How was that possible? “You’ve met a lot of people,” she said, heart threatening to beat out of her chest.
“I know. That’s what makes this so remarkable.” He kissed her, soft at first, then with more pressure. She wrapped her arms around him, plunging one hand into his hair and gripping his ass with the other.
“Want you inside me,” she whispered.
He hummed and nodded, still kissing her. But when she reached up to yank out a strand of hair to summon a condom, he pulled back. “Use mine,” he said.
“What?”
“My hair,” he said. “It isn’t fair to use yours each time.”
She’d never felt this mix of ardor and tenderness before. She nodded, then reached for a hair at the top of his head and plucked it. The strand was only a few inches long, but she could make it work. She briefly let go of his ass to tie a series of knots, then whispered the spell, and a condom plopped to the bed beside them.
“Somewhere, a pharmacist is confused about their dwindling condom supply.” Astaroth put the condom on with neat, efficient movements. Another thing she liked about him—he didn’t try to convince her not to use one. She had an IUD, too, but Calladia was paranoid about maintaining full bodily autonomy, and getting her exes to agree to condoms had been an ordeal.
How telling that an immortal demon with a deadly reputation valued consent more than the human men she’d been with.
“I take them from an RA’s condom bowl at my old college,” she said. “They’re free for anyone who needs them.”
“Ah, I was hoping you’d developed a larcenous streak. But trust you to summon condoms ethically.”
She laughed. “Trying to corrupt me?”
“It’s only fair I try in exchange for you redeeming me.” Joking words, but she heard the serious edge beneath them.
She met his eyes. “We’re a good influence on each other.” Against all odds, combining their questionable impulses and combative natures had a net positive effect.
On them, at least. A certain werewolf pack might disagree.
“Long may it remain so.” Astaroth kissed her lingeringly, then reached down to notch his cock in place. She was incredibly wet, and he slid in slowly but easily. When their hips were flush and he was seated as deep as he could go, Calladia let out a shuddering breath. She was stretched tight around him, full in a way that made her nerves spark.
Like the rest of him, his dick was almost too much to handle. Almost. Calladia had always liked to dance at a cliff’s edge, and like every other risk she’d taken with him, this one paid off.
She rocked her hips. “Come on,” she whispered. “Fuck me.”
He dropped his mouth to her ear. “Make love to you,” he corrected.
Before she could question that, he started moving, and all thoughts fled her head. He pumped into her with sure strokes, taking his time. His back flexed under her fingers, and when she trailed them down to his ass, every thrust turned the muscles there to iron.
She grew wetter, her body loosening to accommodate him. Soon she was desperate for more, harder, faster, but even as she sank her nails into his back, Astaroth maintained the same maddeningly moderate tempo. This was where his immortality became evident. His control was preternatural, and that steadiness allowed her to relax even more. This wouldn’t be over before she was ready.
Calladia let go and let herself feel.
She mouthed at his neck, licking up the sheen of sweat, then bit down. He groaned and returned the favor, kissing down her jawline to her neck. His tongue pressed against her flickering pulse, and then his teeth seized the delicate skin there. The prick of pain mixed with the pleasure, intensifying it.
Calladia rocked her hips, trying to get him to speed up. When he didn’t react, she bared her teeth. “Hurry up, damn you.”
His laugh ghosted against her cheek. “Still so impatient.”
Calladia bucked up hard enough to throw off his rhythm, then took advantage of his distraction to roll him over onto his back. She mounted him like a warrior queen and began riding him in an aggressive rhythm.
“That’s how it’s going to be?” he asked, voice gone guttural. His fingers dug imprints into her hips. “You want to fight me for it?”
“Mm-hmm.” She raised her hands over her head, twining her fingers together as she snapped her hips.
Astaroth’s eyes dropped to her breasts. “Gorgeous,” he said, reaching up to squeeze them. He toyed with her nipples, then pinched hard enough to make her gasp and lose her rhythm.
Astaroth grabbed her hips and flipped her. “Two can play that game,” he said as he drove back into her.
Calladia laughed and clawed at his shoulders. “Cheat.”
“That’s the secret to winning.”
They rolled over and over, kissing and groping as they fought for supremacy. At one point they nearly toppled off the bed, saved only by Astaroth’s quick reflexes and powerful arms. He dumped her onto her belly in the middle of the mattress, and before Calladia could turn over, he was on top of her, erection nudging between her thighs.
He bit down on the juncture between her neck and shoulder like a wolf pinning down his mate. “Stay,” he growled against her skin, and a shudder raced down Calladia’s spine. She nudged her ass up, silently begging.
Astaroth shifted until he was kneeling between her spread legs, then tucked a hand under her torso and lifted her onto hands and knees. The hot, slick head of his erection notched inside her, and then he slammed in hard and fast.
Calladia cried out. “More,” she demanded when he stilled. “More!”
Astaroth gave her more. He gripped her hips and pumped into her from behind, striking impossibly deep each time. Every thrust threatened to knock her up the bed, so Calladia braced her hands against the mattress.
Astaroth gripped her hair and tugged her up until she had nothing to hold on to but him. She looped her fingers behind his neck, arching her spine.
“Mine,” he said as he thrust up into her. “You’re mine, Calladia.”
“Same,” she panted. She was just as possessive and bloody-minded as him, and as far as she was concerned, this demon belonged to her.
They set a rhythm together, hot and hard. The backs of her thighs pressed against the tops of his, and his chest flexed against her back. He kissed the side of her neck, and then his hand slid down her stomach and settled between her legs to strum her clit.
“Oh!” Calladia gasped. Each swirl of his fingers sent lighting strikes of pleasure through her. Her clit was the center of a gathering hurricane, and her inner muscles tightened in preparation for the storm.
Astaroth rubbed and rubbed, thrusting up in a rhythm that was making her see stars. “Are you going to come for me?” he asked against her neck.
“Yes,” she panted.
“Good.” His fingers pressed harder, and Calladia whimpered. She was so close, just a little more . . .
The orgasm crashed over her, fierce and fiery. She shouted as her pussy clenched in devastating, uncontrollable pulses, and heat raced over her skin. She bucked in his arms, shaking apart.