Through a Crimson Veil (17 page)

As soon as his hand was clear, Mika reached inside his jeans and ran the backs of her fingers up the side of his
shaft. It was a small stroke, his pants were in the way, but it was enough to make Conor jerk.

She had about a second to appreciate the response before he had both her hands pinned against the wall above her head. His mouth ravished hers, demanding compliance and reciprocation. McCabe used his weight to keep her in place while he attacked the fastening of her jeans. He wasn’t happy with merely undoing them, however; he pushed them past her hips, and Mika wriggled to help him. Their bodies slid against each other as they both worked to free her of pants.

They managed to get the jeans to her calves before progress came to a screeching halt. He left them there and moved his hand to the flesh exposed by her high-cut panties. There he traced patterns over her flank, stroked the back of her thigh, and when he tucked his fingers under the elastic to grip her butt, she went still.

Desire galvanized her to action. Mika stepped on the back of one sneaker, then the other to get them off. With her shoes out of the way, she lifted a leg, trying to pull out of the faded blue denim. The shift in position pressed Mc-Cabe more firmly against her. He broke their kiss with a low groan and her eyes closed as she relished the insistent prodding of his flesh against hers.

She wasn’t sure how he did it, but her jeans ended up puddled at her feet. Conor lifted her out of them and strode from the room. Something inside her eased as he put her on the bed and covered her with his body. He wouldn’t back out now. Right?

“Get out of those jeans.” She nearly growled the words.

“What?”

Instead of answering, she shoved at his waistband, trying to get him naked.

“You’re impatient,” he told her, but it didn’t sound like a complaint.

McCabe got off the bed, but he didn’t strip like she’d ordered. “Hang on,” he said.

Mika propped herself up on her elbows in time to watch him head out the door. She was going to kill him. No jury in the world would convict her after she told them how many times he’d left her wanting. When she heard him leave the house, she dropped back to the mattress and put her arm over her eyes.

Who said Mahsei weren’t scary demons? She’d managed to drive Conor out of his own home.

But not permanently. She sat up when he reentered the room. “You’re back.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t be?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “I had to get these out of the truck before things went any farther.” Conor tossed a box of condoms on the nightstand.

“Three dozen?” she teased.

“I can always run out and get more.” The delivery was deadpan, and it took her a minute to realize he was making a joke. Delighted, she laughed. Until he reached for his pants.

As he pushed his jeans off, Mika caught her breath. The man was magnificent. He fished a condom out of the box. Without taking her eyes from him, she lifted her hips and slid her panties off. She wanted nothing to impede him when he came back to bed.

His eyes ran over her, drinking in every inch. Shifting restlessly, she waited for him. And waited. Mika ran her fingers over her abdomen, then stopped.

“Yeah,” Conor said thickly. “Touch yourself for me.”

Maybe she’d teased him with that one time too many. “I want
you
touching me,” she said.

“I will.” He climbed on the bed and sat between her ankles. His hands parted her thighs further, exposing her most intimate flesh. “But I want to watch you touch yourself.”

“Will you do it too?” she asked.

He shook his head almost before she’d finished. He looked sheepish. “I’m…too close.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, just stared at
each other. Mika knew she could break him, have him on top of her and inside her in seconds. He
was
close, she could see that. But how much hotter could she make him if she did as he wanted? How much better would it be, the longer they felt this uncontrollable desire?

Smiling slightly, she glided her hand down from where it rested on her stomach and opened herself, arching her hips to give Conor a really good view. Since she was so wet already, she didn’t bother to moisten her fingers. Slowly she teased herself, and gave some gasps and moans for his enjoyment.

Soon Conor’s hands were on the inside of her knees, and Mika lifted her hips as she groaned, both simulating what she wanted to be doing and forcing his palms along her skin. As she rubbed and twisted, she surreptitiously kept her eyes on his face. That would be her best gauge of her performance—and judging from what she saw, she was doing a damn good job.

One of his hands left her. He only stroked himself a few times, but it was enough for her to know that she was affecting him the way she wanted. Mika bit her lip to keep from grinning. While she truly was aroused from their play, she wasn’t going to climax—not from caressing herself. But she would give Conor the best show possible.

He surprised her by running a finger through her folds, and this time her groan was real. His calloused touch made all the difference in her pleasure. When he pulled his hand back, she could see her moisture shining on his index finger, and she almost spontaneously combusted when he licked it. Her breathing hitched as she imagined him tasting her for real, but she’d ask him to do that another time.

“McCabe, I’m not going to come without you inside me,” she warned, “and if you’re waiting for that, we’re going to be here a long time.”

“Stubborn,” he complained.

Mika quit the game. She went to her knees as close to Conor as she could get and said, “I’ve given myself enough
orgasms since we met. It’s your turn—and
not
with your fingers. Do you hear me?”

Conor nodded, his eyes burning with red fire, and he reached for her. Before she knew what he was up to, he had her on his lap and straddling him. Mika shimmied forward until her breasts were against his chest. His cock rubbed at her opening and she almost came right then.

She kissed him then, and somehow it wasn’t the ravenously hungry kiss she’d meant to give, but a slow, tender caress that held too much emotion. It made her uneasy, but when she lifted her head and saw the look on his face, she couldn’t regret it—not when it obviously meant the same to him. Reaching out, she ran her fingers up his jaw.

Conor took hold of her hips, pulling her more snugly against him, and Mika gasped. He bore her down to the bed. Right now, she had a Kiverian male with glowing eyes to pleasure and to take pleasure from; she was going to enjoy every minute. She’d wanted this for so long.

Conor braced his hands on either side of her head and, for a moment that seemed to stretch for eternity, he only stared. It was intimate, unsettling, but somehow exactly right. “Take out your contacts,” Mika ordered. She wanted to see his eyes the way they were supposed to be—bright green and shining.

He pulled back and popped his lenses out. There was no trash can nearby, so he put them on the nightstand next to the bed. Mika parted her thighs as he came back, inviting Conor to lie between them. She closed her eyes to savor the feel of him, then met his gaze again. “Thank you,” she said, running her finger lightly across his cheekbone.

Without a word, he kissed her. For all the earlier frenzy, Conor was taking his time now. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, but it didn’t speed him up. The kiss remained leisurely, as if they’d already sated themselves.

Mika brought her legs up, tilting her pelvis toward his.
That ended the kiss in a hurry. She nipped his lower lip, and his eyes opened. With a smile that was tremulous, she asked, “How much longer? We both want it. Come on, Conor.”

There was a flare of red, and he tried to smile back. It looked more like a grimace, but she knew what he meant. “I want to savor our first time,” he said.

Aw, man. “It’s already special,” she assured him around the lump in her throat. “Because it’s you.” She hoped he attributed the thickness in her voice to excitement, not sappy emotion. But as she looked at Conor, tremors of need passed through her in waves, and she realized he vibrated the same way. That made his intent to take this slow all the more meaningful.

She reached between their bodies and curled her hand around him, watched the muscle in his cheek begin to jump, and she smiled again. Wriggling to align herself to him, she began to guide Conor inside her. His broad head parted her, pulsed briefly before he started to penetrate and fill her body.

“As hard and fast as you always wanted,” she reminded him, withdrawing her hand, not wanting to impede him.

Despite her invitation, Conor didn’t move fast or take her hard. Instead, he eased forward one excruciating millimeter at a time. Impatiently, Mika tried to hurry things up, but Conor took hold of her hips, preventing her.

“Damn it, I’m Mahsei, remember?”

“Yeah,” he gritted out. “I also remember how tight you were around my fingers. We’ll do hard and fast later.”

She started to argue, but his expression told her not to waste her breath. With a mental shrug, she decided to enjoy the pace, and she closed her eyes to focus on the experience of Conor entering her.

The steady pressure intensified and Mika braced herself, but before it became painful, he stopped. It cost McCabe; she could see that when she gazed at him again. The man
looked as if he were the one feeling the pain: sweat covered him, and his grimace was fierce. Turning her face, she gently bit his throat to show her gratitude.

He seemed to know when she was ready for more, and he resumed moving. Again, he stopped when she started to feel any discomfort. He lowered his head to give her a gentle kiss and said, “We’re almost there, honey.”

At last he was all the way inside her, and Mika had to concede that McCabe had been right—she couldn’t have handled hard and fast, no matter her bluster. Even slow and easy had given her a few moments of unease.

Tentatively, Conor rocked his hips. He watched her closely, but she must have passed the test. He began a gentle thrusting. It wasn’t until she moved with him that he smiled and picked up speed.

One of his hands went to her hip, helping her find the rhythm. As she caught on, as they became more attuned to each other, and as she became accustomed to his great size, Mika began to feel really good. Better than good—extraordinary. A soft whimper escaped her, and the way Conor’s eyes blazed made her cry out. She became lost in him, and in the intoxicating pleasure his body was giving her. There was nothing for her except Conor.

He shifted her, moving faster. Mika felt something wonderful approaching, a climax better than she’d ever known, and words started tumbling out of her mouth—words spoken in an ancient language. Words she never thought she’d say aloud. They seemed to incite Conor further, and he gave her the hard thrusts she’d begged for earlier. She rolled her hips each time he buried himself inside her, gasping as euphoria built.

Then he leaned forward and bit her. The pleasure-pain drove her over the edge. Arching her hips as much as she could, Mika froze as she found fulfillment, letting the ecstasy wash over her in waves.

Conor held on to her but didn’t stop. Her moan became a wail, and still he moved. Her first orgasm had barely subsided
before her second hit, and this one was even stronger. She barely heard her voice over the roaring in her ears, didn’t know what she was saying. Or what language she was speaking.

Finally, finally, McCabe let go of all control. Almost blind with her own pleasure, Mika saw the red burst in his eyes. Her rapture was so extreme that she needed his body as an anchor.

She heard him choke back some strange words, and then he stiffened, pouring his seed into her. It triggered her third climax and she cried out even more loudly than before.

It wasn’t until later, as he lay boneless on top of her, as she stroked his body with gentle hands, that Mika realized something and froze. At the end, she had spoken English. The words echoed in her brain. She’d said,
I love you, Conor
.

Oh, damn. She could only hope that he hadn’t heard.

Mika lay atop Conor sometime later, her legs on either side of him. This was one time where even he had to appreciate being half-Kiverian. If they were completely human, she didn’t think either one of them would be able to walk. Of course, if they were completely human, he wouldn’t have been able to get hard so often. She smiled against his shoulder.

He was still mostly erect, still pressed against her belly, but there was no urgent need to move. Not yet.

Conor had surprised her. She’d expected straight missionary-style sex from him, but he’d been less stodgy than she’d assumed. In fact, she couldn’t think of a position they hadn’t experimented with—although the femaledominant that she’d wanted to try hadn’t lasted long before he’d flipped her on her back.

She had to bite back a laugh. McCabe wouldn’t appreciate knowing that his need to be in charge during sex was a demonic trait, pure and simple. Some of the males of lesser branches might be able to handle the female on top, but not Kiverians. Apparently, not even half-human Kiverians.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, giving her bottom a squeeze.

“How’d you know I was amused?”

“I can feel the smile, now give.”

Mika considered what to say. She wanted to be truthful, but if she told him, it might destroy the mood. Partial honesty, however, could work. “I was thinking about your stamina.”

His chest shook slightly, and she propped herself up on her arms. Yep, he was laughing. Mika smiled at his lightheartedness, and swooped down to bite his chin. “Now it’s my turn to ask what you find so funny.”

“I can’t believe you’re still thinking about sex.” He shook his head, obviously in awe.

Considering the vishtau, she had no trouble believing their attraction, but she wasn’t about to get into that. She could imagine his response to the bond far too easily, and it wouldn’t be pretty. “Me?” She raised both eyebrows. “And I suppose
you’re
not thinking about it?” Shifting slightly, she rubbed against him and felt him react.

There was a flash in his eyes, something that reminded her of his emotional vulnerability, and Mika leaned forward again to kiss him. She went soft and slow. “I’ll never tire of you, Conor,” she promised. “But it’s not only me. It goes both ways.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “I guess it does.”

Mika settled back against his chest, content with that. The desire went both ways, as did the insecurity. She was the one who’d fallen in love; McCabe had never used the words, never even hinted at them. While she’d managed not to blurt out
I love you
in English again, she had repeated what she’d said in the demon language over and over in the throes of ecstasy. She’d finally realized what she was uttering and been appalled. Despite that, she’d been unable to stop herself from speaking the words the next time. It was a damn good thing Conor didn’t understand,
because she’d been reciting the ritual to bind herself to her vishtau mate for life.

For life.
What the hell was she thinking? At least both of them had to repeat their part of the ritual before it locked into place, and that hadn’t occurred. Still, her actions left her unsettled. If the bond had been finalized, she’d never be able to be with another until McCabe died. And it would be the same for him—something he’d despise, when he found out she’d lied to him.

How would it feel to lose a mate forever?

Mika might very well find out. She dug her fingers more firmly into Conor’s arms. She cared about him like a soulmate, and he very well could die. He’d risked his life for her last night, and she knew him well enough to feel sure he’d do it again. And even if he lived through this mess, at some point he’d find out the truth about her, and that would take him from her as permanently as death.

Deciding she didn’t want to do any more thinking along those lines, at least not right now, she rocked her body. The feel of Conor’s thick flesh against her was reassuring. For now, he was hers.

His hands tightened, forcing her to still, and Mika raised herself up to check things out. Nothing on his face gave any clue as to why he’d stopped her. If anything, his expression was oddly indulgent and he seemed pleased. Giving a mental shrug, she acquiesced. The amount of sun coming in the blinds said it was late afternoon, and she had a question she wanted to ask. “Are you going out today?”

Some of the easiness left him. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

Okay.
The slight defensiveness suggested that she’d tweaked his ego. Given what she knew about Kiverian males, it probably had to do with her telling him last night that he was no match for the Dark Ones. Mika refrained from rolling her eyes, but it was difficult. Still, he was
her
demon male, and she didn’t want Conor to believe she found him inferior.

Leaning down, she nipped his pec before licking and kissing it. “Because,” she said, propping herself up on her forearms once more, “we’re not done here.” Mika rocked within his embrace. “Are we?”

His agreeable expression returned. “Not even close.”

“But you are in danger.” She couldn’t leave it unsaid. “You know that, right?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you th—” She cut herself off before he got his defenses back up. “I know you can,” she substituted quickly, “but I care about you.”

“Trust me.” His hands stroked her lightly. “There’s nothing to be concerned about. That dark demon didn’t seem interested in me. I’ll be fine.”

The flagrant attempt to pacify her made Mika’s temper flare. “Yeah? And what about the auric assassin who shot at you? Will you be okay from him, too?”

Conor’s eyes narrowed and his face went hard, and Mika realized she’d revealed too much knowledge regarding who’d shot at him. Before a good dodge sprang to mind, McCabe tossed her on her back and pinned her to the bed. He said, “Start talking. I want to know what you know.
Now
.”

Mika considered her options, and decided to be honest. She’d been drilled her entire life to not share demon lore with any outside of Orcus, but Conor wasn’t exactly an outsider.

“Among the darkest branches, a few are born who can wield the power I saved you from the other night. They’re always assassins, for that talent can kill any demon.”

“Even the Dark Ones?”

She tried to shrug, but because he had her hands pressed to the bed, she couldn’t. “I don’t know.” Before he could push, she explained, “When I said there were few of these demons, I meant it. There are very, very few, and I’m not acquainted with any.”

Something flitted through his eyes, but Mika couldn’t figure out what. “Why did you refer to them as
auric
assassins?”

“Because that’s what I’ve heard them called.”

Conor nodded slowly, and some of his weight eased from her. “What else do you know about them?”

Mika wracked her brain, trying to come up with something he’d be interested in knowing. “Most can only fire one blast before they exhaust their power, but rumor has it that some can fire twice before they have to recharge.”

Conor appeared thoughtful. “That explains—”

“Explains what?

That odd expression swept his eyes once more. “That explains why he didn’t attack a second time before we made it back inside the house.”

Carefully, McCabe shifted away and lay back on the bed, one hand tucked behind his head. Mika rolled onto her side to watch him, but his gaze was focused on the ceiling. If he was thinking twice about being lax with his safety, that was good, but she doubted that was the case.

Pushing the hair from her face, she tried to figure out how to convince McCabe that he couldn’t take this lightly. After years of dealing with rogue vampires and werewolves, he was too used to being the biggest badass around. But while he could take down other supernatural beings without difficulty, when it came to the Dark Ones, it wouldn’t be easy. And auric assassins were no walk in the park.

Okay, so she didn’t know the extent of his powers. Maybe he did have some incredible talents—but they might not be enough. And she was right to worry.

A cold breeze seemed to flow through the room, making Mika shiver, and she moved against Conor’s side. He turned his head to look at her, his smile so tender that she felt her heart swell. She was in love with McCabe, whether she liked it or not. And if she wanted more than a few
stolen moments, she was going to have to fight like hell once he found out the truth.

“You’re chilled,” Conor said. He sat up, grabbed the blankets from the foot of the bed and tucked them around her. Once he had her covered, he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her arms, trying to warm her. “Better?”

“Yeah. Much.” She snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

Instead of answering, he kissed her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but something about it reached her the way nothing else could. It wasn’t the same as his endangering his life to defend her, but the way he took care of her, tended to her needs, meant just as much. She traced patterns on his belly, trying to wordlessly convey her appreciation.

Her fingers were beginning to creep lower when he asked, “Did you pick up any rumblings in Orcus about humans attempting to forge an alliance with demons?”

Mika sighed and stopped teasing him. “Why?”

“Two people now have told me they heard rumors.”

“That kind of pact would be a Council-level negotiation, and I’m not placed highly enough in society to know about that. It wouldn’t surprise me, however.”

Conor seemed shocked. “Why the hell do you think humans would want another species loose in Crimson City that’s more powerful than they are?”

Mika half-laughed. “You’re seeing the situation in black and white. If humans thought they could extract a promise—or control a demon army through some other means—do you think they’d hesitate? Think about it. This city is a powder keg, and as tense as things are, it wouldn’t take much to ignite an interspecies war. Humans are at a disadvantage in many ways, but demons are stronger than both werewolves and vampires. Now do you see why some might believe aligning with Orcus is a smart option?”

“It’s a stupid option,” he muttered. “We both know how demons negotiate and what would happen if they were freed.”

Mika shrugged. Some demons would indeed do terrible things. Others would go on living as they always had. The problem was, those who came through the veil would mostly be of the former kind. Humans would think they knew what they were doing, but few actually did. It could quite conceivably be a terrible situation. On the other hand…

With a sigh, she tilted her head to look at Conor. “I know you don’t want demons freed, but not all of us are dangerous.” She wanted to make that clear.

“You think the portal should be opened?” His posture was rigid.

Mika stroked him and thought about it. “I’m not sure,” she said at last. “I’d like to see my mom, my gran, my brother and others able to do as they pleased. But the idea of the dark demons running loose among humans scares me.”

“They wouldn’t be loose for long,” he said, his voice hard.

“McCabe, you make me nuts,” Mika snapped. She dug two knuckles into his side and twisted. “You can’t go hunting the entire branch.”

He didn’t reply, and she sighed. His need to protect humans from demons was another part of who Conor was, and she’d have to accept it about him. “Why don’t we focus now on the dark demon who’s after me, and save the rest of them for later?” she suggested.

Some of the rigidity left his muscles. “I’ll take care of you, honey,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

“I know you will,” Mika agreed, returning to caressing him. She’d have to work on tempering his hatred of demons. “But I wish whoever called these Dark Ones through the portal would send them back already. Although, that wouldn’t really solve my problem, would it? I’d still have to deal with them when I return to Orcus.”

Mika could practically hear Conor thinking in the silence. Knowing questions were coming, she braced herself.

“Can no one else send a demon back except the one who summoned him?”

“Have you studied anything about summoning spells?” Mika asked. When he nodded, she continued, “Then you know most of them are closed. That means there’s a set time the demon can come to this world. Sometimes it’s an actual length of time, say a day or a month. But most incantations involve an action.” Mika debated for a second, then decided to risk sharing. “For instance, the rauthima summoning ritual allows the male demon to remain only until his orgasm is finished. Since he’s brought through the veil in a state of sexual frenzy, his stay in the Overworld is measured in minutes.”

Conor’s jaw clenched, and she quickly mentioned another example. “Or say humans wanted demons loose until the vampires and werewolves were defeated. That could take years. But if the decision was made, the human who called the demons could revoke the summoning and return them before the action was fulfilled. But only that person could, and no one else. However, if someone knew where the gates to Orcus were located, they could physically push a demon back through. See?”

McCabe nodded. “Yeah, I understand. If you called a demon through, I couldn’t return him with a spell—but I could force him back by brute force. Now, what about open summonings?”

Mika shook her head. “There aren’t many of those, they’re very dangerous. With an open-ended call, no one but the summoner could send the demon back.”

“And what if that person died?” Conor pressed.

Mika dug her fingers into him briefly, then said, “Then the demon could remain in the Overworld as long as he wished.”

“When your father summoned you, what kind of spell did he use? Is your stay open-ended or closed?”

Mika stiffened before she could prevent it. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about, but she wasn’t going to mislead him again. “Summoning spells don’t affect me—probably because I’m half human.”

Conor was quiet for a couple of minutes and Mika held her breath, hoping he’d drop it. She didn’t get her wish. “You told me your father called you forth.”

The hardness in his tone made her tense further, but she said easily, “I told you my father has the ability to summon demons.”