He closed the distance between us, cradled my face in his hands the same way he had when he’d kissed me to place the recall implant. The tip of his erection brushed my belly as he murmured something in demon.
“Goddamnit,” I said in a rough voice. “Kiss me already.”
Smiling, he did so, gently at first, then with more intensity. There was nothing pure or weird about this kiss, and that was damn fine with me. His hair fell over us as he held my head with one hand and slid the other to the small of my back. He pulled me close against him, erection hard between us as he near growled into the kiss. I knew I didn’t need to ask him not to get me pregnant. Not only did I know in my essence that he would not without my permission, but I had my own means now, my own power to make certain of such things.
Groaning low, I skimmed my hands over his hips and back to cup his ass. His glutes tightened deliciously in my grasp as he rocked against me. His hand tangled in my hair, holding my mouth to his in an uncompromising assault on my senses. I welcomed it eagerly, moaning with pleasure.
His other hand moved to cup my breast, caught my nipple between thumb and forefinger and lightly squeezed. My breath quickened, and a low whimper escaped my throat. My hands stroked up his back, heat rising in my belly at the play of muscle beneath his skin. I reached higher and fisted my hands in that glorious mane.
Mzatal broke the kiss, breath shuddering as he throbbed between us. I smiled and raised an eyebrow. The big bad scary mofo demonic lord liked having his hair pulled? I tightened my grip and he groaned in response. I chuckled low in my throat, ridiculously pleased that I’d discovered something that could fire him. Despite all the time I’d spent with Rhyzkahl, I couldn’t name a single thing that I knew turned him on or fired a deeper reaction. He’d always been in perfect control, never revealing himself. That Mzatal would open himself to me like this touched me deeply. Desire lit his eyes as they met mine, and he smiled, acknowledging.
In the next heartbeat he lifted me as if I’d never eaten a donut in my life, near shoving me onto the dresser, then dropped his head to my right breast. Heat flared through me as his teeth found my nipple, and I gasped in a breath. I’d found one of his buttons, but he sure as hell knew what mine were, too.
“Mzatal,” I groaned and wrapped my legs around him. He was thick and hard and more than ready, and holy shit I wanted him inside me. He continued to suck and bite my breasts, wringing a variety of incoherent noises from me. I clutched at his hair, grinding against him, my breath coming in ragged gasps. “Come on, damn it.”
He lifted from my breasts, gaze smoldering as he positioned against me. Passion, dangerous and heady, seethed behind his eyes. Both hands slid down to grip my ass, yet maddeningly he still didn’t pull me onto him. Instead, he bent his forehead to mine, went perfectly still for what felt like forever though it was probably only a second or two. The physical retreated, and we entwined in utterly silent dreamlike spaciousness, the whole universe too small to contain us. Timeless. Transparent. He lifted his head from me, and the glorious sensations rushed in again, intensity and awareness impossibly heightened.
In a swift motion, he pressed in hard to full depth and held me there while I whimpered, nearly overwhelmed by the sensations and need.
A smile curved his mouth, and his hands tightened on my ass as he began to thrust, pulling me onto him with each deep stroke. I locked my legs around him, urging him on. His potency resonated deep within me, echoing with elusive familiarity. Instinctively, I touched the grove, pulled that power to meld with his, then sucked in a sharp breath as everything about him leaped in response. Our potencies merged in exquisite perfection, like the tone that sounded when a ritual came into alignment, but more. Every sensation, every movement, every mental touch snapped into breathtaking clarity.
Mzatal tangled a hand in my hair, pulled my head back to nuzzle my neck as he murmured something in demon. The meaning of it wound through me as he began to thrust with greater urgency. I have missed you. And I did not know anything was missing.
Yeah, I had what he was missing. And he sure as hell had what I wanted. Yet even as I thought it, I knew there was so much more to it than this moment of physical pleasure, and that knowledge spiked it all even higher. I made a low guttural noise as I wrapped my hands hard in his hair. His breath hissed as I pulled, and he thrust harder, which was pretty much the reaction I was hoping for. “Yes,” I gasped. “More.”
He was happy to oblige, grip uncompromising as he drove into me, deep cries accompanying each thrust. The scent and sound of him wound through my senses, and the feel of his skin was like a thousand points of familiar pressure. A coil of heat writhed in my belly, fired by the combined potency and his ardent attention.
He spoke in demon again as he shuddered against me, driving deep. Come home to me, beloved. Come home.
“Fuck…oh, hell yeah,” I gasped. Not as poetic, but it got the point across. It only took another few seconds before I tightened my legs spasmodically, crying out as I clenched around him. Waves of shuddering pleasure expanded into limitless space, rebounding and shaking me again and again. A deep cry ripped from his throat as I climaxed, and in three more thrusts he released as well, throbbing deep within me as we mingled, merged and complete.
My breath came in uneven gasps as he slowed. My hands clenched and unclenched in his hair. I pulled him close, then nuzzled the crook of his neck as our combined potency thrummed between and through us.
Still within me, he shifted his grasp, slid his hands up my back to hold me close.
“Zharkat,” he murmured as he nuzzled my neck. A nameless thrill went through me. Beloved.
Straightening, Mzatal lifted me from the edge of the dresser, then held me firm in his arms, keeping me deliciously impaled upon him as he moved to the bed. I kept my legs tight around him as he lowered me to the soft quilt. He looked down at me with a smile that lit his entire face and kissed my forehead, eyes and cheeks, before lowering his head to nuzzle my neck. Already he was hard within me again, and I made a pleased sound in the back of my throat as I arched into him. There was a lot to like about the stamina and quick recovery time of demonic lords, and Mzatal had no problem demonstrating exactly how easily he could bring me right back up to the peak. His hands and mouth and cock worked me into a gasping frenzy that had me begging for yet another release. With merged potencies and deep passion, we carried each other to new realms. In the end, we collapsed together in a glorious tangle of limbs and hair, spent and shuddering and smiling.
At long last I caught my breath and regained the ability to speak. I grinned over at him where he lay propped up on one elbow beside me. “Thanks, Boss.”
Mzatal laughed, stroked fingers down my cheek. “I am forever dubbed thus.”
“Yep, you’re stuck with it!” I said, then gave a languid sigh as my body hummed delightfully with pleasure and potency.
He shifted and swept all his hair over his shoulder. I eagerly reached out to slide my fingers through the silky mass. “There is time yet for sleep,” he murmured with a smile, skimming a hand over my breasts and down my belly.
My loins tightened at his touch. I could get used to this merged-potency-multiple-orgasm-thing. “I’m not sleepy at all,” I said with a sly grin.
He raised an eyebrow, then his face mirrored mine in a smile. “Wrap your hands in my hair again, and I will do…bad things…to you.”
I gathered a handful of hair, tugged. “How bad are we talking?” I asked. I tugged again, harder.
He closed his eyes briefly, muttered a sentence in demon that meant something along the lines of holy fucking shit it feels good when you do that. His reaction sent my pulse racing and heat rushing to my naughty bits.