A Demon's Dark Embrace: An Elite Guards Novel (21 page)

“Not the Guild, you know they’d ‘retire’ me as being compromised as soon as they saw me.” She said retire with air quotes to be sure Ristan had understood her meaning well enough: ‘Retired’ basically meant shot on sight. “I just don’t want to be locked inside a bedroom and left there.”

Adam coughed to hide his laughter as he started to move inside the room, around the arguing couple. Ristan watched him and wondered why he was so uneasy with her asking for her freedom. Why the hell did he feel this twisted need to tell her no?

“I’ll consider it,” he offered as he met her beautiful eyes, knowing he was lying. It was something he knew he wasn’t going to even begin to consider, and if that made him the world’s biggest asshole, so be it. “Now, the pages, get them, please.”

She stared at him for a few moments before she moved into the room, pulling books and throwing them at him.

“Hey,” he said, but she smiled sweetly and threw another at his head until Adam’s laughter caught her attention, and she hurled one at him, too.

“You shush!” she growled as she spun on the Demon. “You! I’ve been a good little prisoner, but you know I was innocent. I know you can feel my emotions, remember? You told me you could, so feel them now!” she said as she threw yet another at him.

“Okay you two, need me to leave for a few moments?” Adam asked with a cheeky grin on his face. “I guess you should probably feed her, too. You’re starting to sound like Synthia and Ryder.”

“Out,” Ristan growled without looking away from Olivia.

“Done,” Adam said, and vanished.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Do we have a problem?” Ristan demanded once they were alone.

“Yes, I’d say we have a problem. I know I fucked up, but being dragged around to help you should buy me at least some redemption! I’ve been a good little prisoner—shit, I even like some of the things we do—but there’s a limit to how long you can keep me. I am not some slave to fulfill every little kinky desire you come up with! I have needs too! Like I
need
to go out and do things. I
need
to have the freedom to choose where I sleep, or where I walk. And I really
need
to choose my own damn clothes!”

He smiled as she ranted, her eyes growing larger and a little brighter as her rage rose. His big body moved towards hers and she refused to back away from him. He smiled, knowing exactly what was about to happen. Pissed off, no holds-barred-fuck-session. His favorite kind, well—one of them.

He slid his hand around the back of her head, grabbed a handful of her gorgeous, silken curls, and tightened his hold on it until he pulled hard enough to steal a moan from her lips. His other hand found her pussy as it slid down the front of her jeans.

“You know what the sexiest thing about you being pissed off is?” he asked as he applied pressure to both her heat and hair. “It’s that you don’t back down from me. You know I could easily kill you, but you still stand your ground. So different than I thought you’d be. I kind of like it.”

She swallowed and moaned as his fingers pressed harder into her silken flesh, while the hand that tugged at her hair worked alongside the other, creating a multitude of sensations that already had that storm building again inside her belly. The sexiest thing about him was that she didn’t know what he would do and once he got an idea into his head, there was no stopping him. It turned her on, and it shouldn’t.

He walked her backwards until she was pressed against an old oak table. He smiled roguishly as he slid his hand out from her heat and with a pulse of power, the old files, books and dust flew off the table with a crashing noise as he used one hand to lift her up without losing his hold on her hair.

“I’m starving,” he growled as her clothes were glamoured away.

Olivia gasped as his fingers came back and started working her pussy. He pushed two inside and pulled them out hard and fast. She trembled at his assault and wondered where the hell that angel on her shoulder was; the one who was supposed to make her tell him no. It was as if the little devil on her right shoulder had attacked the little shoulder angel on her left, tied him up in duct tape, and was even now cheering Ristan on to do bad things that felt entirely too good. It should have been a bad thing, right? Wrong. She loved that little shoulder devil right now.

She spread her legs, giving him better access to fuck her with, and he growled his appreciation. His fingers continued fucking her until he released his hold on her hair and her head rolled back without the added support. His mouth slid down to her already wet pussy and started devouring it even as his fingers fucked her.

“Oh, God!” she screamed, uncaring that they were in the bowels of the catacombs in a room that was covered in dust and shadows. His eyes lifted to meet hers as he sucked, stroked and nipped at her clitoris.

“God isn’t making you scream right now, Olivia, I am,” he growled as he briefly came up for air, then he took a moment to lick and suck his fingers clean, which was almost enough to send her reeling over the edge. His own clothes disappeared and before she could remind herself where they were, he was buried inside of her warmth and she exploded.

“Fucking hell, Liv,” he growled as he watched her fall into the abyss of pleasure. Her back arched and her hands moved to pinch her own nipples. He moved faster; the sound of flesh hitting flesh and their moans were the only noises in the room. His hands gripped her hips, using and leveraging her body how he wanted as he drove deep into her until his own release rumbled through him.

She exploded again and he fed from her, his hunger devouring her orgasm with eagerness. He loved the sensation of feeding from her, the intense desire to never stop and the pureness of her soul tugged at his Demon, which he forced to remain quiet this time. Soon he would let it out to savor a small taste of her soul—just not yet. Not until he could control his need to feed from her emotions. That was the only way he could reasonably be sure his Demon wouldn’t take all of her soul in its greed.

Her body quivered around his cock as he pulled back and lowered his mouth to touch hers. His eyes met hers and found her smiling as he reluctantly slipped out of her warmth. She gasped as his mouth claimed hers in a soul-deep kiss, one that should never have happened. His heart sped up, matching hers as her hands cupped his face and met his kiss head on.

“You drive me insane,” he growled as he glamoured clothing back on them. This time she was dressed in a white cotton baby doll dress with a red sash around her slender hips. He replaced the Keds with a pair of white leather flats and smiled as she looked at her feet as he helped her to stand.

“You forgot something,” she said and waited expectantly.

“No, I didn’t,” he smirked and pointed at the dusty tomes and scrolls.

“I have no panties, no bra either,” she replied as she crossed her arms over her breasts self-consciously.

“I know, because that was only half of what I plan to do to you today,” he answered smoothly; his voice had a deep timbre, filled with confidence.

“What would you do if I said no?” she asked, and he caught the slight tremble of her lips.

“In all of my time alive, I’ve never forced a woman to do something she truly did not want.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “But the first time…” her words trailed off.

“The first time I felt your willingness and though you may have been dreaming of it, you wanted it. I felt it, and you know the truth of it, Liv.”

“My name is Olivia,” she said as she narrowed her eyes on him. “Let’s get the other pages of those files and get out of here,” she said through a tight-lipped pout.

She had been willing and she knew it, but the knowledge that he knew it sucked. Was she really that easy to read? Or did his fingertips answer every question her body had without her needing to speak the words out loud? She nervously cleared her throat.

“You do know that I am not a Barbie Doll, and that this outfit and most of the others are very impractical, especially for places like this.”

“Those outfits might be impractical, as you call it, but they certainly improve the view.” He grinned roguishly. She huffed and expelled a shuddering breath as she moved towards the old tomes, only to be thrown backwards by a ward she hadn’t expected.

Ristan caught her in his arms before she could hit the wall and they both stared at the apparition that was in front of the tomes. A woman stood there, her eyes white as she turned her head to look at Olivia. It was a spell, and a very powerful one, too. Olivia had heard about these types of spells; they were guardian spells used to prevent the archives from falling into the wrong hands.

She stepped closer to the woman, only to have Ristan pull her back.

“Fuck that,” he growled in warning.

“It needs my blood to let me into the files,” she explained calmly.

“Just your blood?” he questioned.

“Watch and be quiet,” she hissed as she pulled a small piece of wood that littered the floor and pricked her finger with it.

She held her finger out and Ristan watched as the apparition touched the blood and then held it to her nose.

“Not quite Human, nor quite Fae, a Witch you are and something hidden,” the woman spoke, as they both tried to listen to her distant voice. “You are pure of heart and pure of soul, come inside and seek what you will.”

She vanished, but the spell would still be in play. “Stay back,” Olivia warned and moved forward through the small round stones she could now see on the floor. She should have been paying attention earlier, not lost in the after-sex glow, which had made her sloppy.

She walked lightly, her eyes on the stones as she stepped over them into the warded area and expelled a shuddering breath. She turned and smiled at Ristan, but his eyes weren’t on her, they were on the shelves that were moving on their own and opening an entire library that was hidden behind the wooden shelves.

“Wow,” she whispered breathlessly, and walked towards it without waiting for Ristan, who was unable to get past the wards.

“What the fuck is this? I’ve never been stopped by any of the wards in the Guild.”

“They’re not just for Fae, but a lot of other creatures, too. This area is one of the oldest sections and the early Witches were afraid of a lot more than those that were visiting from Faery,” she replied without looking at him. “This is weird. The wards here are a lot stronger than any I’ve ever felt before.”

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked, his tone turning angry. “You need to come back,” he warned.

“Afraid I might stay here and not come out?” she teased.

“No, I’m afraid that it’s more than it seems. I’ve never been unable to walk through a ward placed by the Guild. Which may indicate that these ones weren’t placed by the Guild,” he mumbled.

“Then who would have placed them?” she chimed, and turned to look at him.

“Maybe it belongs to the Witches who built it, the same ones that left people in a ritualistic mausoleum to rot,” he snapped, his eyes moving to each corner of the room she stood in. “Get out of there, you’re not safe.”

“Why? Is it because you can’t touch me in here?” she taunted playfully.

“Olivia,” he said impatiently, but she turned around and began to touch a large pile of books that looked ancient.

“Oh my, gosh,” she whispered fervently. “Do you have any idea what these are?” she asked excitedly. “These are actual grimoires! These books were used by the first Witches back in the old country, and then brought here with families and passed down to generation after generation of Witches.”

“Synthia didn’t need a grimoire to cast spells,” he said.

“No, but she needed vellum for a lot of her spells, which is what the pages of these books are made from. Each spell in these has been created from spells handed down since the beginning of our history.”

“Grab them and get what we came for so we can go,” he urged uneasily, his eyes on the ancient-looking books.

“I can’t take them,” she replied as if he was missing a screw or more in his head.

“Why not?” he asked cautiously, unfamiliar with the books—he could feel they were leaking power.

“They’re not mine, and I sure as hell don’t want to be tied to one of them if it decided it wanted to claim me. A grimoire is more than just a spell book. It contains a piece of a soul from every Witch who has ever used it. It’s sacred, so I’m not sure why they would even be locked in here unless someone didn’t want them used. They could be dark magic, but I’ve only heard of a few people ever turning to dark magic. Most Witches that used Grimoires found a balance. They could dabble in the dark arts, but it was easy to get lost in it. Those who got lost normally started turning against their own covens for more magic, which is bad, very bad.”

“Okay, get the hell out of there then,” he growled again, his eyes daring her to argue.

“Fine, but that key could be in here,” she teased with a brilliant smile as she walked out and the room closed behind her.

Chapter Thirty

The great room of Ristan’s home, where they currently sat, was littered with archives and small stacks of papers from the catacombs. Olivia’s mind remained on the old library they’d discovered, and yet that tingling warning itch in the back of brain had yet to dissipate. She’d been inside that section a few times before and that had never happened, no ghost-spelled reaction from the room. No secret room opening up to reveal ancient secrets, just a boring room filled with missing pages from different archives. So why had it been different this time?

Why now? Was it because the Guild had fallen and the other wards were down? It could be. It could be just about anything, though. Some spells on different parts of the catacombs had to do with moon phases, or the planets being perfectly aligned.

Another warning that kept making her brain tingle was that Ristan had requested for her to pull anything that she knew of that pertained to the three original Salem Covens, specifically the fate of the one that had vanished. He had, however, promised her that the information wouldn’t be used to harm the Guild; it was needed as a part of a deal with someone who had promised to help Synthia when she needed it. Olivia was all for helping Synthia, but only if it didn’t harm the Guild in the process. The real problem she was having was that if she was right in her suspicions, they were looking for Kendra’s Coven. Not that she knew it for a fact, but it fit with what she’d found of that Coven, and Kendra was one of the only people before now who had asked for any files related to those Covens. 

“What is this one?” Ristan interrupted her thoughts as he handed her another few pages that looked like they were related.

It was like a jigsaw puzzle since the missing pages hadn’t been placed into the tomes correctly. Whoever had filed them should have been taught how to correctly catalogue them—or they might have been in a hurry and skipped normal protocols.

“This page goes in this one, I think,” Olivia said as she reached over him and pulled out one of the archives. Her breasts, still missing a bra under her dress, skimmed his arm and she swallowed her response to touching him as her nipples hardened and her cheeks flamed. She could see the areola through the white dress. That meant he could see them, too.

His hand lifted from the papers that he’d just set down and his fingers traced the fabric of the dress, his eyes lifting to hers as he made a growling noise deep in his chest that rumbled up. It seemed to have a direct connection to her center, because her pussy dampened with readiness. She swallowed her own moan and did her best to ignore him.

“I smell you,” he said confidently as he pulled her dress up as she continued to concentrate on the task before her. His fingers found her nub and began gently working it; then all hope of working washed down the drain.

She refused to lose the battle of wills they were waging. Of course, his fingers would be the victor, but she was going to pretend he didn’t make her shatter every time he touched her. She leaned back and spread her thighs to allow him further access as she pretended to focus on the paper she held in front of herself. He laughed, and before she could guess his intention, he slid to his knees in front of the couch, and his hot scorching mouth started to work her pussy.

“This…this one goes with that…one,” she whispered huskily as she tried to ignore what his mouth and tongue were doing. He’d cleaned her up the moment they’d returned and now she was going to be in need of a long cold shower.

He brought one finger to her slippery heat and pushed it inside of her until it was buried there, but he pulled it back out as his mouth left her wetness and started trailing kisses over her inner thighs. Eventually, he entered her with two fingers and she allowed her head to fall back against the softness of the couch.

She continued to hold the pieces of old parchment in front of her, refusing to give in. it wasn’t until he added a third finger and sucked on her clitoris that she gave up. His mouth was addictive; his tongue sucking and licking the right places as his skilled fingers filled her until she had to rock her hips to take more was even more amazing.

Papers dropped to the couch as he continued to fuck her with his fingers. She moaned with abandonment as he moved them faster.

“Good girl,” he growled as he pulled his mouth away to watch as he fucked her body with his fingers. His other hand freed his cock, and before she could tell him that they needed to work on matching up the files, he was buried in her pussy. “I can’t get enough of you, my sweet mouse,” he murmured as he picked her up easily, even from his position. He sat on the couch and shifted her on top of him, still impaled on his cock, and his own motions stilled as his eyes held hers. “Ride me,” he whispered and lowered his eyes to where their bodies were joined together.

“I…I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, and he smiled and gave her soft murmurs of encouragement as his hands gripped her hips firmly and moved her up and down on his shaft.

“Male and female were made to fit together. Some more so than others,” he said as he held her body up until only the very tip remained inside of her. He dropped her and she screamed as his cock stretched her body until it molded to fit him perfectly. “Fuck, you feel so good; I could spend eternity here, inside of you.”

“I need to come,” she growled, surprising them both as she lowered her mouth to his and claimed his kiss. She started to move against him and he groaned with need as she controlled the movements—fuck if he wasn’t happy to just let her use him.

She was a little clumsy as she found a rhythm, but it just turned him on more as he helped to steady her. Her movements were unhurried, and every time she slid back down or rocked her hips on his cock, he had to force himself to not take over. Her musky scent and the innocence of her moves were seductive, even to him.

It wasn’t until her eyes met his that he lost it. His hands cupped her face as she pulled back from the kiss and screamed as she exploded around his cock. He wasn’t done, though; he pulled her back to him, his movements slow as he continued to bring her pleasure as he cradled her body with one arm while he held her face with his other.

He kissed her deeply, enjoying the slowness of this escapade. He’d never taken it slow while fucking, and this time there was a connection in the way they moved together, her body against his and his against hers. He kissed her harder, wondering why he needed to kiss her at all. Normally he didn’t lavish kisses on his partners; as a rule, kissing evoked a connection, yet he felt as if he would drown without her kiss.

His mind whirled with what he was feeling, and the new feelings that he was sure he had never felt before. Confusion took over, yet he couldn’t stop taking her slowly and with a tenderness that was still new for him. He wanted to fuck her hard and fast, to dominate her, and yet he liked this slow, leisurely session more than he had ever liked fucking Danu—or any other female, for that matter.

Her hands lifted to her breasts, and instead of removing the dress with glamour, he watched as she pulled it down, revealing her perfect tits, and pinched her own nipples. Fucking hell, she was the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

She came again; this time he cradled her through it and knew he was in serious trouble, because he allowed the Demon to slip out, and nibble at the sweetness that was her soul, his cock buried deep inside of her as she gyrated and cried with her continuous release that was fed by his own feeding. He joined her and was lost to the pureness and deliciousness of his sexy-as-fuck librarian.

When they were a heaping mess of limbs and both struggled to catch air, he should have pushed her away. Instead, he rained kisses over her forehead, neck, and mouth. He felt like he was starving, and she was the only one who could satisfy that hunger.

“The papers,” she whispered between kisses.

“Fuck the papers,” he said softly as he continued to kiss her, high on the powerful sensation of the little bit of her soul that he’d taken inside himself. She was innocent, and he was an asshole. He could sense it now, in her touch and in the pureness of the taste of her soul.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered as she pulled away from him and he was left sitting on the couch with a raging hard cock that begged to stay sheathed inside of her. “I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” he asked, coming back to his senses as the sting of her moving away from him hit home. “Can’t fuck a monster like me?”

“I can’t get attached to you,” she whispered brokenly right before her shoulders shook as tears slid down her cheeks.

Ristan paused as he sat watching her. She adjusted the dress and ran from the room, and he didn’t go after her. Instead, he sat still knowing that if he went after her, he’d end up doing what he had just fucking done. Again. He’d be tender, and allow his emotions to get in the way of what he needed to do. He wasn’t going to allow himself to get attached to her, and he would just have to keep trying to find reasons not to. He damn sure wasn’t going to get attached ever again. Those consequences were too high. 

He glamoured himself clean and dressed, and started picking up papers. “Fucking hell,” he growled in frustration as he stared at the stack of books, scrolls, and papers, then back to the door where the little Witch’s sobs could be heard.

He was an asshole, but in the end, it was for the best that she didn’t want to get attached to him either. He knew he couldn’t keep her, and it was probably time he started thinking of what he would do with her once Lucian’s requests were fulfilled and the relics were found. He wasn’t sure he could hold Danu back if it wasn’t in her interest to do so.

Olivia slid down the bathroom door and buried her humiliated face in her hands. She’d felt a connection to him, and it scared her. He would never want her in a way that she could hope for, and yet she had felt every kiss to the depths of her soul. Every thrust of his cock inside of her body had left a mark.

She’d never experienced anything like this and it terrified her. Fae didn’t fall in love, that much was a given based on the Guild’s teachings, and what if his plans included making her fall in love with him just to torment her? What if that was how he really intended to get revenge, even though he said he’d understood what happened? 

When his fist pounded on the door, she jumped, and somehow made it to her feet. She wouldn’t fall for this dark Demon; she needed to escape him, and if helping him got her a chance at freedom, she’d do it. She opened the door after she’d wiped the tears away and looked him right in the eye.

Ristan stared at her, the defiance in her eyes mixed with the acceptance of what had happened between them. Shit, he wasn’t even sure what had happened himself, but he’d liked it. Too much. He stepped aside and watched as she moved past him to piece together the papers that had been discarded while they’d made love.

His stomach churned, and a cold sweat broke out on his skin as the words he’d just thought got stuck on an endless loop. Made
love
.
Made
…love. Made…
Fucking Gods!
He wiped the sweat from his face on his forearm and shook his head as denial took over his mind. He hadn’t just fucking thought that, no way in hell!

He left before he could do something that he would regret, or say something ridiculous as the emotions ran through him. He sifted outside and let the chill air run through him and clear his head. He needed to get back on schedule and it was time to take the librarian to do as he’d said he would.