Hell On Heels(39)

"Fuck me," I whispered so softly I almost didn't hear it.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" His delight in my foul mouth was contagious. . .and I liked it. It was freeing and sexy.
"I said fuck me. Now."
"Well if that's what the lady wants. . ."
His lips captured mine as he sheathed himself fully inside me with a guttural moan. The pain was sharp and intense. I cried out and his body froze.
"Shit, did I hurt you?" He was torn. His Demon instinct to take exactly what he wanted was so close to the surface, but the man who loved me would wait. I was suddenly glad he was older. How much older was a discussion we would have when my brain functioned properly again. In about a year.
I relaxed my body and expelled my breath. The pain slowly morphed into something so magical tears threatened. "I'm okay," I said. "Better than okay. Please, please don't stop."
He gauged my expression for truth and clearly saw what he was looking for—and then all bets were off. With a power only a Demon possessed, he took me in ways that words were inadequate to describe. The slap of our bodies, the moans, the kisses, the nips and the sheer speed of the motion was otherworldly.
I begged and muttered incoherent words as riotous colors ripped across my vision. My body, mind and soul became one with his. It was more than sex—more than making love. It was like our essences mixed and neither one of us ended or began without the other.
"Look at me," he hissed. "Watch me. Watch what you do to me."
Never had I felt more vulnerable and alive as I did in this moment.
"I see you and I love you," I said breathlessly as the speed of his thrusts increased to inhuman levels. My body gripped his like a vise and the beginnings of the mac daddy of orgasms started low in my belly. Our coupling bordered on violence and I realized that was on my part more than his. I wanted him deeper and harder and just more. He obliged.
"Come with me," he said as he took my lips in a kiss I would never forget. "Now," he demanded.
I did.
He was right.
I would feel him inside of me for eternity and I didn't want it any other way.

Chapter 15
 
Baseball rocked and Earth sucked.
“Lizards smell with their tongues.”
“What?” I was getting exasperated. That was at least the tenth piece of useless information Myrtle had passed on in the last hour. “Wait, is that even true?” I asked as I checked my cell phone to see if the battery was dead. Why hadn’t Hayden or Stella called me yet?
“Yep,” Myrtle said.
“How do you know?” I countered as I opened and began to unpack my suitcases in my new room, in my new house, in my new world, with my new family.
“Because I can shift,” she muttered.
“Back up.” I laughed. “You can shapeshift into a lizard?”
“Yep.” She grinned and shrugged.
“And how does that work out for you?”
“Not so good.” She pushed her newly bobbed hair behind her ears. Earlier I'd chased her for an hour and wrestled her to the floor so I could give her a makeover. Carl finally held her down while I had my way with her hair. I snipped and dyed for two hours. She bitched and moaned the entire time. No surprise to me, but clearly a humongous surprise to her, she was beautiful—too skinny, but beautiful.
“People don’t really like lizards so much,” she continued, still playing with her new hair. “They usually scream and occasionally try to kill me.”
“Hell forbid.” I giggled. “Can you shift into anything else?”
“Yep,” she said as she smiled and exited my room before I could pry her secrets out of her.
“You suck,” I yelled after her and heard her chuckle as she went down the stairs.
I sighed and tossed the t-shirt I was refolding back into the suitcase. I flopped back on my four-poster bed and stared at the ceiling. I wasn’t so sure about this Earth thing yet. I glanced around the room and laughed. My dad had replicated my room from the palace down to the stuffed animals I'd had as a child. It was embarrassing but sweet. Thank Hell he didn’t replicate the palace too. That might have been a little conspicuous. Instead we were living in a lovely old farmhouse. Actually it was more like a stately old Southern manor.
My father chose Kentucky for our destination—to be more specific, Eden, Kentucky. I told him I wanted to live someplace beautiful and be close enough to visit my cousin Astrid. I’d never seen fall or winter in my life. Hell was warm and balmy all year round. I couldn’t even begin to imagine snow. I’d seen it on T.V. and in the movies, but I wanted to touch it and catch it on my tongue.
The other consideration had been language. Demons and Angels were hardwired from birth to understand and speak every language—even dead ones. I couldn’t even imagine how limiting it must feel to only speak one or two. I loved speaking French and Russian, but English was my favorite language. So I requested an English speaking country. I wanted the United States. The Americans seemed to get in the most trouble and have the most fun. Even though I was a kind of good girl, I was still a Demon and I much preferred spicy to bland.