Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The door to the Bluebell Suite had barely clicked shut before Zara had Ramona pinned against the heavy oak.
They’d startled the front desk clerk with their haste and short answers. Zara had thrown down a black card, saying they’d take “any room, immediately.”
The wood groaned under their combined weight, but the sound was drowned out by the ragged, desperate sound of their breathing. The tether — that invisible, magical cord that had spent three weeks humming with frustration — was now a live wire, sparking and thrashing between them.
“You’re shaking,” Zara murmured. Her hands came up to frame Ramona’s face.
Usually, the demon was the picture of control, all sharp lines and purposeful movements.
Now, her hair was a disaster from Ramona’s fingers, and her dark eyes were wide, the pupils blown out until only a thin ring of amber remained.
Her thumbs traced the line of Ramona’s jaw with a steady, grounding pressure that felt like it was the only thing keeping Ramona from dissolving into the floorboards.
“Adrenaline,” Ramona gasped, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. “And you. It’s mostly you.”
Ramona’s hands found the fabric of Zara’s shirt.
She didn’t just want the clothes off — she wanted the barriers gone.
She wanted to bridge the gap that the failed ritual had left wide open.
Zara didn’t rush, though. Even in her hunger, she was methodical, her fingers working the buttons of Ramona’s coat with a terrifying, steady precision.
She peeled away the layers of damp, salt-stained clothing, following the reveal of skin with her mouth.
Each kiss was a brand. Zara’s lips were cool, a momentary relief against the heat Ramona was generating, but the skin of Zara’s neck and shoulders was radiating an unnatural, furnace-like heat — a dry, searing warmth that Ramona could feel even through the lace of her bra.
“You’re so hot,” Ramona whispered, her head falling back against the door as Zara’s mouth found the sensitive junction of her neck. “Your skin… it’s like you’re burning from the inside.”
“Demonic physiology,” Zara said against her collarbone, her voice dropping into a low, vibrating growl.
She stepped farther into Ramona’s space, her bare thighs — now visible as she discarded her own trousers with a casual flick of her hips — brushing against Ramona’s.
The heat coming off Zara’s core was intense, like standing near an open forge in the dead of winter.
When Zara finally stepped back to strip her shirt, Ramona’s breath hitched in her throat. In the dim, warm light of the bedside lamp, Zara looked lean and predatory. Her skin was a flawless expanse that seemed to catch the light, but as she turned, Ramona saw it — the shadow.
It uncurled from the base of Zara’s spine like a living thing.
It wasn’t solid, but it wasn’t smoke either.
It was a whip-thin length of darkness, darker than the shadows in the corner of the room, tapering to a sharp, spade-like point.
It flicked restlessly in the air, echoing the tension in Zara’s jaw.
“Oh,” Ramona breathed, reaching out with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. Her fingers passed through the edge of the shadow. It didn’t feel like flesh, but more like a low-voltage current, a thrum of pure, kinetic energy that made the hair on her arms stand up. “This is new.”
“It’s a manifestation,” Zara said, her voice rough. “It usually stays in the aether, but tonight… the magic is too close to the surface. Does it bother you?”
“No,” Ramona whispered, stepping forward until there was no air left between them. She pressed her palms flat against Zara’s chest. The heat was staggering. “It makes me want to know what else you’re hiding.”
They tumbled onto the mattress, the Bluebell Suite’s floral duvet a chaotic nest beneath them.
Zara was over her instantly, her weight solid and grounding.
She was a master of making Ramona wait, her tongue tracing the bud of Ramona’s nipple with agonizing precision, one hand pinning Ramona’s wrists above her head, the other pushing Ramona’s underwear down as far as she could reach.
“Tell me what you want, Ramona,” Zara murmured, her voice a vibrating command against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “I want to hear you say it.”
“You.”
“Be more specific.” Another flick of Zara’s tongue over Ramona’s nipple had Ramona arching up into Zara’s mouth.
Ramona writhed under Zara. “I want everything.”
“And you’ll get it, but only if you tell me where to start.”
“Down,” Ramona choked out, her fingers digging into the mattress. “There. Your… mouth.”
Zara moved slowly, dragging her fangs and tongue over Ramona’s stomach and hips, nipping at Ramona’s inner thigh. Ramona watched as Zara slid between her legs, her touch surprisingly gentle as she pulled Ramona’s underwear all the way off. Ramona couldn’t help the way her hips lifted, begging.
Zara’s eyes flicked up, catching her stare as she leaned forward, her tongue parting Ramona’s center with careful precision.
Ramona had never felt anything like it. Zara’s mouth was a revelation — wet, expertly rhythmic, and searingly hot. It felt like being touched by a controlled sun. Ramona’s vision wavered at the edges, and she felt as though Zara was drinking the very breath out of her lungs.
“Look at you,” Zara whispered, pulling back just enough to see Ramona’s flushed, desperate face. Her own face was slick with Ramona’s heat. “You’re soaking for me. You’re so ready it’s tracking down your thighs. You’ve been wanting this for a while, haven’t you?”
Ramona made a sound halfway between frustration and acknowledgment.
Zara’s fingers joined in, blunt and clever, stretching Ramona open, exploring her with gentleness. Before Ramona could even plead or demand, Zara seemed to know what she needed. A curl of a finger, the suction of her mouth, it was all choreographed like a dance they’d done a thousand times.
She stayed right there, her tongue swirling with purposeful, confident strokes, her fingers finding the exact rhythm that sent Ramona over the edge.
It was a deep, spasming release that felt like the tether between them was being stretched taut, then plucked like a guitar string.
Zara’s name was on her lips as she came, her body shaking with the force of it.
As the waves receded, Ramona watched through half-lidded eyes as Zara sat back on her heels. The demon slowly and deliberately licked Ramona’s wetness off her fingers, her dark eyes never leaving Ramona’s.
“Oh fuck,” Ramona panted, her chest heaving as she watched the slow, pornographic movement of Zara’s tongue. “I could come again just seeing you do that.”
“I intend to make sure you do,” Zara promised. She looked hungry. She looked like she could swallow Ramona whole, and Ramona wasn’t complaining.
But Ramona wasn’t ready to be the only one undone. She was all curiosity and a need to touch Zara, to explore every inch of the demon, to make her feel as good as Ramona had. She grabbed Zara’s shoulders and flipped them, making Zara laugh and roll her eyes in acquiescence.
She explored Zara’s body with her fingers and tongue, finding what they had in common — Zara let out a loud groan when Ramona’s teeth found her nipple — and what was different. Zara’s skin was hot, and the tiny, spiked ridges on her hip bones were incredibly sensitive.
“Can I take these off?” Ramona asked, looping a finger under the waistband of Zara’s boxer briefs.
Zara nodded, her dark eyes watching Ramona. It was the first time she’d seen the demon look completely calm, though she could feel how Zara’s heart was racing through the tether between them.
Ramona continued exploring, and as she moved between Zara’s legs, the shadow-tail moved off to the side, the spade at its end flicking in languid swishes along the sheets.
“Can I touch you?” Ramona asked, moving to lie beside Zara, kissing her once more.
“I think I might combust if you don’t,” Zara said with a laugh against her mouth.
Ramona took a deep breath, her eyes focused on Zara’s face as she slid her hand between Zara’s thighs.
Zara was burning. Between her legs, she was a wet, scorching inferno. Ramona watched Zara’s brows furrow in pleasure as she circled her clit.
“More,” Zara breathed.
Ramona pushed two fingers inside, and the heat was so intense it was almost painful, a delicious, searing tightness. Zara buckled, her internal muscles clenching around Ramona’s fingers like a vise.
“You’re so hot,” Ramona whispered, leaning down to bite the sensitive skin of Zara’s shoulder. “You feel so good.”
Zara gasped, her shadow-tail curling around Ramona’s calf like it was holding her in place.
“You want it?” Ramona teased, mimicking Zara’s earlier confidence, her fingers driving into the demon’s heat with a steady, punishing rhythm.
Zara was a symphony of desperate sounds, her usual composure shattered into a thousand pieces. She was writhing, her hips chasing Ramona’s hand with a ravenous hunger. Ramona didn’t let up. She stayed focused, her thumb rubbing the searing point of Zara’s clitoris until the demon finally exploded.
It was a violent, beautiful surrender. Zara’s body clenched and spasmed around Ramona’s fingers, a long, low cry wrenched from deep within her chest. Her tail went rigid, the spade point glowing a faint, ethereal violet before finally going limp.
Ramona didn’t pull away. She stayed there, her fingers deep inside the pulsing, wet heat of the demon, feeling the tremors gradually subside into a heavy, rhythmic thrum.
“Zara,” Ramona whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to her mouth. “You’re incredible.”
Zara didn’t answer with words. She just reached, her hand finding Ramona’s neck and pulling her in, her fingers tangling in Ramona’s hair as they shared a slow, deep kiss that tasted of salt, magic, and something that felt dangerously intimate.
Ramona felt the weight of Zara’s gaze as they pulled apart, the demon’s eyes now gentle and clouded with a strange softness.
Ramona smiled, her hand tracing the curve of Zara’s jaw. “Maybe we should fail more rituals.”
Zara laughed — a real, genuine laugh that echoed in the quiet room. “I think I could be persuaded.”
Ramona pressed up onto her elbow. “Can I do that again?”
Zara grinned, reaching to pull Ramona on top of her. “I do believe it’s my turn, Mortal. Now, grab onto this headboard so I can taste you again.”