Wicked Abyss (Immortals After Dark #17) - Kresley Cole Page 0,81

teeth. “Oh!”

Then came more rubbing with his horns. They were shockingly warm. From the sun, or were they always?

The tower’s engravings had featured horns again and again; demons seemed to revere them. A male demon was supposed to love it when his partner steered his course with them—or held on to them for dear life.

I really want to touch Abyssian’s horns.

He froze. “I heard that thought.”

Shit! She’d have to be more careful with her blocks.

He spun her around, putting her sex in front of his face. Would he go down on her right now?

“Gods almighty, what I wouldn’t do for a taste of your sweet flesh.” Seeming to give himself a shake, he rasped, “But first my mate will have her wish. Touch me.”

“Will you lower your head?”

He did. Signs of Abyssian’s might surrounded her. He had dominion over lethal predators, volcanoes, her. Yet the legendary king of hell was on his knees, making himself vulnerable to her. That concession meant so much.

His chest was still—holding his breath? When she ran the pads of her fingers across the base of one large horn, he loosed a ragged exhalation.

Again that heady sense of power swept her up. “I didn’t expect it to be so warm.” The length straightened even more. “How well can you feel through them?”

He tensed, as if her question had provoked him. “They are extremely sensitive organs. I feel pleasure—and pain.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

He hastily said, “Keep touching me.”

Her fingers were stark against the black smoothness. Growing more aroused, she caressed his other horn, and it straightened as well.

“Lila . . .” He bowed his head even more. “I’ve no defense against you.” Though he quaked harder, she felt as if she were gentling him. A small fey’s touch was taming this great beast of a demon.

When she impulsively leaned down to press her lips to one horn, he made a broken sound.

“Was that wrong?”

“Right.” He reached around to grip her ass. “I just don’t know how much more I can take.”

A thought blasted through her mind. And it wasn’t hers.

—She will be the death of me.—

Moments ago, he’d picked up one of her thoughts; had she just read Abyssian’s mind?

Or was she losing her own?

Maybe the throne of hell brought more perks with it than she’d ever expected. . . .

Kneading her ass, he said, “Now I want you on my tongue. Knee over my shoulder, Lila.”

She swallowed. “Um, okay.”

Before she could lift her leg, he muttered, “Wait.” He canted his head, seeming to listen for something. “Godsdamn it, I have to return.” He shuddered as he rose.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve sensed an entry into our dimension.”

He could do that? “An enemy?”

Abyssian grated, “As of this moment forward, yes.”

THIRTY-EIGHT

Of all the bloody bad timing . . .

An entry into Sian’s realm had pinged his consciousness. Muttering a vile curse, he grasped Calliope’s elbow, teleporting her to their room.

He’d just been a heartbeat away from tasting her, inhaling his mate’s tantalizing scent—about to feast on her.

While she’d been stroking his horns! How many times had he fantasized about that same scenario over the last ten millennia?

Fuck the defense of Pandemonia.

No, no, he now had a mate to protect; defense was more important than ever.

After steadying her, he traced to his dressing room. Brushing sand from his knees, he stabbed his legs into trews, struggling to tie the laces over his bulging cock.

Had he really been partway inside his mate?

She’d donned her robe by the time he returned. “What’s going on?”

“Kingdom concerns. Stay here. I’ll be back to escort you to dinner.” He briefly took her lips again, reluctant to release her.

Sudden impact rocked the castle. From the throne tower?

She grabbed his hand. “What concerns?”

“There’s no danger to you. I’ll take care of this.”

“Okay. Go. I can keep myself occupied.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. Don’t take the edge off your need.” He pressed a kiss to her palm. “Wait and allow me to tend to you.”

She nodded breathlessly.

He traced to the throne room, baring his fangs for a confrontation.

Uthyr had just collapsed onto the terrace. Scorch marks covered him. He was missing scales and looked exhausted.

“What happened to you, dragon?”

Uthyr’s chest heaved, emitting wheezing puffs of smoke. —You happened to me, demon!—

“Explain.”

—I flew to the Vrekeners’ mountain to watch the queen’s television, a season finale. But when I was ready to return here and check on your progress, someone had decided to lop off that realm. With me in it!—

Sian pinched his forehead. “My apologies, Uthyr. How did you