Fashionably Dead Down Under (30 page)

Putting more distance between us, I ran my
hands over my breasts and pinched my achingly hard nipples. My
breasts had become tender with pregnancy and even more sensitive to
touch. I hissed out a sound of pleasure and watched his eyes dilate
and burn a beautiful green. He was no longer playing a game . . .
it had turned serious. I stared at the lines of his sleek naked
body and my heart bounced around in my chest. His muscled torso and
biceps were the things dreams were made of. Someone as beautiful as
he was should not exist.

He’d backed me into a corner, but that was as
much my plan as his. I pressed my back to the cool wall and waited.
I wanted him to take me and make me forget where I was, what I had
to do and who I was supposed to be. I closed my eyes and inhaled
his scent.

The feathering of light kisses across my
belly startled me. I opened my eyes to find him on his knees
worshiping the tiny bulge of my belly. His lips were warm and
gentle and my throat constricted with emotion. Neither one of us
had truly had time to bask in the miracle we had created. My eyes
pooled with tears and I realized I was no less aroused, but I was
far more deeply affected than I ever had been.

“Come with me.” He took my hand and led me to
the bed. I suddenly felt shy. Without a word he slid the boots down
my legs and they dropped to the floor by my dress. His lips and
teeth tickled my ankles and his hands massaged each part of my body
till we were face to face. With his tongue, he teased the seam of
my lips and I opened to him willingly. His taste was addictive and
his large body covering mine made me feel safe.

He ran his open mouth along my jaw to my ear
and I gasped in delight as his fang pierced the lobe. “You are my
miracle,” he whispered. “I have waited my entire lifetime for
you.”

His voice rumbled in my mind, sending little
shockwaves of the purest pleasure I’d known. Wrapping my arms
around him, I held tight to his body. The pressure in my chest
verged on pain and I buried my face in his neck.

“What’s wrong, my love?” he asked as he took
my face in his hands and searched my eyes.

The simplicity of the moment was harder to
deal with than if we’d been wildly out of control and all over each
other. I had never been loved like this—so completely. Never been
loved by someone who knew my weaknesses and didn’t care. Someone
whose strength matched my own and someone whose wisdom should have
found me lacking, but didn’t.

I traced his lips, nose and high sculpted
cheekbones with my finger and I was free. I didn’t need the love of
a mother or a father. The love of a child would only be an added
bonus to the overwhelming feelings I had for the man who lay atop
me.

He shifted his weight to his elbows, but
still covered me like a blanket. With his lips, he followed my
tears from my eyes to my jawbone to my neck. My inside weren’t big
enough to contain everything I was feeling and I thought I might
explode.

“Ethan, I . . . ” Words were inadequate. I
wrapped my legs around his waist and arched to meet him. I needed
to show him with my body things that words simply couldn’t
convey.

As his body joined with mine, I gasped and
cried out. The slow pace was more erotic and frightening than the
wild coupling we were more accustomed to. Our eyes locked and our
bodies moved in a rhythm that was age old but perfectly new. My
body contracted and tightened around his. We merged and became one
sexual and spiritual entity. Two bodies—one heart.

“I can’t get close enough,” I murmured as the
pace of our lovemaking increased. The intensity burned and my legs
clamped tighter around him as my fingers tangled in his hair.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he whispered. “Watch
what you do to me. Watch what I feel for you.”

My tears made him blurry, but the magnitude
of what he felt could be seen without vision. It was in his magic,
in the strength of his possession—in his essence.

We surged closer to crawling inside of each
other than we ever had. He put his weight on one hand and skimmed
my face, my breasts and hip with his other. He slid in and out and
I raised my hips to meet his thrusts as the pressure built. His
mouth came down on mine, hard and possessive. I bit at his lips as
his body grew larger within me. The slow gentle lovemaking was
over, but the ferociousness of our love and desire remained.

His inhuman beauty and strength sent my core
into liquid meltdown and I writhed beneath him, unable to think or
hold any part of myself back. His eyes never left mine and I
struggled to keep mine open. The vulnerability was terrifying and
raw. My insides danced and contracted around his girth and the
sounds he made went straight to my most engorged and sensitive
spots, unleashing a wild woman inside me that I gave to him
freely—willingly and with every inch of my being.

I screamed as the orgasm hit. My eyes stayed
open and I watch the explosion of pleasure rip across his beautiful
features. With his fangs bared and his eyes hooded he came as hard
as I did. I was more frightened and more satisfied that I’d even
known I could be. The aftershocks of my climax continued to wrack
my body as his mouth descended to my neck. My exhausted body
reawoke as his fangs grazed the soft skin. The aftershocks turned
into the feeling of a massive orgasm about to burst.

“I’m not sure I can . . . ”

“You can,” he muttered into my neck gruffly.
“You will. I will take you there.”

He grew rigid inside me and all of my nerve
endings jumped to attention with need. My fangs dropped and we bit
each other at the same time. I was sure this would end me. The
sheer passion that tore through me was more extreme and acute than
I’d experienced. Colors ripped across my vision and I cried out
against his neck. The frenzied exchange of blood, lust and pure
love sent me to heights that would have destroyed a mortal.

As I floated down I heard his chuckle of pure
masculine satisfaction and it made me smile.

I was so fucking glad I was already dead . .
. because that would have killed me for sure.

Holy shit, Carl had the hairiest back I’d
ever seen.

“It looks like a fur rug,” I whispered to
Ethan.

“I’d have to agree,” he muttered as he led us
to seats beside the mats.

The fight exhibition was in full swing before
we’d arrived. Our tardiness was due to a quickie meeting with the
General who promised to get my Baby Demons and bring them back to
the palace. I was concerned about them . . . actually that was
inaccurate. I was more concerned for the Demons they might come
across. I had no desire to be prosecuted because they munched on
the wrong person.

The fight training room was impressive,
although seriously over the top. I should have expected no less,
but the gross show of wealth constantly surprised me. Padded
bleachers with backrests lined both sides of the huge room. Padding
was an understatement—the seats were covered in buttery-soft
caramel leather. And from the thirty foot ceiling hung four
exquisite crystal drop chandeliers.

Satan had yet to arrive, but the
demonstrations had already begun. Carl’s preparation for the next
fight was doing his left and right leg splits . . . Janet and
Myrtle stood by him and growled at anyone who dared to poke fun at
Carl’s unusual warm up. He wore a tight, fitted yellow wrestling
suit that should have been burned in the eighties and, of course,
the hair blanket on his back.

I poked Ethan. “I’ve never seen anything like
that.”

“He seems to be fine with himself,” Ethan
observed. “If he’s smart he’ll use it to his advantage.”

“How in the world can a hairy back be an
advantage?” I asked as I wracked my brain.

“Well, he could wear a cape and then reveal
it at the last second, alarming his opponent and getting the upper
hand. Or he could slick it back with a conditioner or gel so it
would be impossible to take him from behind due to the slippage
factor.”

“That’s either brilliant or just really
weird,” I muttered, trying to figure out if he was screwing with
me. I looked around the room and got a wonky feeling. “Ethan . . .
um, I think we were set up.”

“I quite agree.”

Everyone in the room was dressed casually,
but not us. We were dressed in the workout clothing that had been
delivered to our suite by a very timid Demon named Norm. Did my
uncle expect us to fight? He was in for a surprise. I had no desire
to fight unless it was life or death. Fighting for fun was not on
my agenda today.

“Do you feel something odd?” I couldn’t put
my finger on it, but something was off.

“A dampening spell,” he replied as he scanned
the crowd. “Satan meant business when he said this would be hand to
hand. The dampening spell prohibits magic.”

“Oookay, that could be a clusterfuck if
something hellish goes down.”

“True. The Guards are the only others dressed
as we are.” He nodded in the direction of a group conversing
quietly. Cole, standing in the middle, sported the same type of
garb that we did—loose fitting black pants and tight black
t-shirt.

“The Devil is always up to no good,” I said.
Ethan just grinned and shrugged.

“All rise for Satan,” someone in the crowd
yelled as Lucifer made his usual movie star worthy entrance.

“Good afternoon, my people!” He was dressed
similarly to us and my stomach fell to my toes. Did he plan to
fight today? Shitballs. “I see we’ve started, but I do believe I’m
just in time for Carl and Moby.”

The crowd went wild and Satan took his seat
next to Amanda. The Sins, along with Dixie and Dante, were right
behind him but Lust and Wrath were missing.

“What do you suppose he did with Wrath?” I
asked Ethan.

“She’s in Purgatory,” a large male Demon
behind me whispered with delight. “She’ll be there for years.” His
grin made my skin crawl a little, but I was glad to hear she
wouldn’t be showing up any time soon. I nodded and gave him a
polite smile. Everyone took way to much interest in others’ pain
and suffering here, but what did I expect? It was how they
thrived.

The crowd was larger than the dinner party
last night and I wondered if Satan had added more suspects or if
these Demons might be staff. I shook my head and worried about how
this would all play out.

“Begin,” the Devil bellowed.

Carl, of the hairiest back I’d ever seen, and
Moby, a sullen looking Demon, took the mat as Journey’s
Wheel in
the Sky
blasted from speakers around the room. I suppose it was
in preparation for tonight’s concert . . . The fighters bowed to
Satan and proceeded to beat the living shit out of each other. What
they lacked in finesse, they made up for in grunts and sweat.

“What the hell?” I mumbled, watching a bloody
comedy of errors unfold before my eyes.

The mild mannered Carl I knew had disappeared
and an out of control violent wooly monster had taken his place.
Moby didn’t stand a chance. Janet and Myrtle jumped and cheered on
the sidelines as Carl literally wiped the floor with Moby.
Literally. The crowd roared their approval. I felt a little sick,
but I was happy Moby wasn’t wiping the floor with Carl.

A bell chimed and the fight stopped. Carl
stood victorious in the center of the mat. He slowly slid into the
splits with his arms raised above his head. Rolling out of the
splits he hopped up, ran to the barely conscious Moby and picked
him up. Cradling him in his arms, he hugged and kissed him, then
encouraged the crowd to clap for the loser too. The Demons managed
a light smattering of applause for the bloody Moby.

The next several exhibition fights were far
more polished and beautiful. No less blood, but far more finesse.
The partners were more fairly matched too. They fought with many of
the same techniques we used and I got lost in the beauty of the
movement. The lack of magic in the room let me relax and take in
the show without worrying if a mystical tsunami was going to blow
up out of nowhere. Amanda looked fine . . .
alright, she looked
slutty
, but she didn’t look like she been beaten and almost
killed less than ten hours ago. Demons clearly healed as quickly as
Vampyres. The music stopped abruptly, right in the middle of
Faithfully
.

“And now for the challenges,” Satan shouted
to the delight of the crowd. “Do we have a challenge?”

The denizens of Hell murmured with excitement
and Cole stepped forward. A hush went through the crowd and I
watched many Demons slink low in their seats so as not to be
noticed by the Devil’s second in command.

“My finest warrior has stepped up to the
mat.” Satan was positively orgasmic. This was not good. Was Cole
going to kill someone? “Who do you challenge?”

Cole glanced casually around the room until
his narrowed gaze landed on Ethan. Ethan grinned at him and winked.
Oh my hell, I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan.

“I challenge the
Vampyre
,” he said
smugly. The crowd gasped and the large Demon behind us patted my
mate on the back.

“It was good knowing you,” he sniffed sadly.
Was he crying
?

“Actually,” Ethan said, still grinning from
ear to ear. “You don’t know me at all.”

I shuddered. To anyone watching it would have
appeared I was nervous for my man. They couldn’t have been more
mistaken.

Ethan stood and removed his shirt. I rolled
my eyes at the gasps of appreciation for his ripped body. He was
mine and I gave the stink eye to two buxom female Demons who were
drooling. His ego was enormous and I suppressed a giggle. He
sauntered slowly to the mat. The tension in the room was
palpable.

Cole removed his shirt and I had to admit the
sexy in the room had elevated greatly. Satan slashed his hand in
the air and Steven Perry started belting out
Who’s Crying
Now
.