Neon Blue by E Frost (best big ereader .TXT) 📕

it? You said the other morning that you were having trouble.” When his tail made a surprise appearance in my bed.

He nods, and trails his fingers a little closer to my fly. “I’m aware of it. Like you’re aware of clothes.”

“Can you take it off and put it on like clothes?”

“Sorta. I can burn through it, and then spin it out again. Lotta effort, though.” His fingers reach their intended destination. He grins at my protest. “Just step sideways with me, sweetness. No one’ll see.”

Anyone with the Sight will see. “You said other demons and Elementals could see. That you didn’t want them interrupting us, that day we were down in the city.”

He sighs. “You would remember that right now. How ‘bout we head home then? I’m ready for dessert.”

I pack up the thermos and last bits of the picnic, even as I observe, “Dessert? You’ve had nine-tenths of a pecan pie and two apples. You can’t possibly be hungry.”

He grabs me from behind as I bend over the basket. Pulls me back against him, so my butt snugs against his groin. He’s very hungry. “Jou!”

“Watchin’ you eat’s a turn-on. C’mon, sweetness, I’ll race you back. First one to the car gets the first orgasm.”

I swat him until he lets me go, then grab the tote bag and velvet blazer, before I bolt down the hill and sprint down the bike path towards the car. Leave him cursing as he gathers the blanket and picnic basket. He’ll probably still beat me. His legs are yards longer than mine and I’m not much of a runner, but I want that first orgasm, so I give him a race.

Chapter 35

I win the first orgasm – only because he lets me – which I claim in the bath, since I’m sweat-sticky from the run, in a wool sweater, no less. Thankfully, none of my family makes an appearance, either during or afterwards, while Jou holds me in his lap, still filling me, cradling me in his arms and the warm water. His fingers trace wet patterns on the skin of my inner thigh and breast, and when I see a glimmer through my lashes, which are almost closed as I drift in the aftermath, I put my hands over his.

“What are you doing?” I ask. My voice is a little hoarse from panting after my run – I can walk a million miles but running is really not my thing – and from moaning during my climax.

“Writin’ my name on you.”

Both the idea of him marking me with his name and his deep voice make my insides clench. Tightening around his hardness nearly brings me again and I roll my head on his chest. “Jou—”

“You’ve never asked my true-name,” he says. His fingers slip down my thigh and he traces the pattern again over my mons. “Why not, sweetness?”

I’m afraid I might hurt him with it. “Too much temptation,” I tell him truthfully.

“Avoidin’ power again, huh?”

“Yes,” I say huskily. God, he can turn me on with the lightest touch. “Could I control you with your true name? The way Rowena did?”

“Wasn’t my true-name she had on me. It was that fucking ring, and the binding she clamped on my balls.” Like the binding he’s put on me. “She didn’t have enough juice to hurt me with my name. But, yeah, you could probably do me some damage with it. I haven’t decided yet whether I’m gonna give it to you. Just curious as to why you haven’t asked.”

“I don’t want to know it,” I say, deciding right then and there. I don’t want any more control over him, despite the safety it might offer. The more I learn about warlocks trying to control demons, the more I see how totally wrong it is. “Don’t tell me, okay?”

“Okay.” His fingers slip further down between my legs. Is he tracing his sigil on my clitoris? My eyes roll back in my head. “Mmm, you like that.” I feel his deep rumble all the way through me. And yes, yes, I do like that. Very much.

He rocks a little inside me and I grab onto the edges of the tub, on the verge again. He chuckles, low and dark. “We’re gonna have to move this to your bed, sweetness. You’re gettin’ me wound up and I can’t come in here.”

That pulls me back from the hot abyss. I use my hold on the tub’s rim to pull myself up. He helps me with his hands on my hips and slowly withdraws from me as I lift myself off him, a move every nerve-ending south of my waist protests.

I pull the plug so the bath drains, and climb out. Jou rises and shakes himself a little, happily not the way a dog would so there’s no spatter. A gout of steam rises from his skin; he’s drying himself off. I twirl my fingers to shape a cantrip that does the same for me.

He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom. When the door closes behind us, I feel him brush it with power, and my wards rise. They flare red-hot in my mind for a moment, and I wonder if that’s because the demon’s activated them. My magic doesn’t usually carry any sense of heat.

I stop wondering when he pulls me down onto the bed and rolls me under him. “Lift your knees,” he commands. The order, and the dark treacle tone in which he delivers it, make me shiver. Naturally, I begin to wriggle across the bed in a mock-attempt to get away. He growls and rolls me over. Grabs my hips. Pushes my legs apart with his knee. His hand between my shoulders shoves me down into the comforter, rumpled by my struggle. Face-down in the cool blankets, I gasp, breathless from his rough handling, and from excitement.

He rubs his fingers up and down my labia. “You’re so swollen, sweetness,” he growls. “I love how soft you are.” He presses himself