Chapter 14 #4
“Look at you. So desperate you couldn’t even wait two minutes to get your clothes off,” Daphne tutted softly, and Sam couldn’t help the whimper that left her lips, heat rising up her jaw.
Desperate. She could feel Daphne smile against her throat, the scrape of teeth against her collarbone.
“This is what you want, hmm?” Daphne rolled her hips up, meeting Sam’s frantic, rocking thrusts with her own.
Sam had felt desire before, but never like this.
Like if Daphne didn’t keep touching her, the fire in her veins would burn even her bones to ash.
It was too good, friction perfect against her clit, the pressure and pleasure almost too much, reducing Sam to high-pitched noises and fucked-out little gasps.
Daphne pulled back and looked at Sam with black eyes.
“Are you going to scream for me, sweetheart? Come on.” The fingers tangled in Sam’s hair tightened, hard enough to make her scalp tingle and her cunt clench.
Daphne bared her teeth in a savage smile and arched up, flicking the tip of her tongue against Sam’s bottom lip. “Give it to me.”
Sam’s lips trembled and the muscles in her thighs and stomach burned.
Her calves were a minute away from cramping as her toes curled and—Daphne dragged her claws over the sensitive skin at the small of her back, sending Sam plummeting over the edge into pleasure so good, so sharp, that she cried out.
“ Holy shit. ” A breathless laugh escaped her, her head lolling against Daphne’s shoulder.
Daphne ran her fingers through Sam’s hair and huffed quietly. “Nothing holy about that .”
Sam rolled her eyes and lifted her head so she could look Daphne in the eye. She was smirking, looking inordinately pleased, like the cat that got the cream.
“Shut up.” Sam’s fingers went to her mouth, pressing gently against her tender, bruised lips. “I thought you were trying to be nice.”
“I am being nice,” Daphne said, snatching Sam’s hand and pressing a kiss against the center of her palm. “Next time, I’ll show you what I’m like when I’m mean.”
The promise sent a shiver down Sam’s spine and made her insides clench. “Next time? As in, there’s going to be one?”
Daphne’s eyes, not yet returned to blue, not that Sam minded, flitted over her flushed face. A slow smile curled the corners of her red, kiss-bitten mouth. “Next time.”
Sam’s stomach swooped riotously, giddily , and she boldly traced the lace trim along Daphne’s neckline down to her cleavage. Daphne arched into her touch, goose bumps erupting along her skin. “There’s still this time …”
With a sweetly shuddered sigh, Daphne took Sam’s hand in hers and dragged it down her body, placing it beneath the hem of her skirt and sliding it up the inside of her thigh until together, their fingertips grazed the place where Daphne’s leg met her body.
Sam slipped her fingers past the lace of Daphne’s underwear and swore quietly when her fingers grazed Daphne’s slit.
“ Fuck ,” Daphne murmured, hips shifting restlessly beneath Sam. She was drenched, so wet that Sam’s fingertips slid through her folds with ease. “More.”
Sam slicked her wetness up and circled her nub, a broken gasp falling off Daphne’s tongue as she did. She squirmed, pressing herself harder against Sam’s hand, and opened her mouth, but all that came out was a low, broken mewl followed by Sam’s name.
Sam pressed a kiss against her jaw. “You taste sweeter than sin, you know that?”
Daphne gasped and her hips stuttered, nails biting into Sam’s skin as she cried out. Sam gentled her touch, and slowly, by small measures, Daphne relaxed, her breathing returning to normal.
It could’ve been five minutes later or fifty when Daphne lifted her head and brushed her lips against Sam’s in a gentle kiss that lacked the fevered heat from before, but none of the passion. When they finally broke apart, Daphne tugged Sam down, shifting until they were both lying on their sides.
Arms wrapped around Daphne’s waist, Sam nuzzled her nose into Daphne’s hair. Daphne smelled like vanilla and sugar and sex and the air just before a storm. Sam hummed contentedly before yawning loudly.
Daphne chuckled. “Tired?”
After the day Sam had had, a nap sounded fantastic. She nodded.
Daphne danced her fingers down Sam’s spine, making her melt. “Rest a while.”
“Your turn.”
Sam rested her chin on her hand. “Okay. You can pick one food and one food only to eat for the rest of your life. What is it?”
Daphne rolled over, the sheets she’d conjured to match the bed she’d magicked the chaise into pooling around her hips, leaving her bare from the waist up. “That’s not fair.”
Sam ran a finger from the notch at the top of Daphne’s breastbone down between her breasts. “Hmm?”
Daphne grabbed her hand and nipped at her fingertips. “I’m immortal. The rest of my life is a lot longer than most.”
“All right, fine. You can pick one food and one food only to eat for the next … I don’t know, eighty years. Happy?”
Daphne frowned. “What if I don’t want to have to eat the same food for eighty years?”
Sam stole her hand back and pinched Daphne’s side, making her squirm. “Just answer the hypothetical question.”
“Food or dish?”
Sam considered the question. “Dish.”
“Hmm. Okay, I think I’d have to go with … brimstone biscuits.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Brimstone biscuits,” Daphne repeated. Sam wasn’t hearing things. “They’re like little charcoal briquettes, only bitesize.”
Sam cut her eyes to Daphne. “You’re kidding.”
“Demon, remember?” Her lips didn’t so much as twitch.
“They’re extra high in sulfur.”
Brimstone biscuits. Sam frowned, rolling the idea around inside her head. “And you get those where, exactly?”
“If you can’t get them directly from Hell, store-bought is fine.”
Store-bought was—“Oh, you liar!”
Daphne burst out laughing. “Aw, were you seriously trying to figure out how to make me brimstone biscuits? A food I pulled entirely out of my ass? That’s so sweet.”
“Excuse me if food happens to be my love language,” Sam grumbled half-heartedly. “It’s how I show that I care.”
Daphne’s lips parted soundlessly, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. “Do you … you want to know the real answer?”
Sam nodded, and Daphne shuffled closer, hooking her ankle around Sam’s under the covers.
“We called them honey tokens,” she said. “They were pieces of fried dough that we soaked in honey. We only had them on special occasions.”
Now, that Sam could make. “Sounds a little like a beignet.”
“A little,” Daphne agreed. “You know, I haven’t had a beignet in at least fifty years.”
“You don’t say.”
A slow smile spread across Daphne’s lips. “Do you want to go somewhere?”
Sam huffed out a quiet, startled laugh. “ Now? To what? Get beignets?”
She shrugged. “If you want.”
“Can’t you just”—Sam waved a hand—“poof some up here?”
“Sam.” Daphne leveled her with a serious stare. “There’s only so long a girl can stay cooped up inside this elevator. I’m starting to feel like a genie in a bottle here.”
Sam only barely resisted the urge to make a joke about knowing how to rub her the right way, snickering inwardly instead.
Beignet Café, a little food cart in Union Square, had great beignets, but they were only open on weekends during specific hours. “Where did you have in mind?”
Daphne paused before asking with uncharacteristic hesitation, “Do you trust me?”
Maybe it was stupid, taking any demon at their word, but Sam had never claimed to be a paragon of intelligence or sound decision-making.
“I do,” she said, praying Daphne wasn’t going to make her regret this.
The intensity of Daphne’s stare told her that the enormity of the moment was not lost on her. “Good.” She smiled softly and squeezed Sam’s fingers. “Then close your eyes.”