Chapter Three Banquets and Bouquets
“Haven’t you ever been in a mall before?” Cara laughed and pulled him along.
“I have.”
He’d just never looked at the surroundings; he’d looked at the targets.
Now, the “target” was with him, holding his hand, staring at him as he watched the Halloween Mega Mart transform into Santa’s Toy Shoppe. Down came pumpkins the size of cars and up went—
“Do you folks want me to get your picture?” One of the workmen stopped in mid-garland, making Stray stop staring at the giant bough of mistletoe.
“A kissing bough,” he said softly, pointing up to the central point in the display of greenery and red bows.
“Oh. Mistletoe?” Cara gave him a sideways look. “You wouldn’t want to get a picture of us kissing in the middle of the mall. Would you?”
“Give the man your phone,” Stray growled, pulling her close, inhaling deep. “And when we’re done walking around this overzealously decorated den of commercialism, we’re going to pop it in a silver frame and hang it over the hearth.”
If Cara was going to ask what hearth, and why he could see so clearly inside her head, she didn’t get a chance to.
She’d no sooner handed off her phone to the smiling older gentleman with a “Santa’s Helper” tag on his shirt than she was bent backward in a kiss that made her toes curl in their comfy fall boots.
“Can we... Order the frames online?” Cara gasped against his shirt when he hauled her back upright.
He’d been waiting for this meal for a week. More than that, for his whole life—his whole eternity.
“Nope. Shopping first,” he insisted, trying to discreetly adjust himself inside his too-snug jeans.
Dessert soon enough.
Stray carried her through her own doorway, across the threshold of her house. Maybe one day it would be their house. If tonight went right, how could it be anything else?
Because you’re still a demon of sorts, and you want to sip on her soul, and you don’t need it. You need her. “Cara?”
Cara was already unbuttoning his shirt, hands scrabbling over his chest with a frenzied pace that matched his own. “Stray. Strathvyn,” she said his name like syrup, slowly trailing sweetness over something too bitter and hard, making it better.
“Do you believe in soul mates?”
“No. Well. I didn’t.”
“I didn’t, either. But I do now. If I...
If I had a soul worth having, I’d give you some of mine.
I’d share it with you.” He seized her hands and kissed them, trying to explain something no woman should have to hear, something he wouldn’t have had to admit if he’d been a better person in life.
“I wish you’d let me share yours, beautiful.
Your beautiful, bright, brilliant soul. I don’t deserve it, though. You should tell me no.”
There. He’d done one thing right in a universe of mistakes and sins. “Tell me no,” he repeated gently.
“But why? I want to say yes to you. To anything you ask me. Or tell me to do,” Cara looked at him, hands on her hips, thumbs tucked under black leggings, ready to show him those slender thighs he was desperate to get between.
“Remember how I said I had never met anyone I’d marry?
Well, I have now. But before you—I was a horrible person.
Not a person worthy of you. And it would kill me to leave you—” he swallowed, considering that it probably would.
He wouldn’t be able to go back to his old life, or his old ways, not after a taste of the real thing, “but I’d do it if you wanted me to. ”
Cara’s scent, so rich and succulent seconds ago, became confused, like bittersweet chocolate on his palate, just a touch too dark and unpleasant. “You can’t play games like this with me.”
“I’m not! Oh, I swear I’m not, Cara. I want to stay. I just wish... I wish I could tell you that I’m the kind of man you deserve.”
“You’re the man who wants to see me happy. Who has eyes only for me. You’re the man who makes me believe I’m worthy of good things.” She stroked his face. “That I’m never outclassed.”
“You’re in a class by yourself, gorgeous,” he admitted, stroking her long locks as she came closer, head to his.
“I do believe that. I want to be in your life in a way that I’ve never wanted anything before.
And because you’re my strong girl, a woman who still gets excited over pretty leaves while kicking asses in accounting,” they shared a wry smile, “you know you could tell me to beat it, and you’d have a thousand kings lining up for you tomorrow. ”
“I don’t want them. I want you. And if this is reverse psychology to make me fall in love with you, then tell you to leave so I beg you to stay—”
“I swear it’s not!” he gave her a desperate little shake.
“Either way, it’s working. Don’t go, Stray. Stay.” She kissed him on the lips and pulled back with a smirk. “Good boy.”
He had to laugh, relief slowly trickling through him. “I want to stay with you, forever. My soul needs yours to heal it, Cara.”
“I know,” she whispered, kissing him harder. “I don’t know quite how I know, but I do. And if I heal you,” her sweet look turned impish, “doesn’t that make me your ‘very good girl’?”
Oh, God. She knew how to stroke every single weak spot he possessed and create new ones while she was at it. “My best. My one and only.” He scooped her up again, striding from the living room into her bedroom.
The body he’d been dreaming of for days was soft and slender with areas of ripeness, swelling breasts that fell gently to the sides, hips that had the faintest silvery spiderwebs of skin stretched with her shape—and what a shape.
His mouth clamped onto her hipbone, and he moaned against the smooth, pliable curve of her flesh over it.
Dug his fingers into her curls and kissed her navel, sinking into soft, heavenly places with just his hands and his mouth, the shadowy coils inside of him aching to burst free and curl around her. Wrap her up safe.
That had never been the instinct before.
“Oh, Stray. Oh, God,” Cara moaned like someone who had never experienced that instinct, either.
First, he’d cherish. Protect. Adore.
And then... Well, he was a reformed demon.
But he wasn’t a saint.
His lips fused to her skin in sucking ovals, leaving raspberry-colored bites across her belly and breasts while he lowered himself on top of her.
Cara moved her legs apart easily, like she believed that some kisses were all she needed before being taken for a ride that would hopefully leave her in a trembling puddle.
“Excuse me a couple of minutes, darling,” he whispered.
“Where are you going?” she half-sat up.
He scooted down between her legs. “To get a drink.”
His tongue danced and dipped over her folds, instantly intoxicated. Red wine, honey, and slippery sex, so perfect in their blend of dark curls, porcelain skin, and coral lips. “My good girl. My delicious girl.”
“Oh. Ohhh, oh, God!” Cara’s voice skipped and leapt up an octave of surprise as he buried his face into her pussy, sucking hard on each little fold, tongue lapping at her center.
His shadowy form seemed to hover against his chest, helping, parting her for his easy access.
He could tell she felt it, the long shadowy masses probing inside and returning to his tongue, delivering her wetness to him while his fingers massaged her rapidly stiffening clit.
“How are you doing that?” Cara whimpered when his shadows stayed inside of her while his lips hugged her clit into his mouth.
“An old trick I learned,” he whispered, tongue flicking her bead before sucking on it. “Do you like it?”
“I don’t... understand it.”
“Do you need to understand it to know it feels good?” he asked, hoping the answer was no.
“I don’t think it matters,” she whimpered, hips bucking towards his tongue.
“Good girl. Trusts me.”
“Mmm, I do.”
He shoved his shadows back down. Her trust was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, tied with her love. He wouldn’t let anything ruin that. Better to put her in control. With a groan of anticipation, Stray rolled onto his back. “On top.”
“Oh, does someone like cowgirls?” she giggled.
“No, someone knows that the queen deserves her throne.” He pointed to his lips. “Up here. Now.”
“What? No! No, I never do that. I’m like... Not shy, not just shy, but super afraid I’ll hurt the guy’s jaw. My ex-husband said he’d choke if I did that.”
“That means he was weak. I’ll choke him for you if you’d like.” Stray grinned and lifted her up with surprising (to her) strength.
“Stray!” Cara panted and clutched at his scalp. “I’m not actually good at being the ‘dominant one.’ I know that’s dumb, because I’m in my thirties and everything—”
“You be exactly the woman you need to be. Strong when you want, soft when you want. You’re my banquet, my buffet.
” He clamped his hands on her waist, and tendrils of black shot from his chest to wrap around her feet and ankles.
She gasped, and he spread her legs over his hungry mouth.
“That’s why I’m in love with you, Cara. Because you’re all the wonderful things.
And right now, you don’t have to be in charge just because you’re sitting higher than me, my swan,” he hummed against her clit and loved the new, joyful perfume that wafted from her, a mix of sexual pleasure and ecstasy at feeling understood, at being called sweet names—at being given exactly what she should have had all this time.
“What’d you say I was, with my muscles and my mess of silver streaks? ”
“Daddy. Not like, father. You know, like... Like, ‘Oooh, daddy,’” she blushed, looking down at him.
“Daddy says sit, princess. I got you a nice new throne, and it’s all yours, whenever you want a seat.”
Cara nodded, a soft sigh parting her lips as he closed his eyes and devoured.