I raked my nails down his back.
He growled into my mouth, and his control fled altogether, taking mine with it.
We rolled off the couch, Emeric falling to the ground onto his back to protect me, and then over again until I was pinned under him. He lifted a big arm and shoved a table leg to keep from crowding my head, and then he was ramming his cock home. His hips smacked against my flesh, the sound competing with my moans of delight. He rose up, his hands fitting to the backs of my knees and spreading me wide. His eyes hooded with pleasure, he massaged my clit with one hand as his cock continued to plunge in repeatedly.
The dim light glowed against his glistening, perfect chest and strong shoulders. His muscles flexed as he thrust. His fingers worked, unraveling me little by little.
I reached up for him, and he bent to me, keeping his fingers on my clit, trapping his hand between us. I pulled him to my lips, and the world dropped away. Light danced behind my eyelids in a kaleidoscope of colors. My heart surged, not at all in league with my brain.
“Jaelyn,” he murmured softly against my lips. Longingly. As though the name itself was divine.
One hand trapped between us, his fingers still working me, his cock still plunging, he threaded the other behind my head and held me tight. The hold was dominant. Possessive. His kiss was desperate.
I fell apart.
An orgasm exploded through me, ripping me to bits and scattering the pieces. He groaned, shaking over me, coming inside of me. In all my life, I’d only allowed him to do that. I trusted it was still the same for him.
With a last thrust, he pulled his arm from between us and sank down onto me, lightly shaking. It matched my trembling.
“I remember it being exactly that good but had forgotten all the details,” he said between reverent kisses. “The details make it better.”
“I still hate you, and I still plan to try and leave.”
“I know. But about that…”
He threaded his other hand under me, and I held onto his back, knowing he planned to move us to a more comfortable location before we started again. He got up and lowered onto the couch, still inside me, pulling my head down to rest on his shoulder as he held me.
“I wanted to explain something now that I should’ve explained last time,” he said, his voice rumbling in his chest. “When you belong to an organization, it’s less like being owned than it is like being in a wolf pack. Or on a baseball team. Every demon employed by me has undergone the same ritual you did. In exchange for their allegiance, the organization—I—protect them. If anyone acts against them, it is my duty to use the organization’s resources to avenge them. If a demon does not belong to an organization, they are on their own. They must protect themselves.”
“Those demons made a choice to join your organization. People who play baseball sign up for it. I didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t. And one of the reasons I killed the last prince was for doing shit like that. You don’t fuck with kids. You just don’t. Not to mention he was dabbling in other shit that was weakening the outfit. I found a lot of loose threads when I combed through our books. All but one of those threads I have since tied up. The demons in your position were given three options: join as an active member of this organization, transfer to another if I could arrange it, or be set free.”
“All but one.”
“Yes. I met you five years ago to see if you’d manifested any power. I was not expecting…what happened.”
The immediate connection. The incredible passion. The whirlwind night of mindless fucking. The hard morning when I’d learned about a world I hadn’t really known existed. There’d been that half-remembered ceremony, of course, and Dad’s drunken ramblings, but my reality had been so far removed from any kind of fantasy, even a dark one.
The truth had been hard to bear. I’d known something about me was off, but I’d figured it was because of my stepmom’s neglect, not because I was a demon.
“Five years ago, I didn’t explain your situation very well,” he said, and I could hear the genuine remorse in his voice. “I was too excited about finding my soul-mirror in the most unlikely of places. I forgot that you didn’t know anything about this life. That you wouldn’t be as excited as I was. By the time I came to my senses, you’d used magic you didn’t even know you possessed to dislocate a guard’s shoulder. You were gone.”
“You could hardly expect me to stay with a guy who’d just told me that he owned me and planned to shackle me and use me for my effect on his power…”
He chuckled softly. “Hindsight. It showed your potential that you were able to get out. I had hoped you would come back to talk. To at least inquire about your magic. To ask for training. To fuck.” He tensed. “I’ve missed you something fierce, Jaelyn. No one could take the edge off. For you either, I know. But apparently giving you space and sending notes with my groveling, or commanding, or pleading, or…I can’t remember what the other year was…”
“Arrogance, I think.”
“Right, yes. That sounds about right. I didn’t want to force you. I wanted to give you your space. When none of those worked, I tried this route.”
“And if it hadn’t worked?”
“I would’ve expected your…very angry…visit when you found out I’d kept you from leaving.”
I bristled with anger. He traced circles across my skin.
“And now I will explain something else,” he said. “Without my protection, you are at the mercy of the other organizations, or rogue profit-seekers who would wish to exploit you. Without the means to magically defend yourself, you’re…well…fucked. You especially. If you went to Oregon, the magic binding you to my organization would fail. It would be stripped from you. We’ve devised a way to fix that, but you haven’t received that…patch, we’ll say. All someone would need to do is follow you, force you outside of the region’s protective bubble, and forcibly bind you to their organization.”
“What? How is that okay?”
“It isn’t. It’s about as not okay as binding an eight-year-old. And it’s incredibly rare because anyone powerful enough for that kind of interest is either already in an organization or is at the center of a ‘if I can’t have her, no one will’ war. It's juvenile but it's mostly how it goes. You, however…are a bit different. You're half-mortal. You were unwanted by a prestigious family. You grew up with humans."
“Then why would anyone want me in their organization?”
“Because you have the power level of a princess.”
“Right but…why doesn’t that fall under ‘if I can’t have her…’?”
He sighed softly. “There are rules in the human world, and because we are living among them secretly, we color within the lines. Mostly. We stick to causing the kind of trouble we can get away with or buy our way out of. I just explained the rules with demons, as they are. But you don’t fit into either society, and you’ve been previously rejected from an organization.”
“You mean as a baby? That counts?”
“Yes. So you’re…a wild card. No one would know how to treat you. Other than with disdain. You would be used, and no one would stop it.”