Harper wasn’t weak. Not by any means. And with her ability to call on the flames of hell, she could certainly destroy the incorporeal … if it revealed itself. If it wasn’t possessing another at the time. If it didn’t learn from the mistakes it made with her at Jolene’s house. She’d never been up against anything like it before, and it was easy to fear that she’d fail when the consequence of that failure would be the end of her son’s life.
Her self-doubt weighed on her chest and left a sour taste on her tongue. She was Asher’s mother; she was supposed to protect him. Right then, she didn’t feel fully equipped to do it, and that absolutely terrified her.
Leaving the others to continue the meeting, Harper excused herself and headed upstairs. She needed to be alone. Needed privacy. Needed time to assimilate everything and calm the fuck down.
On her way to her bedroom, she paused at the ajar door of the nursery. All was quiet inside. Still, she poked her head through the door. Asher was sprawled on his back in his crib, flat out, dark silky hair all mussed. Her heart squeezed.
Resisting the urge to go dab a kiss on his cheek for fear that she’d wake him, Harper headed into the lavish master bedroom, shed her clothes, and hopped into the walk-in shower of the opulent private bathroom.
She stood under the square rain shower head, arms crossed over her chest, head down, eyes closed as the hot spray pounded on her skin. Her muscles felt sore and cramped from the tension that had arrested her on hearing Knox’s news.
An incorporeal demon. A goddamn, motherfucking incorporeal demon.
Dammit, why hadn’t she just called on the flames of hell that day in Jolene’s house? If she had, the incorporeal would be mere ashes right now. Then again, so would a good portion of Jolene’s dining room, and there would be no hiding exactly how it had burned, since the flames of hell left a red residue behind.
People already worried that Knox could call on them. If they realized that she could also do so, they’d no doubt panic that she and Knox were so strong as a couple that they were a threat that needed eradicating. The other Primes were already nervous that Knox was mated—they didn’t need an additional reason to worry.
Worse, people might even think that Knox had the ability to pass on such a power. She doubted there was a demon alive who wouldn’t be greedy for such an ability. Some could then target him in the hope that he could give it to them. So, yeah, calling on the flames at Jolene’s house would have brought on another set of problems.
That wasn’t why Harper hadn’t immediately called on them, though. She kept the ability in her “worst-case scenario” box, still spooked by how her demon had once gotten immensely drunk on the power. The fact was it wasn’t an ability Harper should possess. She wasn’t built to handle it. She could control it well enough, but not while angry. She wasn’t like Knox, wasn’t good at containing her emotions or keeping her composure. If she’d called on the flames in Jolene’s dining room, Harper’s out-of-control rage would have fed the flames and made them just as out of control.
In that sense, it was a good thing that Harper hadn’t instinctively called on them. But the protective mother in her didn’t care for logic—it wanted the incorporeal dead. And the dark entity within Harper craved that very same thing.
Knowing that stewing on the whole matter wouldn’t help clear her head or calm her nerves, she concentrated on lathering the shampoo in her hair. Let herself enjoy the dig of her fingertips into her scalp and the vanilla scent of her soap surrounding her. Every time her thoughts strayed back to the incorporeal, she slammed a mental door on the subject. The last thing she wanted if Asher woke was for him to touch her mind and feel nothing but fury.
When she was finally done in the shower, she patted herself dry and then wrapped the lush towel around herself. Leaving the steamy bathroom, she grabbed her brush from the dresser on her way into the walk-in closet. Harper then combed the tangles out of her wet hair as she flicked through the underwear drawer.
She felt Knox enter the closet more than she heard him. He didn’t speak. Just came up behind her and brushed her hair over her shoulder, baring her nape. Feeling his hot breath on her skin made a little shiver race down her spine. And the bastard no doubt knew exactly what he was doing to her.
Her eyes drifted shut as he nibbled and licked at her nape. Even through his clothes, she could feel his body heat blanketing her back and beating at her.
“Drop the towel,” he whispered against her skin.
“Knox, my head’s not in a good place right now and—”
He sank his teeth into the crook of her neck. The move was as territorial as it was dominant. “Never keep what’s mine from me.” He licked over the bite. “Now drop the fucking towel.”
The soft command made Harper swallow. Knox’s forceful nature wasn’t an act; he didn’t play a role. No, that assertiveness was part of him. He dominated from within. And damn if her body didn’t respond to it every time, heating and buzzing with arousal. Sexual energy snapped the air taut. And as she felt his intense focus center on her, the outside world disappeared. Her mind cleared of all her worries, leaving only the need to have him inside her. And he’d known that, she thought. Known this was a distraction they both needed.
Clearing her suddenly dry throat, Harper let the towel puddle at her feet.
“Better,” he said, sifting his fingers through her wet hair. “Now stay still for me.”
Her eyes again drifted shut as he licked his way down her spine, scooping up any droplets of water. Goosebumps rose on her skin as a minor tremor quaked through her. She flinched as his teeth dug into one globe of her ass and he suckled hard. “Ow.”
“Just renewing one of my marks,” said Knox, unapologetic. “You know I don’t like it when they fade.” He shoved her towel aside and stood. He quickly shed his clothes, all the while enjoying the sight of his mate. Naked. Wet. Waiting for direction.
He knew her head was spinning with all he’d told her. His own head wasn’t in a much better state. Right now, he needed to feel her come apart around him. Needed the solace and peace that only Harper had ever been able to give him.
Pressing his front to her back, Knox fisted her hair, yanked her head aside and spoke into her ear. “Shall I tell you what I’m going to do to you? I’m going to get you so fucking wet, you can’t take it. Then I’m going to rut on you the way my demon wants me to. Yeah, you’re going to get fucked right up against that wall in front of you, Harper. Hard. Rough. Exactly how we both need it.” He nipped her earlobe. “Turn around.”
Cheeks flushed, Harper slowly turned. Her stomach twisted at the raw hunger and fierce possessiveness carved into his face. She knew that look. It said she was going to get ruthlessly fucked in a way that left her sore. “Knox, we—” He grabbed her chin and plunged his tongue into her mouth. And the world disappeared. All her thoughts were focused on him. On his mouth, so warm and demanding. On his taste, dark and rich. On the feel of his hands, skilled and confident as they skimmed over her.
Digging her nails into his back, she sank into the kiss as his tongue danced with hers; licking, flicking, and gliding against her own. Feel-good chemicals raced through her system, making her head spin.
A little desperate, Harper clawed at his back and tried taking over the kiss. It didn’t work. His hand snapped around her throat and squeezed—a punishment and a reminder of who had the control.
With a growl, Knox pushed her against the wall, liking the way the breath left her lungs in a rush. He pinned her wrists at her sides, pressing her palms against the wall. “No touching me yet.” The sapphire shade of her irises swirled, turned murky, and then darkened to a charcoal gray that blazed with need. The sight made his balls tighten. “Beautiful,” he murmured.