Demon's Trust (The Chronicles of Arcayos #1) - Raven Dark Page 0,49
fidgets, pushing her thick, dark ponytail over her shoulder. “It’s just that you’re taking this whole Hooded Swordsman thing a little too well.”
My stomach clenches. Longing to tell her presses down on me, a heavy oppressive weight. We usually tell each other everything.
“Would it be better if I was panicking?” I ask a little too defensively. “I bet half the guys would love to see that.”
“You know that’s not what I mean. I get it. You have to be strong. Can’t let the good ol’ boys see you fall apart. But you don’t even seem concerned, Cass. He’s decapitating people. I hate Max’s faux chauvinistic concern, but he has a point. You should be worried.”
Almost anything I say—or don’t say—to Julie right now will make her more concerned, so I clasp her hands, settling for the easiest way out. “I just don’t want to talk about it, okay? Let me handle it on my own. Please.”
She draws a breath and lets it out. “That whole lone wolf thing again. Okay. I’ll back off. But just… you’re not alone in this. We’re all here for you, okay?”
I give her a real smile. “I know. Thank you.”
“Love you, girl.”
“Love you too.” She can’t imagine how much I mean those words.
A few days and he’ll be here. The fox in the henhouse. I hate myself right now.
I get into my car, shut the door, and give her a wave before I pull out of the lot.
Julie’s wrong. When it comes to Arcayos, I am alone in this. I have to be.
Halfway home, I wipe my brow. The car is stifling, even though darkness is falling, and with it, the temperature has dropped to a pleasantly cool night. My face is slicked with sweat, my nipples are jabbing at a shirt that’s sticking to my back, and the ache between my legs has started up again.
Arcayos is an opportunistic, manipulative demon spawn from hell, and apparently my body doesn’t give two shits. If he’s not using some sort of magic on me, I’ll eat my damn shield.
By the time I turn onto my street, I’m panting and my hair is stuck to my forehead. My jeans rub against my clit until I’m practically dry-humping my seat. I squeeze my thighs together, but it doesn’t help. It feels like my whole body is on fire. I pull up to my fourplex and take my hands off the steering wheel.
What the hell?
I take my gloves off. My hands are shaking.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Hoping a cold shower will do the trick, I snap my gloves back on and lock up the car.
Inside my apartment, I toss my keys on the table by the door, deposit my gun and badge in my nightstand, and head for the bathroom.
Ignoring the hot water entirely, I turn on the cold, strip, and step under. The icy spray shocks me, but it soothes the heat scorching my skin. I sigh, slumping against the wall.
Knees weak with need, I give my hair a quick wash and scrub down, praying the rush of desire pulsing through me finally ebbs.
It doesn’t. My whole core is in flames. My chest heaves. The spray rains down on my breasts, stimulating my nipples. Holy shit, they’re as hard as bullets.
When I was ten, I did a stupid thing. I was climbing a tree while playing tag with Saffron. A sudden wave of dizziness hit me. It was baking hot out. I ignored the dizzy spell and kept going. I fell out of the tree and broke my arm.
It turned out I had heatstroke. I feel exactly like I did back then, like I’ve just gotten off the world’s worst roller coaster. Shaky, weak in the knees, and adrenaline is pulsing through me, making me feel drugged.
Half-afraid I’ll fall in the shower and crack my skull open, I grab the showerhead like I did last time, flicking the setting to pulse. Imagining Arcayos’ deft fingers toying with my clit as I bring the showerhead down.
My entire body is trembling. My head feels like it’s floating away. My clit screams, begging for release.
I spread my legs wide, bending my knees, and slip the showerhead between my thighs, turning it to the right angle. The water pulses against my clit, a delicious, hard, steady beat.
“Oh, God.” I moan, swirling the stream, dragging it up and down over the swollen bud. But the fever doesn’t ebb, and the orgasm stays out of reach.