Chained to the Devil’s Daughter (Mating the Elements #1)

10

Searra

W Ith my ear flat against Ash’ren’s chest, I heard his heart beat steadily and I knew it was for me. Tucked safely in the arms of my best friend, time didn’t exist. Nothing could fracture the bubble shielding our gentle sway in the middle of my room.

“If you’ve ever. . .”

“No!” I shouted, a tad louder than a whisper. I slammed a hand over my mouth. Ever, Never was a dumb children’s game of dares that we’d made up long ago. Needless to say, we used it to serve naughtier purposes as we got older.

His chest vibrated with mirth, and he tipped my chin up, pressing our grins together for a silly kiss.

“I knew you’d forget your indoor voice.” He tugged my little braid, a style I’d taken to wearing as a girl. It’d fallen out of my favor when I reached puberty, until deciding I rather liked his attentions after all. “Let’s take this outside.”

“The garden?” I tried to keep my gaze locked on his, but a pang of grief lured it over his shoulder to his broken wing. Our nightly excursions to the Soul Springs and the Fyran Dam were behind us. Because of me.

If he noticed my wayward glance, he didn’t show it. “Get your boots on.”

I darted to the closet that was as large as the guest suite Ash’ren was supposed to be asleep in right now. Slipping on a pair of boots with hardy soles, I returned to an empty room.

My climbing was rusty. When I neared the bottom of the dragoncherry tree, Ash’ren helped me dismount. My feet hit the ground at last and I peered up at my devious demon, who nodded with an impressed arch of his brow. So ridiculous, the way my heart and tummy conspired against me.

No words were needed as we quietly picked our way through the private garden. A rustling in the shrubbery caught my attention, the twitch of a flaming tail that blended in with the bellflowers. It was only a stray mew searching for the saucers of cream I left strewn around the garden.

An ornamental gate marked the end of the royal gardens with a gap between it and Hell’s pocket of wild Flamewoods. Ash’ren peered around suspiciously. I sent him a quizzical look as I unlatched the gate, but he didn’t speak until we’d crossed the yard of grass into the trees.

“You should place a sentinel on that gate, Firefly.”

“Then how would I sneak out with my lovers?” I batted my lashes, giggling when he growled. He pinched either side of my waist and I hiccupped to swallow a yelp.

The Flamewoods were a magnificent sight to behold this time of year. It was early frost and the trees were preparing for hibernation. The flaming forest was normally a discordant array of rigorous reds and oppressive oranges. Now their flames were a harmonious mural of pastel pinks, vivid violets, and the calming glow of rose gold.

Unlike our beloved copse of trees, the true Flamewood Forest kissed the Lavalet Depths. They drank lava straight from the ocean, making their flames so bright during Inferno season that no human retinas could handle the sight for longer than a breath. Even for our little slice of the Flamewoods, frost was the only season for humans to visit.

With no path to follow, I laced my fingers through Ash’ren’s. He ducked below branches and held them out of my way, stomping out any stray flames of questionable color. We were nearing the clearing when a sizable patch of orange licked up the side of a tree.

Ash’ren made a sound in the back of his throat. He motioned for me to be still and studied the offending fire from an arm’s length away. One moment it was there, and the next, it was gone, little gray flecks floating to the ground.

“Oh!” I yelped, my hands flying to my face before I turned to Ash, who looked extremely pleased with his hands in his pockets. “Fancy new flames. Fancy new tricks.”

“Charming, eh? Does it make your panties wet?”

“Rings, you’re cocky, aren’t you?” I said with a burst of laughter, pushing past the smug demon.

Arms wrapped around me, hauling me back until I collided with his broad chest. His breath was warm on the shell of my ear, followed by a long lick of his forked tongue. A straining erection pressed hot against my spine.

“You tell me.”

The heat in my cheeks had nothing to do with the wildfire surrounding us as he nipped my earlobe and backed away, his hand finding mine again. He walked backward into the clearing with a smolder to put the woods to shame.

“Why yes, that’s definitely a cock. I think.” I pursed my lips, feigning innocence. “I’m not versed in that area.”

Ash’ren snorted. He stopped short and yanked, so I smacked hard against his boulder-like torso. Black flames bled from his lascivious grin.

“I could teach you a few verses, princess.” His wide body swallowed mine, his voice a murmur against my skin. “But I’d rather hear you sing.”

My breath shuddered, my legs magically transforming into noodles when his tongue connected with the column of my neck. His hand snaked into my hair and tugged my braids where they connected to scalp. I moaned like an inexperienced maiden when he forced my head back and ravaged my mouth with that flames-damned forked tongue.

Oh, rings, I couldn’t stand with these blasted noodles for legs! I stumbled and he pressed forward. Tree bark scratched through my linen gown. His intimidating form pressed harder, trapping me, but escaping was nowhere on my mind. My jaw slackened, wanting his tongue deeper, wanting to taste any inch of his body that he was willing to feed me.

Frantic, my groping hands found purchase on his tight rear, and I was living for the guttural groan it pulled from his throat. A thick thigh shoved between mine. I fussed with my skirts, needing his skin on mine, seeking to soothe my aching clit with the friction his thigh promised.

“Firefly.” There was desperation in his tone. I wasn’t the only one struggling to breathe. “I want to respect your wishes, but. . .”

“Hmm?” Lost in the heat, my fettuccine leg lifted itself around his hips and jerked. His stiff length crashed against my burning core.

“Searra!”

His panic gave me pause and I forced my consciousness to tether within my horny brain. Respect? I didn’t want his respect. I wanted him to use me, to slam me against the itchy tree trunk by my neck and fuck me like a dirty secret. To shove his tail so deep down my throat I cried while he fucked my poor asshole as my pussy begged and begged to sleeve his ribbed cock.

But those weren’t the wishes he wanted to respect. We’d agreed to take things slow. His dripping black pupils swirled with barely contained rapture, promising me mind-bending pleasure.

The moment froze around us like the caps of ice that sealed the dormant volcanoes between Fyre and Hydra. Ash’ren’s muscles were so taut, that a single breath of encouragement would tip his scales. With one simple nod, he’d be buried so deep inside me I’d feel ropes of cum all the way in my lungs.

I wanted it. I wanted it so blazing badly, but the dark shadow in my heart reminded me of all the ways I differed from the Searra in his memories. I couldn’t risk allowing him to feel he was tricked into loving a ghost.

I broke our gaze and released my grip on the finest ass in Hell.

A whoosh of air breezed over my head. Ash’ren’s body relaxed. I started to apologize, but he was already holding me close, peppering my widow’s peak with gentle kisses.

“Dance with me, princess.”

He scooped me into his arms, smiled brightly as though nothing had happened, and carried me over a patch of warm-hued flames into the clearing. When he gently let me down, brown leaves with amethyst veins crinkled under my boots. He bowed with a dramatic flourish, and I matched his energy with an exaggerated curtsy.

We held each other tightly but without urgency, our hands loosely clasped. Our bodies fell into step with the Flamewoods’ chorus, the three of us speaking a language soul-deep in our bones. Deep, rolling toad calls played bass, while crickets chirped tenor, and the blazing trees provided an ambiance of crackling firewood.

We must’ve been swaying around the dry patch of land for a while because other night creatures went about their business with barely a glance our way. Salamanders with minty flames scurried over rocks. The first fyrefly of the night zoomed by, the turquoise flame on its tiny booty sparking and disappearing in a flash.

A vital piece of myself slammed into place. I was whole.

“Ash?”

“Yes, glow worm?”

I hadn’t meant to say his name. There was too much to say, none of it enough. Too much time between us and none at all.

I stayed silent, and he seemed to understand. He kissed the top of my head, and the very landscape came alive. Mauve flames six inches high circled us, casting his brick red skin in violet, his conduit lines a transfixing gold. The very land of Fyre was granting us its blessing.

I burst into giggles.

“Do you remember—” I started, but his rumbling laugh cut me short.

“It scared the shit out of you.”

“In my defense, it’s one thing to be told the ground below one’s feet is sentient, it’s another to be saved by it.”

“Bah! You didn’t need saving. It was only a little fire.” He gave me a boyish grin, but his canines framed his lip in a way only a predator could manage. “I had a handle on it.”

“You almost killed me!”

“No way! You just needed a little motivation. I’d never have burnt you. You were too fast. Besides…” There was no trace of boyishness left as his hand roamed below my waistline to squeeze my behind. “If you’d been burnt, I’d have soothed your sore ass with my tongue.”

“How noble of you. What a…” I paused. “Gentleman.”

His hand vanished, only to land with a resounding smack on my right cheek despite the layer of fabric. “What have I told you about calling me that?”

“That it’ll earn me a rough buttering.”

Ash’ren stilled, his lip twitching like he wanted to laugh. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to laugh or take me seriously and fuck away the grief, wishes be damned. He recovered swiftly, lacking my indecision. His hand dropped mine. He supplanted me with a firm grasp on both my ass cheeks, my legs circling his waist.

“Naughty, spoiled, little princess,” he chided, that silken voice of his like aloe on my burning core. “A lesson is in order.”

I whimpered. I couldn’t help it. The olive branch had been passed—launched, really—and I wasn’t taking it back. I pressed my breasts firmly against him, far too aware of the balmy air on my cleavage. Hunching around him in an entirely un-sexy fashion, I kissed every inch of him I could reach.

I’d never been so glad to feel the scratch of tree bark on my back. Ash’ren was everywhere, kissing, licking, claiming. He roughly tugged down my neckline, freeing my right breast with a groan I echoed. He sucked the needy bud into his mouth, swirling the tips of his tongue around it and teasing me until I would sure as flames die if he didn’t move to the next.

His hands were busy lifting my skirts. I whined in disapproval. With his teeth, he stripped my left breast free, forked tongue flicking and laving until both my nipples were extended to the point of aching.

“I don’t know, Ash,” I panted. He froze, features slack with desire but for a hard glint in his blackened eyes, and I knew he was struggling against mental restraints. “I still think you’re rather gentle.”

The terrifying roar that ripped from him then sent all the friendly forest animals scurrying for safety. The tree’s husk bit through linen as he lifted me higher until my legs hung around his shoulders. Nothing gentle remained in my beloved demon.