Vacation Hell: Princess of Hell #4 (17 page)

BOOK: Vacation Hell: Princess of Hell #4
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I felt the pleasure coil in him, his balls tightening as they pushed against me, his cock pulsing until it exploded, and I drank not just his pleasure but magic in.

“Fuck me,” he gasped as he came. And came, the hot jet of his cum making me even more slippery.

“David’s turn,” Auric ordered.

Tristan collapsed on the bed beside us, and David took his spot. As he pounded my willing flesh, I could feel my own pleasure rising. But I held on. I wanted a big one, a giant, screaming O.

“Suck on Teivel’s cock.” The words emerged through gritted teeth as I felt Auric straining to hold on as my pussy fisted him tight. I didn’t have to look for my vampire’s dick because he grabbed me by the hair and fed it to me.

The cool, smooth length of him gagged me, and I did my best to suck, even though I was mightily distracted by the pounding cadence of the cocks in my pussy and ass.

As cream hit the back of my throat, my ass, and my channel, more of it splashed my back, but I didn’t really notice because my climax rocked me.

Rocked me like a fucking hurricane and burned me like a volcano erupting and drowned me under a sea of pleasure.

I couldn’t scream, not just because of the shaft in my mouth, but because I had no air, no thought, nothing but bliss. And power.

So much power flooding into me.

The magic pooled in me, thick and pulsing, and my previous limits expanded to accommodate the new flavor I’d found. I glowed with it. I basked. I wanted to stretch my arms and sing with the glory of it. But this magic had a purpose.

I pushed the energy from me, shaping it like an invisible torpedo. I targeted it for one person—my dad. It arrowed through the wall, and I kept a link to it, watching with ghostly eyes as it zeroed in on my father, sitting in a chair, wearing a robe with his legs crossed—not exposing his junk for once. He read a book. Dear abyss, he read Heaven’s
Dummy Guide to Being a Saint
.

The missile plunged right into my dad’s chest. He never saw it coming, and his eyes widened as the magic I’d somehow fine-tuned to wipe spells exploded. It was the most powerful thing I’d cast and I had no idea how I crafted it, but it worked.

Layers of enchantment, some of them old, peeled from my father. Spells I never knew he wore. Were they his doing or someone else’s? Didn’t matter, they disintegrated before my magical blast.

To my surprise, my father grew larger, muscled. His face lost some lines. His hair grew dark. He turned into a veritable Adonis as my magic removed the spells covering him.

I’d wonder another day why my dad felt a need to hide his true visage. Why not take advantage of his good looks? Surely he had a reason, but that wasn’t what I cared about.

Was my daddy still broken? I couldn’t tell.

As the magic I’d projected dissipated, my otherworldly vision wavered before winking out. But with the amount of power I’d projected, surely I’d fixed him.

Except now I needed a fix, seeing as how I was empty again.

“Oh, boys.” I tapped them on the shoulders where they lay collapsed around me. “Anyone
up
for round two?”

Lucky me, they were. Even more awesome, Tristan decided that perhaps being a part of my family wasn’t a bad thing after all.

As Lucifer’s daughter, I might never enjoy a traditional happy ever after, but by all that was hellacious, I’d live life with adventure, zest, impatience, and lust. Oh, and chocolate, because contrary to what some folks say, it’s better than bacon.

Epilogue

T
he arguing
at my door woke me the next day.

“I’m waking her up,” snapped my mother.

“We should give her some privacy instead of barging in,” my father said in a soothing tone.

I sat bolt upright in bed.

“It didn’t work,” I exclaimed.

“What didn’t work?” Auric muttered. “I thought we worked fine, all three times.”

“I meant the spell on my dad. I thought it was gone, but listen.” I put my fingers on my lips and stuck a boob in David’s mouth when he opened it.

We held still and spied.

“Shall we go taste some wedding cakes today, my love?”

My mother made a noise of distress. “No, I don’t want to taste cakes. I want you to tell me that they’ll all taste like sawdust because I’m taking away your freedom.”

“How could you think that? I cherish our upcoming nuptials. I’ve even written vows.”

“Oh, Luc.” My mother sobbed. I kind of joined her. My daddy was still broken, and I couldn’t fix him.

Yet.

The giant orgy hadn’t fixed my dad. The other sex marathons I had afterward hadn’t either. Short of a lobotomy, I doubted much could. My daddy was, for all intents and purposes, a law-abiding yuppie. In our grief over his condition, my mother and I bonded.

Given the original Lord of Sin was somewhat incapacitated, as his heir in training, I got delegated to run Hell. In other words, I drew the short straw, and those who’d lost to me ran before I could demand we pull again.

Cowards.

How hard could it be to run Hell?

Twelve hours later, I was sobbing in a puddle of blood strewn with limbs, saying, “We have to get my daddy back. We have to.”

Hell wasn’t the same without his implacable iron fist. The damned souls were running amok. The minions weren’t respecting me. And the demons were all fighting.

Lopping off a few heads helped. Stretching a few on the rack also played its part in settling some of the civil unrest. Throwing a few of the more annoying damned ones into the abyss for recycling? Yeah, that really calmed shit down. But I knew it was only a matter of time, minutes probably, before they started again.

We needed my daddy, the Devil, back. Like yesterday.

I screamed that in his face as a matter of fact as I shook him, wearing that bloody gray cardigan of his that he’d matched with respectable, pressed black corduroys.

“Where are you, Daddy?”

“Right here, Muriel.” He beamed at me. “My beautiful daughter. Did you see the lovely gown I chose for you to wear for the wedding?”

Indeed I had, a fluffy, orange and yellow, cheerful monstrosity with flat-bottomed ballerina shoes so I wouldn’t hurt my feet. All that concern about my feet, but what about my eyes?

What about the sanity of everyone in Hell? Because while my father might have lost his evil edge, he’d found something to occupy that space—wedding planning.

Lucifer was planning the wedding from hell. He even insisted on having bells.

Kill me now.

No wait. We had to kill Ursula. This was all her fault. And she’d pay for it with her life—once I escaped the dress shop Daddy dragged me to for my fitting.

Stayed tuned for Lucifer’s story,
Hell’s Bells
.

Author Bio

H
ello and thank
you so much for reading my story. I hope I kept you well entertained. As you might have noticed, I enjoy blending humor in to my romance. If you like my style then I have many other wicked stories that might intrigue you. Skip ahead for a sneak peek, or pay me a visit at EveLanglais.com This Canadian author and mom of three would love to hear from you so be sure to connect with me.

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