Demon Dreams Read online

  Aroused through the pack bond, I bet Quentin has already chased down Samara’s beast. They’re probably in the woods—along with countless others—wildly rutting in wolf form.

  Stafford’s mouth is hot, nearly vicious. The shock of his desire sends bolts of sensation straight to my core. Blood roaring in my ears, my heart pounds as loud as tribal drums.

  Fierce and possessive, Stafford’s eyes lose focus with his last thrust. A hoarse, guttural groan escapes him, as his hips grind against me. He growls my name as we release.

  Stafford rests his forehead against mine. Breathing heavily, I stare at his throat, entranced by his beating pulse.

  I’ve just been fucked against his front door. A swift, mad blur of passion, it was one of the most intense sexual moments of my life.

  My legs shakily slip off him. Still catching my breath, it takes a while for my brain to engage. Stafford holds me upright, otherwise I fear I’d dissolve into a puddle.

  Well, that took the edge off, but we’re not done.

  Not by a long shot.

  Not by a truck load, a fuck load of long shots!

  The Beast Lord’s so damn big, his weight, and size does more than embrace me—it submerges me. I drown in heady male strength—ah, but what a way to go. I giggle as he effortlessly picks me up, slings me over his shoulder, and carries me into the bedroom.

  We laugh like children when he unceremoniously throws me onto the bed.

  “Jesus, Stafford. You’re such a fucking animal.”

  He chuckles. “As are you.”

  I grin because it’s true.

  Talk about stamina. His cock is hard and ready, although he climaxed mere moments ago. Abracadabra! Now that’s what I call magic.

  Chapter 3.

  Stafford stares down at me with hooded eyes. “You OK?”

  “Better than OK,” I breathe, still throbbing with pleasure.

  “That’s good, because I need you, again,” he murmurs, hopping on his bed and climbing on top of me.

  “Mmm.” Slick and aroused, I gasp as he pushes inside.

  “God, you feel amazing.”

  “Mmm,” I repeat, focused on the feel of him.

  “I need you so damn much.”

  Throwing my head back in delight, my fingers fist his hair as he suckles my nipples. When he tilts his pelvis to hit my G-spot, I moan. I give myself to him, I give him everything. Languid, euphoric, I let him ravish me.

  His jaw is tight, his face determined. “Tell me you’ll take me as my mate.”

  I make a show of indecision. “I don’t know,” I tease, but he’s too wound up to enjoy my lame joke.

  “You’re mine.” His pronouncement resonates with power, his inner beast stirs. A surge of lycanthrope energy spills over my shoulders, my chest, arms, torso, and thighs. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, my skin tingles. Intoxicated by his magic, the sound I make is between a whimper and a strangled moan.

  “Mine,” he repeats huskily. “I feel the truth of it. I taste it—smell it. Say you want me, say it. I know you do.”

  Drowning in energy, I give a light laugh to tone down the intensity of the moment. “Yes, I only want you,” I admit. “It’s always been you.”

  His wild eyes blaze with triumph. Power dances along my skin, magic fills my senses. Wholesome and natural, I smell growing things—herbs, apples, rich mahogany, cedar, and pine, along with the warm nurturing scent of freshly turned earth.

  I arch toward him as he takes me in a slow, sensuous rhythm. Erotically tormenting my nipples, he worships my breasts, suckling, tasting—feeding on them. He’s driving me mad!

  Over and over he draws my body to the brink of orgasm, then lets me slide back again. Whimpering and writhing, in desperation I reach between my legs.

  To stop me from touching myself, he quickly captures my wrists, pinning them over my head. My breath shudders in my lungs as I struggle against his iron grip.

  “You’re so mean!” I hiss, but he just chuckles.

  Fuck, his dominance is hot and I’m so, so close!

  I don’t know how long this delicious torture goes on. A moment? An eternity?

  Shamelessly, I beg him to touch me between my legs, to go faster, harder, deeper. I feel myself sliding toward delirium.

  Within me, my beast trots toward his, then licks his wolf’s muzzle in greeting. Her light, wolfy kiss is understated. Their awareness and attraction creates a mesmerizing energy of its own. The fur of Stafford’s metaphysical wolf brushes deliciously against my flesh. Now the Beast Lord is caressing my body, stroking me inside and out.

  In a cross between frustration and intense pleasure, I scream.

  “You like that?”

  “Yes, yes,” I gasp. “Please, don’t stop!”

  Without breaking rhythm, he continues to fuck me hard and deep. Moistening his thumb, he circles and strums my sensitive nub. “Go over for me, Jan.” His seductive command is electrifying. “Come. I need to feel you coming!”

  My hips piston. In a moment of blind sensation, I climax hard. Magic burns through my veins, along with machine gun shots of adrenaline. The air in the room sparks like thunder in a storm cloud. Closing tight around him, my core pulses. My inner wolf yelps, tightens, also releases.

  Cascades of pleasure roll through me.

  “God, you’re so tight, so wet, so greedy,” Stafford growls.

  My entire body throbs. I can’t possibly burn hotter. Stafford swears under his breath, makes guttural sounds as he holds back his own release. His pace slows to a stop, his features look strained.

  His formidable control is about giving me pleasure. I love him for this, but I also want to be the one pleasuring him. Bringing him to the brink again and again, watching his eyes glaze over as he finally loses it.

  Stafford’s a complex man, a puzzle, with thousands of interlocking pieces. What will it take to reduce him to fragments? To take him apart like he does me?

  I want to kiss every rock-hard inch of him. I’m going to shatter his control, then take my sweet time putting him back together again.

  Boneless, trembling with aftershocks, I’m dazed with pleasure.

  Pulling my head back by my hair, Stafford plunders my mouth. Hard as stone, his cock jerks within me. I’m half dead from sexual exhaustion, but his kiss! His all-consuming kiss is like a heart-starting jolt to the chest. It brings me instantly back to life.

  Joined in a delicious dance, his tongue moves with mine. Our kiss is long, slow, and sweet as melted caramel.

  “Christ, I love you.” His voice is deep with desire.

  “Mm. I could kiss you for hours.”

  When I bite his lower lip, drawing blood, we both groan. The coppery taste slips over my tongue, down my throat. Blood magic sings through my soul. A blast of lycanthrope magic sizzles the air around us.

  God, the intoxicating power of him!

  “Is this the mating bond?”

  “Not yet. Soon. This time, we let the power build.”

  I laugh. “If it builds much more my head will explode.”

  Chuckling, Stafford takes his time. Slowly, languidly, he rocks back and forth inside me. He presses kisses to my forehead, my eyes. He dips his head to take my breast into his mouth, this time, tenderly suckling.

  With each exquisite suck, my chest rises, begging for more. His hot breath spikes sensation down my spine. He makes love with long, deep strokes, a gentle rhythm that stirs my soul.

  Pulling back, he focuses on me, studies my face. Our gazes lock, but his open love is more than I can bear. The force of his need for me, the intensity of my own feelings, almost stops my heart.

  It’s so much.

  Too much.

  I close my eyes against such raw intimacy.

  “No, don’t shut your eyes,” he orders in a low, seductive growl.

  My eyes blink open to see him watching me with twin pools of tawny fire. “I need to see you,” he says, “to look at you as you come.”

  I snort. “I�
�ll try, but no promises.”

  His heart-stopping smile melts me. “It isn’t necessary for bonding, but you can do it. Do you feel the magic gathering?”

  “Yes!”

  “It’s even greater than before. This time, we’ll climax at the same moment. Then we’ll be joined forever and always.”

  “Yes,” I agree.

  His beautiful grin is boyishly happy. “My mate.”

  “My mate,” I respond swiftly.

  “Yes.” The word is a promise.

  I watch his lips firm, his eyes darken. God, what a face! All that energy, emotion, and formidable control.

  And he’s all mine…

  Chapter 4.

  Pulling back, he surges forward. His hips slap against me, hitting every nerve ending I have. Pleasure is a waterfall, spilling over my body in waves.

  I stare into his burning gaze. Stafford slows his rhythm, moves in longer, deeper strokes. He rolls his hips, grinding deep. Slick with sweat, primal magic rises from his skin like mist in a storm. Unhurried, he works in and out, gradually building pressure within my molten core.

  I can’t stop moaning.

  His concentration is intense, his look intimate. Stafford watches me as if I’m the most valuable thing in his world. He stirs my heart, makes my soul soar.

  Laughing, I push out from under him. With the confident, fluid movements of the pack Alpha I was in Faery, I quickly reverse our positions. On top now, I straddle his firm, hard body.

  Before he can protest, I fasten my mouth to his, suck his tongue. Reaching back, I close my hand over his cock. Placing him at my entrance, I slowly push down. My hungry core devours every delicious inch of him.

  He gives a soft, sexy growl.

  Sitting up straight, I stare down at him. “You’re not the only Alpha around here,” I observe with a triumphant grin.

  His eyebrows arch. “So I see.”

  Grinning, I start slowly, working him, making his body strain with need. Wild wolf energy hums around us.

  Our lovemaking becomes raw.

  Otherworldly.

  Thick as morning fog, mating magic surrounds us. I quake and cling as I ride him, breathing in his heady male scent. His gaze rakes me possessively. Flushed and aching, arousal continues to coil.

  Stafford brushes my long hair aside so he can massage my tender breasts, tease my nipples. When I bend forward, he nips and suckles them. The heat and feel of his clever tongue makes me beg for more.

  As tough as he is, the Beast Lord trembles with need. Sitting upright, I ride him hard until he almost comes. Then I stop, fondle him with a wide grin. I snicker, pretty sure I just made his eyes cross.

  Ha! Payback’s a bitch.

  When he swears under his breath, I begin moving again, faster and faster. If I were mounted on a horse, I’d be going at a break neck gallop.

  I’m going to destroy his stubborn restraint.

  I move against him, while his thumb continues to strum my throbbing bundle of nerves. My up and down thrusts, and round and round gyrations become increasingly urgent.

  Power spills over us. Writhing and sobbing in ecstasy, wolf energy burns through my veins. My demon craves our magical essence. He wants it. Needs it.

  Must have blood!

  I hold my hair back, exposing the pulse jumping wildly in my throat. “Bite me! Bite me and we’ll come together.”

  “No. I want to watch you come.”

  “Next time, I promise. Taste me, taste me. Then I’ll taste you.””

  “Fuck,” he snarls, as need overwhelms him.

  I knew that would do it.

  Laughing, still riding him, I bend forward so he can nuzzle against my throat. When his hot tongue licks my bounding pulse, preparing my sensitive flesh for his bite, I moan.

  Stafford’s wolf howls as the man takes over. Gripping my hips, he rolls us. On top once more, he traps me with his weight and strength, smothering my protest with a long, rough kiss. Holding me still, pounding with short, rapid strokes, he relentlessly bangs away like a jackhammer.

  My heart drums in my ears like thunder. Our breath changes, slows, thickens.

  He’s as ready as am I.

  Akin to salmon with the imperative need to swim upstream, we seek to be closer. What we feel is more than instinct, more than sexual desire.

  It’s heart to heart.

  Mind to mind.

  Soul to soul.

  My inner wolf licks his wolf’s muzzle, gives him a sharp nip. Stafford’s beast sinks his fangs in my beast’s ruff—holds her, mounts her. His beast’s erection pushes into the dripping tightness of my wolf.

  Just as his inner beast sinks his fangs in my wolf’s ruff, Stafford thrusts deep and stays there. His teeth on my throat, he firmly holds me down, holding me still. Magic swirls around us in a wind of earthy fire.

  Fuck, it’s so damn primal.

  Closing his jaw, the smell of my own blood is a lightning bolt of mind-bending bliss. The Beast Lord bites me, marks me. The instant he sinks his teeth into my neck, we merge, and sink into each other.

  Weremagic flashes through me in excruciating ecstasy. We cry out in unison, riding each other’s minds and bodies like a wave. I seize with convulsions as I release—we release—together.

  At.

  The.

  Exact.

  Same.

  Moment.

  My wolf howls with joy, my demon sings. Inside me as far as he can go, Stafford empties himself, heart, seed, and soul.

  Blood. Flesh. Sex.

  Clutched tightly together, we’re bound by magic. I’m inside his skin, his mind, his memories. Soul to soul, he’s inside me.

  Energy flashes between us like lightning. The scent of blood, sweat, and sex fills the air. The taste of power lingers on my lips and tongue.

  Above all, I feel loved.

  Wildness, heat, and the preternatural strength of his wolf flows through me. I see through the eyes of my own wolf. I feel Stafford’s wondrous, blue-black raven wings. They extend around me, embracing me, protecting me. His wings rest upon me so softly—dare I say, light as a feather?

  Such power! Such ecstasy!

  For a long moment, metaphysically, I regard the new connection we’ve forged.

  Pack bonds are brown as earth. Mating bonds are slim golden threads.

  Brilliant gold filaments join us—head, heart, and soul. More threads couple his beast to my own. Most astonishing of all, I see links from my mate to my inner monster. My demon’s energy entwines with the Beast Lord’s incredible power.

  My inner monster has become magically mated to us equally.

  WTF does this mean?

  My magic, my demon’s magic, the Beast Lord’s magic, all of us together should make three times as much energy, right?

  Wrong.

  Our power has grown exponentially.

  I feel a hundred times stronger.

  Energy from our mating streams through the United Packs via Stafford’s Alpha bond. They must feel as though they’ve been plugged into a global power-grid.

  What do they think of the Beast Lord’s choice of mate now?

  I smirk. They shouldn’t have any complaints.

  Chapter 5.

  Stafford sprawls across the bed like a drowned man pulled from the sea. I’d worry at the sight, but linked as we are, I’m conscious he’s only sleeping.

  God, he must’ve been tired. No wonder—he’s been searching for me day and night for weeks. That and we both nearly fucked each other to death. The storm within him blazed so hot, it must’ve burned him out.

  Beside him, I rest on an elbow, studying my mate.

  I’m stunned by how raw and brutal the bites I’ve given him look. My own bites haven’t healed, either. My demon sees these marks as a sign of triumph. Confirmation of our mutual possession and ownership.

  Claimed.

  Joined.

  Completed.

  Connected till death do us part.

  Stafford is everything I’
ve ever wanted, everything I’ve needed most. He belongs to me in a way that goes deeper than anything I’ve ever known.

  I am his, as he is mine.

  My demon belongs to both of us—unless we belong to my demon?

  There’s a scary thought.

  Surprisingly, my inner monster is sated. For once, he’s content. Utterly satisfied, he doesn’t burn with greedy lust for strong emotion, blood, flesh, violence, death, or sensation.

  The magic of the mating bond is amazing. I loved Stafford before. I admired his Alpha dominance, the confident, capable way he manages the United Packs, and so much more.

  Mating magic is rare and precious, I tingle with its power. Physically, our connection is cellular, including every nerve, vein, and tissue, right to the bone.

  I had no idea what it was to touch him, to know him at the deepest level. Now, I love him even more. With my mate, I can be tender and soft, or savage and brutal.

  We can be ourselves.

  We’ll always understand each other.

  I stroke my fingertips slowly over his chest, over his stomach, drawing lazy circles all the way. His wings rest, soft and transparent before me.

  The Beast Lord is my soul mate. I feel his lust, love, and need for me build as he sleeps. I watch as his body reacts, his heavy erection aroused to peak even before he wakes to open his eyes.

  I can’t resist his full lips. Hungry, I kiss them, lick and nibble.

  “You need me again.” His amused observation slides over me in a mental caress.

  “I do, yes. As you need me.”

  Stafford opens his eyes. With a look reserved for me alone, he fluidly flips me over, parts my thighs. I feel him feel my soft, smooth skin with his hands. The shape of me, my slick heat.

  Hard and hot, he slides home.

  “Yes!” our minds echo as we groan with pleasure.

  The man is inside me—mentally, physically, magically. Being Stafford, knowing what he thinks, how he feels, is new and strange—but also inexplicably familiar.

  I’ll never get enough of him.

  Our need to couple is addictive. It’s madness! We’ve only just finished a sexual marathon, yet desire rips at us like claws. The more we mate, the more we want. It’s a feedback loop, making our newly formed connection stronger.