Summoning Heat #5
The demon snorted. “You really are a soft one, aren’t you?” he said, not even trying to hide his disdain. “You think she needs coddlin’? Look at her. She summoned us. She wants this.”
Lugh exhaled slowly, his gaze never leaving my face. “Maybe…” he allowed, voice quiet but firm, “maybe she doesn’t ken what she wants yet. Not really.” His head tipped, studying me like I was a riddle he fully intended to solve. “Hasn’t ever had a real lover worship her body like a damn temple.”
Something low and needy twisted in my gut at the way he said worship.
“The way you looked on your knees for me,” Lugh added, voice dropping, “it did something powerful, angel.”
His hand came to rest at my hip, fingers spreading, steadying me where I straddled him. “Sit up properly,” he murmured.
I straightened on his lap, spine lengthening, the movement pulling the silk of my slip even tighter over my body.
For a beat, he just looked at me—really looked.
His gaze swept slowly from the bare length of my thighs to the hem bunched high on my hips, then up the line of my torso, lingering on the rise and fall of my chest. There was nothing hurried in it, nothing casual; it was open, hungry admiration, as if he were memorising every inch of me.
“Sweet gods,” Lugh breathed, almost to himself. “Ye’re… unreal.”
Then he leaned in.
His hand slid to the small of my back, pressing me closer as his mouth lowered to the exposed skin at the top of my chest. Warm lips brushed there first, testing, then traced a slow, deliberate path upward—over the center of my sternum, along the hollow at the base of my throat, up toward the sensitive curve where my neck met my shoulder.
Every inch he claimed left a trail of heat behind, my breath catching higher in my lungs with each lingering touch.
When he found a spot just beneath my jaw, he stopped running and started lingering.
His lips sealed over that tender place, sucking gently, then a little harder, like he wanted to leave proof he’d been there.
My fingers clenched in his shirt as a helpless sound slipped out of me, half-moan, half shattered sigh.
“That’s it,” Lugh murmured against my skin, his breath hot where he’d just marked me. “Let me taste every bit ye’ve been denyin’ yourself.”
The demon’s laugh slid over my skin like smoke.
“She’s probably never been teased until she’s pantin’,” he whispered, voice like silk laced with danger, close enough that I felt the faint brush of air at my other ear, “until she’s beggin’ for release.
” His words curled around my spine, sinking in.
“Never been pushed until she can’t take any more…
never felt that sweet, delicious ache the next day, the kind that lingers—reminding her who took her apart… and who put her back together again.”
Every syllable landed low in my belly. My fingers tightened in Lugh’s shirt; I couldn’t have said whether I was trying to ground myself or keep from dragging him closer.
“Aye…” Lugh’s reply rumbled against my chest, low and rough with restraint.
“I may not degrade women, demon, but,” he said as his lips ghosted over my skin again, tracing the edge of the mark he’d just left, then wandering lower in slow, maddening passes.
Each barely-there brush sent my breathing snagging higher, my body arching without my permission.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t get… deeply passionate,” he murmured.
He let his mouth trail down the column of my throat, leaving a path of heat and promise wherever he lingered.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t lose myself in the moment,” he added, voice a rough scrape against my skin. “And believe me, angel…” His breath dragged hot over the spot where my pulse kicked wild. “You’ll still feel me the next day.”
He tipped his head, catching my mouth in a kiss that was all hunger and barely-leashed control—messier now, less careful, as if the demon’s taunts and my answering shivers had finally cracked something open inside him.
I melted into it, into him, into the way his hands framed my waist like he was holding back out of sheer stubborn honour.
“Well, well…” the demon drawled, a mocking edge in his tone, though there was real interest beneath it. “Maybe the demigod isn’t as righteous as I’ve been led to believe.”
Lugh broke the kiss with a soft sound that might have been a curse, his forehead resting against mine for a heartbeat. When he spoke again, his voice was hushed, wrapped in a hunger that vibrated through every word.
“Slowly now,” he murmured, eyes searching my face. “Let’s see what power you’ve hidden beneath all this satin.”
His fingers found the thin straps of my slip where they clung to my shoulders.
He didn’t yank or drag; he simply toyed with one, sliding it back and forth along my skin as if to give me time to stop him.
When I didn’t—when I rolled my hips the slightest bit in silent answer—he exhaled, a shaky, reverent sound.
Then, with agonising care, he eased one strap down my shoulder, then the other, the fabric gliding over my skin in a slow, sensual descent. Cool air kissed every new inch revealed, chased almost immediately by the heat of his gaze as it followed the slip’s downward path.
The satin slid, inch by inch, over my collarbones, past the top of my chest, down the curve of my ribs, pooling gradually at my waist. The fabric bunched there, trapped between our bodies for a moment—then he ripped it free and threw it to the side of the slab.
I felt exposed and worshipped all at once, like a relic being unwrapped in a fallen temple.
“There you are…” he breathed against my ear, voice a heady mix of admiration and temptation. “A goddess made flesh.”
His hands moved over my bare skin with a possessive slowness, thumbs circling like he was already imagining more, while his mouth chased after them, kissing greedily. Every touch was a plea edged with hunger: this—give me this—give me more.
Then he cupped me tenderly. “Your breasts are the perfect size. They fit right into the palm of my hand.”
From somewhere behind me, the demon huffed, annoyed and aroused in equal measure.
Lugh only smiled against my skin, the curve of his mouth felt more than seen. “Patience, demon,” he said, still maddeningly controlled. “Sometimes pleasure is earned.”
Lugh laughed softly when I shivered, breath fanning over my sensitised skin. “So bloody responsive,” he murmured. “I intend to savour every moment of this.”
Lugh’s hands settled on my hips, thumbs stroking slow circles into my skin. When he spoke, his voice was low and certain, right against my mouth.
“Tell me what you need.” His tone dipped, rough silk. “Let me hear you, angel.”
My mouth went dry. Every filthy fantasy that had brought me here pressed against my tongue at once.
Footsteps shuffled just behind my shoulder. The demon’s laugh slid in, amused and cutting.
“Gods, the patience on you,” he drawled. “You’re a slow-burn romance daddy, aren’t you?”
Lugh’s breath brushed my jaw as he huffed out something that was almost a laugh. “Some men take, and others make a woman feel every touch…until she’s aching to be undone.” His lips ghosted the curve of my shoulder, leaving a line of heat in their wake. “No degradation required.”
He punctuated it with slow, measured kisses along my collarbone, each one making it harder to remember my own name, let alone what I’d wanted to say.
The demon tsked, but there was interest under the mockery. “A poetic approach, demigod,” he mused. “But tell me—how long do you plan to keep all of us from finding release?”
Lugh didn’t bother looking at him. His attention stayed on me, on the way my breath hitched and my fingers bunched in his shirt.
“Ask our little tease here,” he said instead, voice dropping further. His lips hovered at the corner of my mouth, his words a warm brush against my skin. “All she has to do is tell me what I want to hear.”
“I want you to take me apart,” I said, lifting my gaze to his, letting him see every raw, reckless part of me. My hips gave the slightest, helpless roll in his lap. “I want both of you. I want all of it. I want to feel everything.”
A low, satisfied sound rumbled in Lugh’s chest. “Mmm,” he breathed, eyes flaring with need. “Very good. Just what I wanted to hear.”
“I do love the way she asks so sweetly,” the demon murmured, the words a sinful caress. “I can’t wait to hear you beg through tears, little mortal. It’s gonna be a feckin’ aphrodisiac.”
I swallowed hard, then lifted my chin. “Please,” I breathed, the word catching on a rasp. “Touch me. I want you—I want your hands, your mouth, your body on mine. I want you to ruin me the way you promised… and I want to feel every second of it.”
The demon’s tone sharpened, edged with warning. “Sweetheart, I don’t take suggestions,” he added. “And I sure as hell don’t take demands from anyone.”
I felt him shift behind me—close enough that his heat licked along my spine.
He’d prowled into the space at my back like he belonged there, sliding in behind my body while I was still straddling Lugh, like the two of them had decided I was the battlefield and the prize.
He positioned himself behind my hips—outside my legs, not between them—so he could crowd my back while I stayed seated on Lugh.
“But fuck me…” the demon muttered, as if it cost him to admit it. “You do beg so pretty with those big eyes.”
His breath dragged over my shoulder as he moved in even closer—so close I couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the other began.
“You’re makin’ this so feckin’ hard. Especially with the way this… arousal of yours makes you smell,” he groaned, voice dropping to a near-growl. “Just thinkin’ about it. I’m dyin’ to have a taste. What are you doing to me?”
Lugh’s answering grin was wicked and pleased. “Who’s goin’ soft now, demon?”
“Oh, shut up,” the demon grumbled. “My plan remains. I’m just… quite open to the idea of sharing her.”