Chapter Three
Terra
My chin wrinkles with the weight of stifled sobs. I rush to turn on the shower before any noise escapes. Chad isn’t trying to be a dick. He’s just tired, and doesn’t understand my reasons for going to the orgies. Most people don’t, and that’s fine.
Steam fills the modern bathroom while I get my shit together. Before he moved away, Chad was always there for me, even if my sexual cravings freaked him out. Now he’s back, and his tolerance for me is shorter than ever.
He’s not the first person to wish I would settle the thirsty demon between my legs for them.
With a saucy smile and ditzy giggle, I can usually distract people from my issues, but if anything, my cravings have gotten worse.
One partner isn’t enough. Two will get me there, but three?
That’s when things start to get good. Especially when I get to observe others blissed out on orgasms in the same room, to taste their pleasure, to use it as lube.
“Fuck.”
I drop my forehead against the shower wall and let scalding hot droplets pelt my neck as tears blend with the water. Something’s wrong with me. I’m a total sobbing wreck in the shower, and the thought of using someone’s cum to get fucked by another man has my fingers twitching toward my pussy.
Ignoring the call to feed my inner succubus, as Chad so aptly named it, I force myself to wash without playing around in Chad’s shower.
Once clean, I step out of the shower and reach for a towel, glancing in the mirror to make sure my smile passes for legit.
I let the fake happiness wash over me until my second skin is secure and even the foggy mirror looks satisfied.
Letting the towel drop, I reach forward to swipe at the fog. My hand snags on the glass. Pain lances through my fingers, shooting up my arm, but I can’t pull away. A white-hot explosion strips my vision, ringing in my ears, overhauling my existence until nothing but pain remains.
This must be death. A piece of myself mourns that I hadn’t gone out split between two enormous cocks, mid-orgasm.
Fuck, the pain in my head is unbearable!
How long will it continue? I’ve heard the body lives for minutes after death.
I won’t miss the migraines, that’s for sure.
They’re so common that I won’t be surprised if they haunt me even in death.
My hands fly to my temples, no longer tethered to the mirror.
Instead of smooth skin, my fingers clutch at stumps that grow and grow.
Horns?!
“Oh, god!”
I really am a demon! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Considering the migraine lingers and the horns break skin, that must mean my foster families had all been right about me. Chad, too, that rude fucker.
Hell is colder than I’d expected. Through frightened tears, I blink at the blurry scene.
Clouds and ice swirl around a figure that gawks down at me between crystalline pillars that rise to a flat ceiling of fog.
The stranger is tall and stacked, built like a firefighter.
Even his Hollywood wizard beard is flecked with snowflakes, and damn my demonic pussy for wanting to ride that arrogant Daddy smirk.
Strange, for how long and weathered his beard looks, there are no wrinkles around his icy blue eyes. Not a crease in sight on smooth opalescent skin that shimmers every time the snow reflects the light.
I swallow a thick lump and bite back my tears. No one’s that ethereally pretty without some deal with the devil.
I find my voice. “Are you a demon, too?”
The man furrows perfectly trimmed gray brows, then chuckles, and damn, he is every good girl’s dream.
“No, my dear.” He kneels before me and gazes into my eyes, making me realize his aren’t blue at all; they’re all the colors of the aurora, dancing to a hidden moon. “There are no demons here.”
“But. . .” Unraveling my arms from around my naked body, I reach for my headache, hoping maybe I’d been hallucinating. Nope. The protrusions are still there.
“Those are most unexpected, little fawn, but rest assured, you are no different than you were before.”
I suppose that should be comforting. I’m still the horny girl crying the shower, now with real horns. “Oh.”
“Oh?” he mimics. His gaze rakes over me, and he chuckles again, then murmurs as though I’m not right here, “I believe our doe isn’t fond of that idea.”
I follow his gaze over my shoulder. The room is much deeper than I’d thought, and too lavish to be Hell unless I’m speaking to the Devil himself.
In fact, the four-poster bed with pillars of such pure crystal that they refract light throughout the room suggests this is more likely Heaven.
I scrunch my nose. If so, hopefully it’s more fun than the books imply.
“Who are you—oh!” Whipping my head around, I come face-to-face with a massive canine.
Massive is an understatement. There’s no way I’d consider this animal a dog. A deep rumbling purr vibrates the air between us. Its fur is so gray it almost looks blue, and its stormy eyes are so earnest I could’ve sworn—
“Fuck!” I clutch my head as another wave of pain wracks through me, shooting straight to my chest. My fingers tangle around the protrusions, and I curl protectively around my throbbing heart.
Suddenly, the air is so humid I can’t breathe. Like falling through the mirror, but worse, because my heart is trying to punch through my chest and jump onto the wolf’s back. Only the wolf is gone. In its place stands a…man? A big, fuzzy man.
“She’s losing consciousness, pet.” Sexy Wizard mutters.
“I’m fine,” I insist, but my voice is so weak even I don’t believe me.
“Don’t worry,” the newcomer says, his honeyed voice like the caress of morning dew on velvet petals. I long to be a rose, just so he can deflower me. “I’ve got you.”
“Wh-who?”
He’s so close I feel his breath ghost over my cheek like steam, his gaze like a gray sky pelting the window with rain on a cozy day.
My vision blurs, and in the next breath, I let myself fall into the fur blanket that wraps me tight.