearance in the demons’ lives is what started all of this. Why? Why? Why?
Do my guys…? Do my guys have a secret admirer? Maybe an ex that’s still in love with them?
A vicious, hissing snake, one green with jealousy, slithers through my stomach at the thought, but I force myself to look at things rationally and with a clear, level head.
Obviously, my men had lives before me. Sex lives, if you know what I mean. Van especially. They claimed to have interviewed all of their ex-lovers, but maybe they’re missing one? It’s doubtful Van remembers all of his lovers throughout time. Though…
Though if anyone would, it’d be Van.
Chewing on my lower lip, I turn off the shower and reach around the curtain for a towel.
Only for my fingers to touch hard muscle instead. I glance up to see my nightmare demon naked, looking like every girl’s wet dream. His sandy brown hair falls over his eyes, which glow with the faintest ring of red. And all that muscle… If my face wasn’t already dripping with water, I’d be worried about drool.
“Now, now, baby girl. I didn’t say you could be done,” Raz growls out, stalking towards me with sharp, piercing eyes. I’m helpless to look away, the fly caught in the metaphorical web I mentioned earlier.
“Done?” I squeak as he crowds me, all smooth muscle, bronze skin, and hard cock. When I’m back inside the shower, he reaches around me to turn the water back on. I’ve never…done this before. Shower sex, I mean. Do I offer to wash him? Have him wash me? Gape at his bobbing cock like a mad woman while my mouth hangs open?
I’m gonna go with door number three, please.
Every inch of Raz is pure, masculine perfection. My eyes track over the angel wings tattooed to his chest—encapsulating complete and utter irony—to his messy brown hair. And then lower, to the defined V of his hips leading to a large cock dripping with pre-cum.
As my eyes pore over him, his do the same to me.
A low growl rumbles through his chest, the noise so possessive and primitive that the flash of heat between my thighs increases tenfold.
“Raz…” I don’t know if it’s a prayer, a warning, or a combination of the two. Maybe it’s a question? All I know for certain is that I can’t tear my eyes away from his dark gaze, one that flays open my skin and leaves me raw and bleeding. Vulnerable.
And oh so loved.
“You know that we’ll never let anything happen to you or Adam again, right?” Raz’s voice is almost…desperate. Needy. “I swear to you, Katrina, we’ll find this asshole. And we’ll kill him.”
I should be scared of Raz threatening to murder someone, but I’m not. Maybe my time with the demons has broken something inside of me, shattering something that can never be replaced or haphazardly taped together.
Or maybe…
Maybe it has finally set me free.
“I know,” I whisper, and I do. I truly believe that my men will protect me with every ounce of darkness they possess. Everything that makes them monstrous and terrifying.
“Katrina…”
I slide my palm down his ripped abs, my eyes never leaving his. His brown hair appears darker in the shower, plastered to his scalp in a way that’s strangely erotic. Or hell, maybe everything about these demons is strangely erotic.
And it occurs to me then… These men are my soulmates. People spend their entire lives looking for the one person who is theirs and theirs alone, and I have five of them. Five men who will quite literally move Heaven and Hell for me.
I wrap my fingers around Raz’s thick base and squeeze. He grunts, his hips jerking, but he doesn’t reach out to grab me, to throw me against the shower wall and fuck me within an inch of my life the way I know he so desperately wants to.
Tonight, I’m in control.
I slowly plant a teasing kiss on the corner of his lips, grinning when he tries to chase me with his mouth, before trailing more open-mouthed kisses down his neck and towards his chest. My tongue searches out the hardened point of his nipple, and he throws his head back with a groan of pleasure, his sooty lashes fluttering shut. I lower myself to my knees before him, kissing directly below his belly button over his light brown hair.
“Katrina…” he begins again, his voice husky, crafted from violence and pleasure. I can’t help but smile against the skin of his lower stomach, knowing that no one but me will ever hear that particular voice again. It’s one that speaks to long nights tangled between the sheets, fucking even as the sun is eaten by the boughs of trees and the moon illuminates the night sky. Of tangled hands, fisted hairs, and gasping moans of pleasure.
My hand tightens around the base of his shaft, and I look up, waiting until he lets out a sharp, surprised gasp. His eyes snap open and land on me with his usual smoldering intensity.
I can feel my nipples harden at the look in his eyes—a heady combination of desire, wanton need, and love. It’s a delicious, decadent cocktail that I’ll never get enough of.
I drop my mouth down to his dick and swirl my tongue around the head. He hisses, his hands raising as if he wants to fist them in my hair, before he drops them back to his sides.
