Shared by her Demons Page 4

  She smiled as he pulled away, and nodded. “I thought you promised you were both gonna fuck me?” she challenged, mischief running through her. “But all I hear is a lot of talking here.”

  Jaren's grin matched hers. Daelas' chuckle reverberated against her skin as they started to move. Jaren slid out of her a little, then thrust back in as Daelas pulled almost completely out of her ass, just leaving the head of his cock inside her. Then they moved again, in perfect counterpoint to one another, a slow rhythm that had Sage moaning in ecstasy.

  She could feel everything, the two of them taking her to places she'd never been before, and it wasn’t long until she was straining against them. Urging the two men to take her faster, with soft cries and breathy little moans. It was hot and hard, and was going to be over very soon, she realized, as the first tightening of an impending orgasm blindsided her.

  “Oh, god, I'm coming…” she cried out, the shudders of pleasure racking through her as she arched back against Daelas.

  Her hips jerked, first grinding down onto Jaren's cock before pressing back hard against Daelas’, his rigid length impaled deep inside her ass.

  Her loud moans reverberated around the office as her inner muscles locked down like a vice around the two dicks inside her, milking them as she came harder than she could ever remember. Her world went grey around the edges as her heart pounded.

  Her climax, the tightness of her body made tighter by her orgasm, tipped the men over the edge. Their masculine groans mingling as the two thrust into her a last time, their cocks pulsed in unison, shoved deep inside her as they came.

  Sage lay across Jaren's chest as she gradually came to, waiting for her heartbeat to return to normal as shivers of pleasure washed through her. The aftershocks of the incredible orgasm rippling through her as first Daelas, then Jaren, slid from her exhausted and satisfied body.

  “That, little fae, was incredible,” Jaren whispered, shifting her on his lap and enfolding her in his arms. “You're incredible,” he added, kissing her on the tip of her nose.

  She smiled in response, a smile which encompassed Daelas as well, as he offered her his shirt. “Oh, no, you don't get out of it that easily, handsome. You two promised me all night, and all night is what I want!”

  4

  Sage woke slowly, warm and comfortable, curled up in a ball. Funny, but her bed seemed a little firmer than usual, and a bit smaller.

  “I’m telling you, man…” A male voice filtered through her sleepy doze, causing Sage to wrinkle her nose as she cracked an eyelid.

  Yup, that was right. She was still at the club. Blearily she pushed herself upright, the blanket someone had thrown over her slithering to pool at her waist. The air conditioner had been shut off at some point in the night, but still, her nipples peaked from the coolness of the room. A rush of heat came back to her as she recalled them doing the very same thing last night, right before or after one or the other of her lovers had lavished his attention on them. She’d never realized her breasts could be that sensitive.

  Well actually, she hadn’t realized a lot of things until last night. Not the least of which was that she wasn’t frigid, as Marcus had claimed, blaming his shortcomings on her. A small smile played over her lips. Oh, no, after all the attention she’d gotten last night from the two incubi—the two incredibly hot incubi—she wouldn’t believe that one anymore. It’d been a dodgy accusation to start with; he’d swung between accusing her of being a frigid bitch to a slut, only waiting for a man to cock his eyebrow at her for her to go scurrying off.

  There’s one in your eye, Marcus. Amusement filled her. No cocking of eyebrows, just a helluva lotta cock, in every way possible.

  She pushed her hair back off her face as she looked around. Oh, my god, what time is it? Guilt and shame hit her. She’d left Sherri on her own, down in the club without so much as a thought. A glance at the full-length windows across the office told her the club had emptied long ago, the darkness from the other side complete. No flashing strobe lights, no heavy beating of music. It was all quiet. Quiet enough for her to hear the soft conversation going on outside, on the small balcony attached to the office.

  “She can’t be. She’s a fae.”

  Daelas’ voice. She stood and started to track down her clothes on silent feet.

  She could almost hear the shrug as Jaren answered, “So? It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

  “Oh, come on, you can’t count Barnabas and Vale’s mate… She was a goat demon for heaven’s sake!”

  Goat demon? There was such a thing as a goat demon? Sage spotted her underwear beneath the desk and bent down to retrieve it.

  “No, she wasn’t. She just looked like a goat. I think she was a Talos demon. But that’s not the point. The point is, a soul-mate doesn’t have to be a succubus. Thankfully. Bloody tarts the lot of them,” Jaren snorted, his tone laced with disdain.

  Sage frowned as she slipped her underwear on, not bothering with the stockings and suspenders. They’d take too long to put on, and her head hurt too much. She’d just shove them in her bag instead. She knew they were incubi, and she was fairly sure that succubi were the female versions of sex demons. Sounded like the genders didn’t get on too well in their species. She wriggled into her shirt and skirt, looking about for her shoes. No surprise. In her experience, the males and females of any species tended to misunderstand each other. But the next words from the balcony stopped her in her tracks.

  “So, you think Sage is our soul-mate, then?”

  “I think so. I can’t sense what she’s thinking at all. You?” Jaren asked curiously.

  “Nope, nothing…but it’s sexy. And mysterious.”

  Sage blinked. Okay, so they couldn’t sense her thoughts…that was a good thing, surely?

  “It’s as sexy as hell,” Jaren agreed.

  “But just because we can’t read her thoughts doesn’t mean she’s our soul-mate. She could just have some fae mojo thing that stops us,” Daelas argued, still unseen out on the balcony.

  Yeah, what he said. Sage crept a little closer, close enough to grab her shoes from near the door. A one-night stand with a couple of hot men was one thing, but the paranormal equivalent of a shotgun wedding was a totally different matter. “Soul-mate” sounded a shitload more serious than a quickie wedding that could be sorted by just as a quickie divorce. It was more like “until death us do part,” and possibly beyond.

  She didn’t wait to hear what they were going to say next, shoving her feet into her sandals and grabbing her bag from where it lay on the floor beside the couch. She headed for the door. It was time to pull her disappearing act before they decided to march her down to the demon judge or something.

  Thankfully, the corridor outside was deserted, and Sage fled down the stairs as though her life depended on it; she’d heard about demon bonding ceremonies and the like. It didn’t make for easy reading, and she was fairly sure it was hazardous to your health if you were a non-demon.

  She poked her head through the door into the club, searching for a way out. The main entrance would be long since shut and locked, she was sure of that. Movement at the bar caught her eye and she smiled, recognizing the bouncer on the door last night.

  “Which way is out?” she asked sweetly, hoping he didn’t go skitz on her and call his bosses from upstairs.

  Some of her desire to flee must’ve been apparent on her face because he jerked his head toward the door at the back of the bar. “Staff entrance,” he grunted. “Hurry up, before I lock up.”

  “Gotcha. Already gone. Thanks.”

  She slipped past him on swift feet, hoping she didn’t look quite as disheveled as she felt. Perhaps if she kept moving he wouldn’t notice her clothing was definitely in disarray and her legs bare, possibly working out what she’d been up to with his bosses in the office.

  Ha! He works here, so what else would he think I’ve been doing, shut up in an office with two men who virtually oozed sex? She nibbled her lip as she pushed ope
n the back door, emerging into the early morning air, in an alleyway behind the club. The darkness of night was just beginning to pale to the faint light of dawn, and at the end of the alley, she could see the cabs were all still out and about, touting for business. Her heels tapped out a rapid beat as she headed for the road to look for a ride home.

  Daelas leaned on the rail of the small balcony and breathed deeply as he considered Jaren’s words. Even the air felt sharper, somehow more alive this morning, his senses razor-sharp instead of sluggish with boredom, as they had been recently. He always felt better after taking a woman to his bed, but this was beyond that. He felt invigorated.

  He turned his head slightly and looked at Jaren.

  “You think she is?”

  Jaren looked out over the city skyline, his posture a mirror of Daelas’s. He then nodded, a slow movement of his head. He turned slightly, looking directly at Daelas. The need and longing there took his breath away; he’d never realized Jaren was so lonely. He’d thought his troublemaker friend was happy with his lot in life, but the emotion rising off him like the scent of an expensive aftershave, told a different story.

  “I want her to be, I think I need her to be,” Jaren admitted finally, his voice low. “I’ve had enough of this…all this. The endless hunting, the searching. Meaningless sex with biddable women. I can’t tell what Sage is thinking, what she’s going to do next. It’s exciting, new. Don’t tell me you don’t agree,” Jaren added, pushing off from the balcony and turning to go back in.

  Daelas stood upright, rubbing a hand along his stubble covered jaw. He did agree. There was no question of that. A couple of times in the night she’d surprised him, like making a move neither of them expected, or taken the initiative, whereas they were used to women acting passively while they waited for the next command or prompt. But was it just something new? A woman who they couldn’t control? Or was Jaren right—that she was their destined soul-mate?

  “Shit!” The expletive from inside the office was heartfelt and uttered violently. A lifetime’s worth of frustration in one small word.

  “What?” Daelas turned instantly, taking two short steps to join Jaren inside. “What’s wrong…” He trailed off, not needing the answer to that question.

  The office was empty. Their little fae had done a bunk. “Shit!” he murmured, echoing Jaren’s sentiment as he rubbed his hand over his bare chest.

  Inside, around his heart, what felt like a thousand tiny ribbons, tightened, robbing him of breath for a moment as a sense of loss surrounded him. Bewildered, his eyes met Jaren’s, then flicked down to where the other incubus was doing the exact same thing, his large hand over his own heart.

  “You feel it too?”

  “Yeah.” Now, of all times, Jaren returned to his usual, less than eloquent self. “Convinced now?”

  Daelas nodded, a grimace on his face as he strode over to the other side of the office, heading for the small bathroom and dressing room.

  “Get dressed, we need to find her…and fast.”

  It’d been a long, slow Sunday, the sort of day that Sage liked. She hadn’t arrived home from the club until about half past six, avoiding the gaze of the guy from the third floor as he left for his early morning shift, convinced he and everyone else knew what she’d been up to all night. Not that it made a blind bit of difference, she told herself firmly. She was an adult, she could do as she liked as long as it wasn’t illegal. Pleasure like that should be illegal, though. She could still feel her body humming with it now, nearly twelve hours later. She’d never had that sort of a rush after sex, with any guy, and especially not with Marcus.

  She moved lazily, uncurling from her small ball on the sofa for a full-body stretch that had her tight tee stretching over her bust. She hadn’t bothered to get dressed properly after her shower this morning; she never did on Sundays. It was her chill out day, one where she didn’t bother going out, instead getting her laundry done and catching up with her reading on the sofa. So this morning she’d just pulled on a faded tee and some yoga pants, before going about her usual Sunday routine.

  She was just about to get back to her book and dive into the next chapter when the doorbell rang—a shrill demand for attention that was totally unwelcome. Her eyes narrowed as she looked up. No one bothered her on Sundays, because they knew it was her “me time.” She opened the book again, determined to ignore it, but the bell rang again, the shrill note longer than before, as though whoever it was knew she was ignoring it and was purposely leaning on the button.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she hissed, marking her place in the book before putting it down to head for the door. “Whatever it is, it better be good,” she threatened under her breath, her feet silent on the hall carpet.

  She opened the door, her eyes widening as she recognised the tall male figure that stood there. Marcus. Instinctively, her stance became wary as she looked at her former fiancé. The one she’d dumped after finding him in bed with the blonde music student from two doors down, who’d then claimed it’d been her fault he had, that Sage was frigid, and that he’d needed a “real woman.”

  “What do you want Marcus? I’m busy,” she said bluntly, not opening the door fully. Hopefully, he’d get the hint and leave.

  “Sage. I wasn’t sure you’d be in. How are you?” He smiled as soon as he saw her; his overused, well-oiled charm cracked up to the maximum.

  “You knew I’d be in Marcus. I never go out on Sundays. What do you want?” she repeated bluntly, her fiery glare wandering over his face as she waited for an answer.

  There’d been a time when she’d loved him more than she’d thought it possible to love anyone. Her heart had shattered into a thousand pieces when she’d found him in bed with Julia, a heartbreak so complete it’d been a long, slow road to recovery, putting her heart and her broken confidence back together. A process which had been completed last night, in the arms of her demon lovers. A fact she hasn’t realised until now, as she looked on, wondering what the hell she’d ever seen in a jerk like Marcus.

  Irritation flashed in his washed-out blue eyes, slightly red around the edges. Drinking did that to a man; it was no doubt responsible for the slight sagginess around his jowls and midriff as well.

  “How’s Julia?” she asked sweetly, sickly sweet. “You two getting on well these days?”

  “I know what you are,” Marcus blurted out, watching her face like a hawk for a reaction.

  The bottom dropped out of Sage’s stomach. He knew. He knew about her fae blood. He could’ve meant a thousand different things with that, but she knew he didn’t. He knew she was a fae. Trying hard to hide her shock, she gave him her best “blank look.”

  “Bully for you. You’ve figured out the differences between little girls and little boys. Now, if that was all you wanted, I have things to do,” she said, starting to close the door.

  It’d taken a full day to track her down, a fact that weighed heavily on both men’s shoulders. Now that they’d found their soul-mate, the need to claim her, to make her their own, was relentless. It gnawed at Daelas’ insides as he sat in one corner of the cab, watching the streets pass outside with a scowl on his face.

  Why had she run? If Knuckles hadn’t been right behind her and seen which firm the cab she’d gotten into belonged to, they’d have been sunk. Without any idea where she was in the city, or even her last name, it would’ve been like searching for a needle in a haystack. A very large haystack. A shudder rocked his big, lean body. They would’ve been reduced to either combing the city to try to catch her aura, or having to wait until she came to the club again. Something Daelas was sure wasn’t going to happen again soon.

  The cab slowed and pulled up to the kerb. Jaren was out the door, looking up at the small apartment block before Daelas could utter a word, leaving him to deal with the driver.

  “You’re sure this is the place you dropped her off?” Daelas asked, the serious tone in his voice indicating the driver better not be leading them on a wild-g
oose chase.

  The guy flashed him a nervous glance, as though there was something about Daelas that made the driver want to squirm out his seat and run for his life.

  The man ducked down, looked quickly at the sign on the side of the building. “Yeah, this is the place. ‘Apartment 4a,’ she said, if that helps you any…” he trailed off, holding his hand out. His expression not changing, Daelas handed him a few notes, sliding his wallet back into his pocket as he climbed from the cab.

  “Apartment 4a,” Daelas announced, pausing as a wave of sickness washed over him. The green look on Jaren’s face said he was feeling it too. “Sage—” They both broke into a sprint for the block doors.

  The two demons sped up the stairs, the sound of their pounding feet loud in the stairwell. Daelas’ heart hammered loud in his chest, his stomach coiling in nausea and fear. Next to him Jaren stumbled, a look of pain on his face as he clutched his chest. Instinctively, Daelas reached out and hooked a hand under his friend’s arm, hauling him to his feet as they ran. The only thing that would affect them both like this was because of Sage—something bad was happening to their mate.

  Their worst fears were confirmed as they burst onto the fourth floor landing. All but one of the doors were firmly shut. The sort of shut that said, “The occupants haven’t seen a thing, officer.” Inside the one that was open however, there was a struggle going on. All they could see was the broad back of a male as he backed someone else, a woman, in through the open doorway. Not just someone, Sage. Even though Daelas couldn’t see her he knew it was Sage, a familiar buzzing settling in the back of his mind.

  “Holding out on me, weren’t you, you little slut? I know all about fairies…all about dancing naked and having orgies.” His voice, laced with hatred, was interspersed with sounds of a large fist hitting flesh and the tearing of cloth that filled the small landing. “I figure you owe me a couple of years’ worth of that fae lovin’, you frigid little bitch!”