Demon Bound

hadn’t been prepared for that. His body shook with the need to come. Tighter, not because he was stretching her too much but because she was squeezing his length, and so wet and hot that his blood was boiling.
    Alice twisted beneath him, her fingers clenching on his ass. Urging him deeper.
    He couldn’t go as deep as he wanted. But her thighs were together, which was apparently what she needed to come. And they were slick and caressing the base of his shaft with every deliberate stroke; he was rubbing past her clit and still sinking most of the way inside her.
    And oh Jesus, Alice writhed . Made strange, incoherent chittering noises in her throat that drove him insane. Pain streaked across his back as her nails raked him, breaking his control. He planted his hands next to her shoulders and plunged, fucking her off the pillow, fucking her across smooth blue silk.
    He fisted his hands in her hair to anchor her in place, then used his tongue to fuck her mouth, deep strokes that matched the rapid thrust of his cock, that weren’t deep enough until she tensed and trembled, screamed into his mouth, her body jerking and twisting.
    It still wasn’t enough. Jake slowed, and Alice wrapped her arms and legs around him. He pushed in to the hilt, watched her eyes close in almost sleepy pleasure.
    She moved with him, held him when he came. Kissed him until his shakes eased.
    It had to be some kind of miracle that he was still alive when they did.
    He didn’t roll off her, but braced himself on his elbows. His hand wasn’t steady when he pushed a tangled curl from her forehead. Her stockinged feet slid up and down his thighs.
    He couldn’t remember when he’d vanished his jeans.
    He watched her face. Her soft smile didn’t fade as his fingers found the tiny buttons that ran from her shoulder up the side of her neck. Her eyes remained closed, but he could detect a faint glow through her lids.
    There were twenty-four, like tiny black pearls. His heart beat a thousand times for each one. He started at her jaw, and waited until he’d unfastened every button before peeling back the triangle of silk.
    He pressed his lips to her shoulder. Her collarbone. Her throat. The upper swell of her breast, where the fold of black silk barred him from her nipple.
    He didn’t care. God, how he loved her. He could die now, and not have a single regret.
    He lifted his head. Her eyes were open, watching him.
    The feeling swelled, threatened to pop. He was going to kiss her, and probably never stop.
    “Jacob,” she said softly.
    It exploded inside his chest.
    And he jumped.

    Alice blinked up at the ceiling for several minutes. After several more, she could finally begin to think.
    Very possibly, his teleporting was for the best. Soon, he would have had to get up, and what would he have seen? She was in complete disarray. His fault, for stealing her hair ribbon and then tupping her within an inch of her life.
    But perhaps her appearance wasn’t so terrible. She vanished her dress and stood, dragging one of the sheets up with her. Her full-sized mirror was in her cache; she called it in at the end of the mattress.
    Her mouth dropped open when she saw her reflection.
    Oh, dear. She did not like using a mirror in Caelum, unless it was in a chamber full of her own things—it was too disconcerting to stand in a marble room and have nothing in the background but the blue sky.
    But now, standing on the mattress, draped in sapphire silk, her hair in a wild tangle over her shoulders, she did not look as if she were floating into nothingness.
    She looked like a goddess. Aphrodite, rising from the sea.
    With a cackle, she vanished the mirror. How very silly she was—her smile was not serene enough for a goddess. Perhaps, though, it was just wickedly pleased enough for a witch.
    And she would not have minded at all if Jake had seen her that way. No, her only worry was what he’d have heard if he had stayed.
    As it was, she might have already said too much.

CHAPTER 19
    His dick was freezing when Jake realized that he’d lied. If he’d died, he would have had one regret.
    But it was too bad that when he met his daughter, she was taking out the trash, and he’d just landed naked and facedown in the snow. Snow was better than prickly grass, though—and night had fallen, so maybe she hadn’t gotten an eyeful of ass.
    She was still openmouthed with a trash can lid in one hand and a sack of garbage in the other when he formed jeans and a shirt. He