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

35

Ash’ren

"I —hah.” I cleared my throat, rattling shadows loose from my mind. A petite hand with sticky cinnamon fingers appeared on my hip, an anchor. I gave her rosemary heron skewer a pointed look. She rolled her eyes and ripped off another bite. “I did a lot of reading up there. And re-reading. Some very riveting stuff about chef Tiki, who apparently Tor’cha idolizes.”

“You do love a good action adventure.”

“Exactly.” I kept my tone playful, and dismissive but had to clear the lump in my throat again. “And I dabbled in a little poetry.”

Her gasp was a little more dramatic than I’d expected. I gave her a wounded glare and her hand disappeared to cover her mouth, but I snatched it and put it back on my thigh, a little higher this time.

“Poetry?” she clucked her tongue. “My bad boy is getting soft.”

“There is nothing soft about me.” I yanked her hand higher until she clutched my half-stiff cock. The only reason it wasn’t fully rocked, rolled, and ready for a rodeo was the burden of the parchment crinkling in my hand.

She giggled, the twinkling sound like a balm on my jittery mind. I scooped her fine ass even closer until the heat of her comforted my cock and tossed her a nonchalant shrug. “For courage.”

“Mhmm.” She kissed the side of my mouth and gripped my hips, crowding even closer. “Take as much courage as you need.”

A growl rumbled from my chest. I moved to capture her mouth, but she dodged my advances.

I whipped the parchment to straighten it and tried to refocus. “This isn’t the original copy. My handwriting isn’t the best with a ballpoint pen, let alone a bloody claw. It’s also a bit choppy. I pieced a few together. And don’t judge my reading. I didn’t read aloud much. Also, I’m not a fucking poet, so, bear that in mind, too.”

Searra melded into me, her arms coming to rest behind my waist along with her legs, her head finding that special nook under my shoulder, grounding me. The beat of her heart helped steady my own. Four beats. Five, six, seven. . .

“Red silk blanket, dragoncherry wine

A stolen kiss in the empty night’s sublime

Your presence and absence felt in mine

A shadow, a wraith, demonic hands to deal destruction

Strip a piece of my soul to hide within

Curled up with you, my holiest sin

Half silent, half awaiting my day of judgment

Morals and boundaries obscenely bent

The moon’s aspect in your calming light be lent

The monster digs in fate’s loam

Teach me not every touch must be so rough, let me roam

So I may know I still have a home.”

I took two long, deep breaths, deep enough to inhale the calming scent of roses and cream, before setting the parchment aside. I briefly considered sending the whole thing up in black flames. From the moisture trapped between our skin, I was pretty sure she enjoyed it. Unless it was my poor dictation making her cry.

“Ash.” She sat back, but I clutched her hips for dear life. Her legs cinched around mine just as tightly as she bent our foreheads together. “I love you. I hate that my love has brought you such harm. You are my home, too.”

“I need you to understand something, dearest glow worm.” I kissed her nose. “You think your love caused me to suffer, but that’s a lie you’ve got to shake. Your love saved me. It saved me as a boy, and it kept me alive every damn day in that tower. All three thousand two hundred and eighty-seven of them. Please stop blaming yourself.”

“Okay.” She sniffled and nodded. “I hear you.” When her brilliant blue eyes met mine, they sparkled. “You know, I suppose I owe you a poem now. Because I wrote to you, too.”

I claimed her mouth like a ravenous soul, like kissing the queen of Hell would save my damned, empty heart. Like fucking holy magic, every swipe of her tongue had the cavernous ache in my chest filling with pure, unadulterated life.

Our bodies began to dance and writhe, my knot filling as swiftly as my soul, but I broke the kiss with a groan. She whimpered in protest, but I ignored her, activating the black flames in my wing with my little mate plastered to my chest.

“You, my dear,” I whispered into her ear between kisses, “are downright filthy.”

“Not as filthy as I’d like to be.” As I stepped from the ledge, her hand disappeared from my neck, a bold move for someone afraid of heights. She grabbed my length through my trousers, and I groaned into her mouth.

“I can fix that, Your Highness.”

“Oh? Is that a promise?”

I aimed toward a crack of ground between two glowing blue-and-violet springs. The golden crust of the earth bled in swirling, mindless patterns between the pools of vibrant liquid. The whole landscape appeared like a marbled masterpiece rendered by a professional pour painter. Wandering the enchanting scene were fire-and-ice flamingos only found here on the border shared with Hydra, the water elemental’s territory.

Thanks to their position between Hydra’s frozen mountain range, this patch of the Soul Springs was the perfect blend of fire and ice to be comfortable year-round. Closer inward to the heat of Fyre, the thermal springs with popping bubbles were boiling like I preferred my baths, but that was no place to seduce a lady.

The brittle dirt met my paws, and I settled Searra onto her feet. I scanned the little dead trees that peppered the area until I found a branch of a fire pine that would never grow taller than my waist, where I hung our fresh clothes. When I turned around, Searra was nude, her rosy nipples peaked and glistening in the balmy air. She stood confidently, her hands reaching for me with the surety of the sun, ready to cleanse me with her light.

With nimble fingers and an intoxicating silence, Searra peeled back my layers until I stood bare before her. My eyes fluttered closed as her sinful touch trailed over the ridges of my skin, tracing my conduit lines, swirling around my nipples. If I never again felt the brush of someone’s shoulder or a pat on the back, I’d still never be starved for touch, for hers was all I needed.

Taking my hand, Searra walked backward into a spring. The pool was one of three that fed into each other, stair-stepping downward in little miniature falls. The springs were their own type of liquid. A mix of the melted ice caps from Hydra and the lava from the river. The resulting substance was a milky texture that moisturized the skin. More than that, the springs boasted a healing power that only occurred when two opposite elements combined in harmony.

“When you first arrived, I was afraid,” Searra admitted. The spring liquid foamed the further we stepped in. Searra guided us to the second of the springs, nudging me to sit and lean against the fall, allowing the warm substance to cascade down my shoulders. “I thought we would be different people. That the years apart would require some grandiose thing, some kind of learning curve.”

Straddling me, she cupped a hand in the milky water and drizzled it over my exposed chest. I hummed and tilted my head back to rest on the ledge, hands lying contentedly at her waist.

“And now?”

“Now, I see our souls will always recognize one another. Your name will always be branded on my heart. It doesn’t matter the things we’ve done. When you’re with me, I’m whole.”

I knew her words to be true. Unable to restrain myself, I placed my palm flat between her breasts and surged my voids-given power forth. Firefly covered my hand with hers, trusting me even as she gasped in pain.

“Mine,” I whispered, kissing the sizzling flesh that now bore my demonic mark. I showered the ink-black lines with the spring’s healing liquid until her skin was smooth again, decorated with a tattoo of a black flame.

“Yours. Always. Now,” she stroked my horn seductively. “Fulfill your promise.”

“How filthy would my dirty little queen like to be?”

“I want whatever you’ll give me. I want you.” Reaching into the water, Searra fished out my tail. She brought it to her mouth and sucked the tip, hollowing her cheeks. With a groan, I reached out and pinched those hollowed cheeks. Her eyes locked on mine, hungry with need, sharpened by love.

“You’re insatiable, my queen.” I dropped my hand to her throat.

“This time, don’t hold back.”