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Galaxy Stern and Daniel Arlington found themselves, once again, ensconced in stacks of books in the Lethe library. Alex had finished her report on Aurelian’s latest ritual and sent it off to Walsh-Whiteley for review. She was now helping Darlington, who was in endless pursuit of knowledge that would help them push escaped demons back into hell. She was trying to keep her mind on task and take cogent notes, but it was proving difficult. Her eyes were tired and she could feel the nagging thoughts of the past few weeks pressing in on her.
Alex knew better than to think that sleeping together would provide any sort of clarity- in most cases, it did the opposite- but she had sort of hoped that it might, given how unusual their circumstances were. They were very good at the sex part, but had fallen into a sort of conversational stalemate when it came to what the sex actually meant. The night she’d brought him back, it had felt like everything made sense. The orgasms had been powerful and it had all felt so easy. In the harsh light of day and when all of the problems they were facing had rushed back in, so too did the doubts. It felt like the things they weren’t saying were held on the curve of a quivering water droplet, the surface tension always threatening to break but never doing so. Alex was growing tired of the not knowing, and sick of her own timidness. Il Bastone sighed around them, ever sympathetic to her moods.
"So this thing between us..." Alex paused her writing and set down her pen, forced herself to look across the table at Darlington. He needed a haircut. His unkempt hair was trailing into his eyelashes when he bent his head to his books. "It's serious."
In the short time since she’d brought him back the reality of his condition, of the one they shared, had begun to sink in. A lot of it she seemed to intrinsically understand, and Darlington was able to fill in most of the gaps. But there were feelings mixed in with the facts and that was what they'd been dancing around. The uncertainty of what this meant for their relationship was beginning to frazzle her nerves.
"It's immutable, if that's what you mean," Darlington said cautiously, as if bracing for Alex to pull the rug out from under him. "Permanent. I thought you knew that."
"I get that part. I'm just thinking about what comes after this. When you're not Virgil and I'm not Dante." The thought of being thrust from the shelter of Il Bastone made her chest ache. "Are we like...infernally betrothed?"
"What a colorful turn of phrase," he mused, eyes twinkling in a way that was usually reserved for rigorous academic discourse. His expression cooled and collapsed as he thought about it. "I don't think so, no. I am bound to you and there is a connection between us. A reciprocal trigger of our respective abilities, as we’ve seen. But I shouldn't imagine you're beholden to me."
"So there's basically no restrictions on me," she surmised, and Darlington nodded. For a girl who'd spent the better part of her life under the thumb of one man or another, Alex didn't feel the rush of relief she'd expected at those words.
"You're a free agent," he said crisply. Though he tried to conceal it Alex knew him well enough to pick out the hint of bitterness in his voice. Glumness, too.
"I won't make you do anything you don't want to do," she promised. "If you want to go your own way and live a normal life-" Darlington arched one aristocratic brow as if to say, really ? Alex frowned. She could ignite blue flames at will and cross into hell but she still wanted a sense of stability, of predictability in her future. Darlington had always been a bit dramatic, though.
"I mean if you want to move away and fall and love and try to forget. I wouldn't stop you.” The last works came out with a faint warble that surprised her and she swallowed thickly. She would let him walk away from her but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be painful. Darlington laughed once and leaned into the back of his chair.
"Stern, I will always be part demon. And you have to know that if you so much as crooked your finger, I would abandon this imaginary life you're talking about. Crash right through the white picket fence and run to the ends of the earth to find you without a second thought. Surely you can see how that makes me rather unqualified to be someone's husband?" Alex couldn't help the way her blood raced at the thought, heated with the knowledge that nobody could usurp her in Darlington's head, if not his heart. "You, on the other hand, can be with someone. If you want."
There was a flash of gold across his eyes. It was there and gone in an instant but Alex had seen it and known it for what it was. Jealousy. Possessiveness. Some part of him coveted her, maybe even railed against the thought of her being with someone else, but he wasn't supposed to do anything about it. Even if it hadn't been an affront to his genteel upbringing, the bond didn't work that way. He was meant to kneel at her feet, not the other way around.
"That's not what I want," she muttered. It was a pitiful, cowardly response considering the ways in which Darlington was vulnerable to her. But it was something.
–
In the subsequent weeks they fell into a routine of sorts. They made biweekly trips to Black Elm to feed Cosmo and check in on the house. The cat had made an appearance eventually, winding around Alex's legs as they stood in the kitchen sorting through mail. He had sniffed cautiously at Darlington in human form and began accepting rubs under the chin after a few uneventful encounters. His singed fur had grown back snowy white once again.
They tended to Il Bastone alongside Dawes, replenishing stores and delving into the artifact catalogs in pursuit of additional weapons to wield against escaped demons and Reiter in particular. They spent lots of time in the library honing their knowledge. Alex even sorted through some collections by hand looking for answers to questions she couldn't bear to commit to the pages of the Albemarle book. She didn't need Dawes stumbling over the words can demons impregnate humans . She'd never take her headphones off again.
Everywhere, Darlington's eyes followed her. Her body was like a live wire, humming with the awareness of him all the time. She could feel when he entered a room and she thought he could tell the same thing about her. She didn't know if it was because of all the time they now spent together or because of the bond but it felt like they could read each other's moods without speaking. Like they possessed a shared fluency that the others simply didn't.
It made being together both easier and harder. Easier because they weren't constantly goose stepping around each other, wondering what the other person was feeling, and harder because they were thinking about each other constantly. They couldn't read one another's minds- at least not yet, Alex often thought wryly. Still, their eyes only had to meet for a moment across the room for them to pick up on it, the heady throb of want that nearly shimmered in the air around them.
Alex hated herself for not having the balls to ask him. Darlington himself had as good as told her that she had all the power and she was still too much of a wimp to ask the question. Are you my boyfriend? She wasn't stupid. The desire to bang like a screen door was mutual and painfully so. And Darlington belonged to her in the one way that counted. But did he want Alex? All of her? The smart mouth and the scars and the splintered edges? The coiled serpent waiting to strike that was her very spirit? Alex didn't have all the power. She could ask him and Darlington could still say no. He had the power to hurt her. She thought they'd both known that from the very beginning.
Some part of her feared that if she did get the courage to ask him, he would tell her what he thought she wanted to hear in the interest of pleasing her. She wanted Darlington to be the one to show her, to tell her that they were more than just a debt owed. But the demon was only a part of him and the mortal part of Darlington still worked very hard to keep his impulses in check. She would have to see what she could do about that.
–
Spring was ripening into summer at last, humidity settling over New Haven like a hush. Lauren had texted Alex and Mercy about an ABC party happening off campus. When Alex had asked, Lauren explained that it stood for Anything But Clothes, a theme that dictated a non-traditional wardrobe. It was the last place Alex would normally choose to be but she was craving a break from Lethe business. She'd spent enough nights poring over dusty books and pining for Darlington. She needed to let her down a little, and it would be good for Mercy to see her doing something normal. Dawes had gone to her sister's for the weekend and even though Alex knew what he'd say, she invited Darlington, who had predictably declined.
"I don't know that a party is a good idea for me," he'd explained, spinning from his desk to face her where she leaned through the doorway of the Virgil bedroom.
"You have incredible restraint. I think you could manage a few hours of mindless frivolity," she countered with a mocking raise of her brow. Darlington kept himself on such a short leash sometimes. He couldn’t allow himself some shitty beer and a change of scenery, just this once?
"I also hate parties,” he said. He absentmindedly stroked the spine of his book with his fingers, the thumb of his other hand tucked between the pages to hold his spot. She envied that book. She remembered what those fingers could do. She felt heat beginning to climb up her neck and guessed that Darlington would soon be able to pick up on the shift in her thoughts if she didn’t make her exit.
"Fine, suit yourself. I'll just go dance my ass off without you."
Alex wasn't the kind of girl to wrap herself in caution tape, apropos though it would be. She also didn't own footie pajamas she could leave saucily unzipped or a goofy costume from past Halloweens. What she did have access to were bed sheets, safety pins and YouTube. After a bit of fussing and contortion, she'd managed to swath herself in something akin to a toga that made her feel surprisingly regal. It left the upper part of her chest exposed as well as one shoulder and both arms. The makeshift hem brushed her thighs just above her knees. It wasn't nearly as scandalous as many of the outfits she was bound to see but by Alex's standards it was pretty extreme.
Her makeup skills weren't all that versatile but a smoky eye look and some glitter was all that was needed in a dark, cramped room full of drunk college kids. When she stood back to survey herself in the mirror, she actually felt like the person looking back was a bit beautiful. Dawes' cooking had done her good, put a little meat on her and smoothed out her sharpest spots. She was still long limbed and lanky but she'd finally lost that hollow, underfed look that seemed to make people so nervous. Nobody would confuse her for one of the glossy, silver-spooned Yale elites, with her tattoos and scars, but she looked and felt better than she could ever remember. She felt like maybe she could pass for a normal coed, just letting her hair down for the weekend. She hadn’t ever gotten to be that person but tonight she could pretend.
Darlington said he wasn't going to go to the party, and he'd meant it. He had every intention of enjoying the peace and quiet, a rare night where he wasn’t being subtly observed by Dawes or driven to distraction by thoughts of Alex when he was meant to be researching. Alex had been gone an hour before he gave up any pretense of reading. He was alone in Il Bastone and he hated it. The house was decent company but he was uncomfortably aware of Alex's absence. What was she doing? Was she having fun? Maybe she was with Mercy and Lauren, a snarky coterie tucked into a corner watching people make fools of themselves. Or maybe she was dancing, like she'd said. Was she being safe? Was she flirting? Was some guy pressed up against her as she moved to the music?
The last thought stirred him to action and before he could stop himself his feet were carrying him to the door, keys in hand. The floor groaned beneath his feet as he reached for the doorknob and he paused for a moment to heed the house’s objection. Should he really be going to this party if all he intended to do was skulk around Alex, ready to chase off anyone he vaguely suspected of being interested in her? He scrubbed a hand over his face and opened the door, shutting it decisively behind him before striding over to his car. He wasn’t going to let himself do anything stupid. Alex had invited him to the party so he was going to go. Maybe he’d actually try to have some fun, like she’d suggested. He dropped into the driver’s seat of the Mercedes, running one hand lovingly over the steering wheel as he slid the key into the ignition.
Finding Alex hadn't been hard. Since his sojourn in hell, the ability to do so had become second nature. He navigated the streets of New Haven without thinking, as if he were following a beacon. He parked in a line of cars outside the slightly rundown house with people spilling out onto the porch. He pushed the rolled sleeves of his button down higher up his forearms as he crossed the lawn, realizing too late that he failed to conform to the party's dress code. He doubted that it was being enforced and he didn’t plan to stay all night. He was only going inside for a short while, to make sure she was safe. That was what he told himself. He jogged up the steps, past partygoers dressed in trash bags, wrapping paper, flags and bubble wrap. If people were looking at him, he didn’t notice. He moved with purpose toward the front door and into the darkened house.
He’d been right about the party. The debauchery was tempting to his demonic side, the press of bodies and the rampant desire pulsing through the house beginning to loosen his hold on his baser instincts within minutes. His fingertips itched where claws wanted to emerge. He took a deep breath as if to clear his head but the air was close and thick with a mélange of scents: sweat, weed, spilled beer and a half dozen types of cologne and perfume. And beneath all that, the note he’d recognize anywhere. Alex.
He pushed deeper into the house. His progress was hampered by the people everywhere and he had to squeeze through clustered groups and past more than a few couples attached via the face. The music was growing louder as he moved to the back of the house, the thump of bass reverberating through the floors and up into his legs. He found what he supposed would be the dining room, though it was devoid of any furniture befitting the title. There were two kegs, some coolers on the floor and a bookshelf lined with half full bottles of liquor beneath a crooked Scarface poster. A plastic folding table held a shot luge that people were lined up to use. Darlington noticed a tarp had been spread beneath the table to catch the drips as it slowly melted and he had to commend whoever had put it there for the forethought. Beyond the table he saw the door to the basement, a dark maw that as he watched seemed to swallow a girl wearing a dress fashioned from Bud Light cartons. He knew with certainty that Alex was down there.
The music immediately grew louder as he began to descend the steps and a wave of body heat rose up to meet him. There was a strobe light flashing in the corner, each stutter of light throwing the throng of dancers into stark relief before submerging them into darkness again. He merged with the crowd, so many staccato, juddering limbs making it hard to tell one body from another. He shoved through the crush of bodies until he found a wall and put his back to it. He was beginning to sweat as he edged around the room, trying to make sense of what he was seeing through the strobing lights. A haze of moisture seemed to hang in the air.
And then suddenly his eyes found her, just a few feet away, a series of still frames: her oil slick hair whipping around her; arms above her head, tattoos blooming off her skin in the white light; head tipped back to expose the column of her throat. Something glinted in her hair and in the next bright burst he saw it, an artifact he’d never been able to forget. She was wearing the silver crown of flowers from the Manuscript party. She still had it over a year later and she’d worn it tonight of all nights. He was hit with a one-two punch of recollection: the memory of his hallucination at the Halloween party last year, and the sensation of his consciousness bleeding into Alex’s when she took his soul into her body. The earthen smell of that room where he’d fallen to his knees in fealty to his queen of the night, where he’d slid his hand beneath her dress to grasp desperately at her thighs. Had Alex seen that night through his eyes? Did she remember?
In the next flash of the strobe light he saw her, eyes locked into him, a knowing smirk on her face. Her dark eyes shone in the darkness. Of course she’d seen it. His mind had been open to her, their memories swirling together and suspended in the same medium. She had seen it and had worn the crown on purpose. She must have known he’d come, that he couldn’t resist the pull of her even in a muggy basement at a party he’d intended to eschew. She’d felt how much he wanted her that night, not just to be with her but to be of service to her. He had been literally delirious with desire for her. At this moment it felt like not much had changed. He was in thrall to her, maybe even more so than he’d been that night at Manuscript because he wasn’t high.
He stood with his back braced against the wall and his hands jammed in his pockets as he watched her dance. She swung and shimmied her hips and let her fingers briefly catch the hem of her garment as they skimmed up her body. She appeared totally uninhibited as she jumped and swayed with her friends. He wanted to take her home and fuck her into the floor, but first he would watch her a little more. She was enjoying herself, and there was nothing he liked to see more. Some part of her was doing this for him, and that knowledge came with its own pleasure. He was grateful for the darkness of the room. He was half hard just watching her move her body to the beat.
Something distracted him from the show Alex was putting on for him. In the slashes of light he saw a man moving deliberately toward her through the crowd. Darlington felt his shoulders tense as the stranger caught Alex’s eye, shuffling his feet to the music as he entered her space. He moved his mouth exaggeratedly as he spoke to her, presumably to be heard as he introduced himself. Alex tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and craned her neck to hear him. She didn’t look particularly interested but she also wasn’t turning him away. Darlington noted his close cropped dark hair, the heavy brow that lent to an air of brooding mystery if you knew how to play it. He could begrudgingly acknowledge that the guy wasn’t bad looking. He wondered if this was the sort of guy Alex had been drawn to before, back in LA.
If the party itself had been a temptation for Darlington’s inner demon, Alex was a siren song. The sight of this man leaning into her body under the pretense of talking made his pulse quicken. He felt the strain at his temples coupled with the desire to impale this interloper and knew he didn’t have much of a fuse left. Alex’s eyes slid toward him, glinting, and in the next flare of light she was laughing, swatting the man’s arm. A realization hit him that left him equally impressed and irritated. She was toying with him. She knew exactly the effect this would have on him and she was wielding this inconsequential idiot as if he were a stick and dangling carrot. It was a taunt, a provocation, perhaps even an invitation. There was a part of Darlington that was titillated. He would devote more time to mulling that over when it wasn't wrestling a demon for control. She was playing with fire. Minx.
When the dark haired man brushed his fingers against Alex’s wrist with a slow smile, Darlington had no say in his body’s decision to move. He crossed the floor to Alex in a few steps and came to stand behind her. One arm wrapped itself possessively around her waist, hand pressed flat to her lower belly. He pulled her against him and felt the rumble of Alex’s laugh where his chest touched her back.
“Thanks for keeping her company,” he bit out, and the look on the stranger’s face was enough to let him know that his eyes were likely flashing gold. The man stumbled back a few steps and Darlington felt Alex’s hand grip his thigh and slide inward toward his groin. He inhaled sharply through his nose and felt his fingers curl into the fabric of Alex’s costume.
“It was nice to meet you,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the music as she dismissed him. He gave a weak wave and melted back into the throng. Darlington felt a perverse pleasure at the dismay and fear he’d seen on the other man’s face. He felt himself grinning as Alex turned in his embrace. Her eyes glittered with mischief as she leaned into him and brushed her lips against his ear.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” she purred. She looped her arms around his neck and leaned back to look at him. He gave a rueful shake of his head.
“You shouldn’t play with me, Stern. We’re on the razor’s edge as it is and I don’t think this is a good place to test my limits,” he warned, casting a glance at the dozens of people crowding the room who would be unwitting witnesses to his transformation. Alex followed his gaze.
“Come on, everyone here is horny . You’d fit right in.” She bit her lower lip to keep from smiling at her own awful joke.
“That isn’t funny,” he grumbled, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. He gripped Alex’s hips and dropped his head to the crook of her shoulder. He let his lips ghost over her exposed skin when he spoke again. “Let’s get out of here. This party sucks.”
“It does not. It’s at least mediocre. Why don’t you dance with me?”
“I don’t want to dance with you,” he groaned. Alex reared back, a look of hurt clear on her face for just a moment before she smothered it with a roll of her eyes.
“You sure know how to charm a girl,” she said sarcastically.
“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to dance with you here . We can dance at the house.”
“Dance at the house? Is that a euphemism?” she teased, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck. He felt his skin heating unnaturally and his cock thickening again. She was having fun teasing him, that much was clear. He wasn’t not enjoying it, but the atmosphere around them and his lingering jealousy were making it hard to maintain control of himself.
“Alex, please. You’re killing me.” He caught her gaze and held it, his breath coming quick like it always did when he gazed into her eyes. She smiled indulgently and threaded their fingers together.
“Come along, then,” she sighed. She turned toward the stairs and began to carve a path for them, never letting go of his hand. They ascended to the first floor and made their way outside, where he finally felt like he could breathe in the comparatively cool night air. Alex tugged him around the side of the house, under the eaves of a side door.
“Thank you,” he sighed, leaning against the side of the house. He glanced at her through his lashes. Her skin was gilded in moonlight and she was looking at him expectantly. “What?”
“You didn’t like me dancing with that guy,” she observed, edging closer to him. “Why?” Darlington gave a strained laugh and scrubbed at the back of his neck.
“Come on, Stern. You know why.”
“I’d like you to tell me,” she replied calmly. She wasn’t trying to start a fight, and she wasn’t goading him like she had been in the basement.
“You’re really going to make me say it?” he asked. She was standing toe to toe with him and when he raised his eyes she was nodding her head slowly.
“I am.”
“I was jealous. I’d say it’s nothing more than garden variety territoriality, but we both know that’s not true.” He remembered that stranger touching Alex and felt his jaw clench all over again. “I wanted to rip that guy apart just for touching you. And the worst part? I don’t even feel bad about it.”
He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it certainly hadn’t been for Alex to launch herself at him. He felt her mouth on his with a jolt of surprise and a moment later he’d spun them around, pinning her body to the side of the house. He brought one hand to the side of her neck as their mouths moved together and felt the vibration as she moaned into his mouth. Her tongue was sweet as it brushed his but he had to break for air.
“Wait, what about me wanting to rip a guy apart is a turn on for you?” he asked breathlessly.
“The whole thing,” she panted, and he’d never seen her look more beautiful than she did right now with her kiss-swollen lips and shining eyes.
“I feel like I should be troubled by that,” he said, tracing the curve of her bottom lip with his thumb. No matter how many times he butted up against it, he was always stunned by the realization that Alex Stern was unlike anyone he’d ever met. He knew he was staring at her with abject wonder, to say nothing of his erection pressing into her stomach.
“Oh, you definitely should,” she said with a throaty laugh. He pressed their mouths together again, wanting to taste the sound of her giddy amusement nearly as much as he wanted to get his face between her thighs again. Their tongues slid together, hot and insistent, and she wrapped a leg around his so that his thigh was wedged between hers. He pressed his leg up, growling into her mouth when she began rocking against it. He could feel how hot she was between her legs through the material of his pants.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this here,” he warned when they pulled apart again. He ignored his better judgment- he was doing that a lot lately- and slipped his hand under the hem of her makeshift dress. His fingers found the damp material of her underwear and pressed, rolling against her clit slowly.
“More,” she commanded on a whine, fisting his shirt in her hands. He obeyed her, pressing a tender kiss to her lips as he pushed her underwear aside. She was hot and silky slick, his fingers gliding through her folds easily.
“Dear god,” he moaned. He kissed along her jaw bone and down to her neck, settling in to nibble and suck the skin there as he dutifully rubbed her clit. She hiked her leg up to give him better access, panting in his ear. He couldn’t resist the urge to rut against her hip, desperate for friction of his own. Alex had begun to moan when there was a metallic clatter from nearby that broke them apart.
“Sorry!” A girl he didn’t recognize had dropped a cardboard box full of beer cans at her feet, presumably when she’d seen two strangers humping on the side of her house. He tugged at the hem of Alex’s dress and shielded her with his body. The girl picked up the recycling and ran past them to the bin, averting her eyes.
“I’m taking you home now,” he said, already tugging her toward the car. “No more distractions.”
Alex had told Darlington to drive faster no less than 4 times on the short ride home, rubbing her thighs together in the passenger seat so obviously that he nearly veered off the road from watching her. When they finally parked outside Lethe HQ, he rounded the car and pulled her out, hoisting her over his shoulder. She laughed breathlessly as he strode to the front door, which sprung open in enthusiastic welcome. He slammed the door and set her down on her feet. Her face was flushed and grinning, hair disheveled but the silver crown still in place.
Before she could speak Darlington sank to his knees in front of her, right there in the foyer. He pulled her underwear down her thighs and buried his face between her legs. His ferocity nearly knocked her off balance and he guided her hands to his shoulders for stability.
“Fuck, yes,” she sighed as he swirled his tongue around her already swollen clit. Alex had never been preoccupied with propriety but there was something about hearing her swear like that, knowing it was because of him, that made his heart race. He felt her fingers grasp his hair, guiding him where she wanted him, and a deep satisfaction warmed him from the inside out. He could just tell that nobody had ever made her feel this good before and that made him indecently proud. He gazed up at her from his kneeling position and found her staring back at him, mouth agape and eyes nearly black with lust. She grinned hungrily.
“You’re such a good boy,” she purred as she rocked into his mouth. The praise sent a powerful shiver through him, strong enough to make him tremble. He knew she could see it and couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed. He moaned against her and mouthed her more insistently. He brought two fingers up to her cunt, sliding them inside without preamble. She hissed through her teeth, head falling back. He slid them in and out, hooking his fingertips when they were nestled deeply. She cried out as he tugged at that spot inside of her, her legs nearly buckling. He told her to lay down so she wouldn’t have to worry about holding herself up.
When she was settled on her back on the floor he yanked her underwear off her legs so she could spread them properly. He thrust his fingers back inside her and resumed the beckoning motion that produced such wonderful sounds from her. She arched up off the floor, her body contorting itself in pleasure. He rocked his hand into her and used his thumb to stroke her clit. He braced himself above her on his free arm so he could watch the rapture play out across her face.
“Harder,” she panted. Darlington obliged, maintaining his rhythm as he pushed into her with greater intensity. He curled his fingers harder and she cried out. He’d have been worried about hurting her if she hadn’t thrown her head back, pushed her legs further apart. “Yes- just like that!”
He loved the way she took pleasure from him, indulgently and unselfconsciously. She didn’t pretend to enjoy herself to appease his ego and she didn’t rush herself. He wanted to do whatever it took to bring her satisfaction and she seemed to know that, to happily accept the attention he wanted to lavish on her. All she needed was to tell him what she wanted and he would do it. He thrust his fingers into her relentlessly and she tilted her hips up to accept him, moaning all the while. His muscles were beginning to burn from the twin efforts of holding himself up and fingering her but he would break his own arm before he interrupted his rhythm. Alex grabbed his shirt and pulled him down so their faces were close.
“Kiss me while I come for you,” she growled. His mouth crashed against hers in a bruising kiss and he was rewarded with another of her delicious moans. His tongue stroked hers and he swirled his thumb faster over her clit as he crooked his fingers against her g-spot, demanding. Her body buckled beneath him and he felt a gush of warmth in his hand as she cried out against his lips, shuddering through the orgasm. She moaned his name against his lips as she rode his hand and he felt her muscles contract around him, milking his fingers. He let his hand slow as she came down, withdrawing his fingers completely when her eyes opened slowly. Her chest continued to rise and fall erratically and a languid smirk spread across her face as she watched him suck his glistening fingers into his mouth. She tasted just as good as he remembered, an ambrosia he craved all the time.
He was distracted savoring the taste of her which is how he found himself suddenly flipped and pinned on his back. Alex was unbuckling his belt, frantically pulling his boxers and pants down his legs. He helped her to kick them off along with his shoes and when she crawled back up his body, she swung a leg over his hips without preamble. His cock was heavy and hot where it lay hard against his stomach. She spit in her hand- how could something so uncouth be so incredibly hot?- and slicked his length with it.
“ Stern ,” he groaned appreciatively, resisting the urge to thrust up into her hand. Her grip was firm, confident, and she trapped her lower lip between her teeth as she surveyed the sight beneath her.
“This,” she began, swiveling her first over the head of his cock in a way that had him gripping her thighs. “Is gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” Darlington managed to choke out, ever polite. He meant it, too. Alex’s obvious admiration of his cock was undeniably flattering. Alex’s hand slid back down to the base of him and she began a series of faster strokes that had him panting within moments.
“Tell me something,” she said silkily. He nodded his head emphatically as his hips bucked into his hand of their own accord. Anything she wanted so long as she kept doing that. “What do you want from me?”
“Anything you’ll give me,” he breathed, the words flying from his lips before his brain had even stopped to consider them. He felt a scarlet flush of shame on his face at giving such a humiliating, earnest answer. Alex gazed down at him with a benevolent amusement and brought her other hand to him, stacking it above the first. She began to move her fists up and down together but each one moved in a different direction. He was reminded, bizarrely, of a waiter at one of those restaurants who ground freshly cracked pepper over your food. Unlike those occasions, what Alex was doing didn’t make him uncomfortable and he had no intention of asking her to stop. Ever.
“God, that’s…” He laughed, a strained thing, because the feeling was too good and too much. She licked her lips, her own breathing erratic. “That feels so fucking good, Stern.” She hummed happily.
“Take your shirt off. I want to see all of you,” she instructed. Darlington loved how direct she was with him, never unkind, just playful and firm enough to coax him into obeying without question. He regretfully removed his hands from her thighs long enough to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. He had to lift his shoulders off the floor to remove it fully and was rewarded when she did so.
“That’s very good, Darlington. You take commands so well,” she purred. His cock twitched visibly in her hand and if he’d been a man with a little more self respect he might have been embarrassed. She seemed to love it, grinning wickedly as her hands moved faster. “You love this, don’t you?”
He slung one arm over his face, suddenly bashful. He heard her tsk of reprimand and her hands slowed. He uncovered his face to see what she was doing and saw her lean back to brace one arm on his thigh. She used the leverage to raise her hips, canting them forward to reveal herself to him again. With her other hand she grabbed his cock again and guided it toward her slit, rubbing his head along the length of her. She dropped her head back so that her inky hair brushes his legs and let out a rich moan. He gripped her thighs again, sucking air through his teeth as she teased them both with her wetness.
“You’ve got to stop denying what you want,” she told him. He dragged his eyes away from the sight of her rubbing against him and found that beneath her wanton expression was a seriousness. “You don’t have to be ashamed of what you want. I’m not.”
To illustrate her point, she pressed the head of his cock firmly against her clit, using it to pleasure herself. She squirmed and whined on his lap and groaned, digging his fingers into her.
“You’re different,” he said lamely, and Alex fixed him with a fiery look again. “I’m dangerous, Alex. I’m not…good.”
“You and me, Danny? We’re the same,” she said, rolling her hips against him. He thought he might need to start doing math problems to hold himself off if she kept that up much longer. She shifted her position then, leaning over him so that his dick was trapped between them and she could slide along it. He whimpered as his hands went to her hips, encouraging her.
“We are?” he asked, suddenly closed in on both sides by the curtain of her dark hair. She was all he could see, all he wanted to see. She nodded, shuddering as his leaking cock nudged at the swollen bud again.
“We’re unnatural. Who cares? Why fight it?” her breath was warm on his face and her rhythm was picking up. He could feel her getting wetter again, coating him with her arousal, and he rutted against her. “Stop apologizing, Darlington. Just take what you want.”
There was a flurry of movement then. Heat rippled over his body as he felt the demon side of him break free. He grunted in relief as the golden marks of his servitude appeared on his skin and his horns emerged. His hips shifted and his hands curled against Alex, claws dimpling the flesh at her hips as he pushed her down onto him.
“ Yes ,” she cried, sucking in a breath as he sheathed himself inside her. She was slick and tight around him and he didn’t wait before withdrawing and thrusting up into her again. The time for restraint had passed. He grasped the gathered material of her toga and tore it from her body, the fabric rending with a ripping sound before it fell to the floor around them in a pool of shreds. Alex laughed, surprised and delighted to be suddenly naked. Her nipples were two dusky peaks in the cool air. “Very impressive, demon.”
“You’ve got to tell me if I’m hurting you,” he warned her, snapping his hips against her again. She planted her hands on his chest to better match his pace. She gave a little shake of her head, a cocky grin.
“You won’t,” she sighed. Darlington was relieved, both because he wanted to be courteous to her and because he was simply not able to take his time stretching her, getting her acclimated like he had before. Based on how enthusiastically she sank down onto him, he needn’t have worried. Alex Stern was a girl who could take a beating, after all. What was a little exuberant sex compared to that?
Alex was writhing and moaning atop him, taking her pleasure from him, and he was losing himself in the feeling of her. He grabbed her ass roughly, guiding her hips firmly as she rode him, and leaned up to trap a nipple with his lips. She whined and arched against him. He sucked at her nipple and let his mouth travel to the underside of her breast, pressing open mouthed kisses to the tender skin there. She rocked against him and when he nipped at her, she gave a surprised moan and he felt her clench around him. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see the blue flames flickering at her fingertips, climbing up her arms. He sat up properly and pulled her close, licking up her sternum and over to her other breast as she ground her hips against his.
He felt the leash coil around him, a snug pressure at his throat that should have made him panic but instead did the opposite. He knew they were connected now, tethered to one another by Alex’s hellfire, her ownership of him complete and irrefutable. She was close, he knew. His mouth traveled up her chest, over shoulder and collarbone, fastened itself to her neck where he pulled the skin against his teeth with every intention of leaving a bruise. A claiming mark of his own. She whimpered in his ear and it was the most exquisite thing he’d ever heard. He felt her beginning to clench around him and took control of her body, knowing her thighs must be getting tired. He seized her waist, sliding her up and down on his cock, feeling his own orgasm building. He wanted her to go first, needed her to.
“Darlington, I need you to tell me something,” she huffed, her voice hitching as he changed the angle of his hips to put her right where she needed to be.
“Anything,” he said, his voice all gravel. He didn’t think he could deny her in this state, with the leash of fire around his neck. He had a feeling that she could control him entirely if she wanted when they were like this.
“What do you want?” There was that question again, but he wondered if she was asking something different this time. “What do you want from this? Is it just- oh fuck, don’t stop- is it just sex? Because if that’s all you want-” Darlington gripped her jaw with one hand, turning her so their eyes met. He was stunned to find hers were swimming with unshed tears and he had to hope it was only because he was making her feel so good.
“I meant what I said, Alex. I want anything you’ll give me. If it’s just this, I’ll take it.” He rolled them so he was on her knees and she was on her back again, so he could fuck her properly. He plunged himself into her again and felt a jerk on the leash as she slammed her fists down to the floor, a groan wrenched out of her. “But I want more. I want everything.”
“Everything?” she asked, hooking her ankles behind his back and pushing him deeper with each thrust. She looked so uncharacteristically hopeful, her normally guarded face so open to him. “As in…”
“As in I want all of you, Alex. I want to kiss you whenever I want, to fall asleep with you, be the person who knows your secrets. I want to make lesser men piss themselves in fear for so much as looking at you.” Here Alex gave a giggle punctuated with another moan. “I don’t want there to be anyone else for you. Not to belabor the point, Stern, but I’m saying I love you.”
Alex coiled the tether in her wrist, pulling Darlington town so their lips were nearly touching.
“Good answer,” she said, and then they were kissing again and her arms were pulling him down to her. His knees splayed apart so he could get lower, keep thrusting into her while covering her body with his. He wanted to touch her everywhere, to get as close as he could, to drink her in. The taste of honey was sweet on her tongue now and he felt light headed with the intensity of it all. That or the lack of air. At last Alex broke away, pulling in harsh breaths. He snaked a hand between them and found her clit. Her body went rigid as he circled it and her head tipped back into the carpet, the tendons of her neck pulled taut as she moaned. The jumble of filthy words he knew preceded her orgasms came tumbling out of her and she gripped his horns to steady herself as he barreled into her, determined to drive her over the edge.
“Take what you want,” he purred in her ear, ramming into her with enough force that the floorboards gave a squeak of protest beneath their bodies.
“Darlington, fuck-” Her words were lost in a harsh cry as she began to shake against him, gripping him like a tether of her own. He felt the leash tighten, enough that he could hear the blood rush in his ears, and that was all it took for him to lose the last thread of control he had. He surged forward, sliding in to the hilt, and came with her. A wrecked moan was all the warning he could give her, and she clutched at him as they twitched and trembled together.
A little while later, Alex couldn’t say how long, she opened her eyes and gave her demon’s shoulder a shove.
“Sorry,” he chuckled, peeling himself off her and flopping onto his back. She looked over at him, both of them grinning goofily thanks to the dopamine coursing through them. His horns were gone again, the gold marks at his wrists and throat fading, too. She rolled onto her side and leaned over him, hesitating a moment before pressing their lips together in a tender kiss. She felt him hum contentedly against her before they separated.
She sat up and looked around with a snort of laughter. What had once been a sheet was now more like a pile of ribbons strewn about the floor. She picked one up and held it up for him to see.
“Think Lethe has a line item in the budget for sheets?” she asked with the arch of her brow. He pushed himself up to sit beside her, smirking.
“Why, Stern? Did you want to destroy some more?”
“If that means getting you into a bed so we can go again, sure,” she quipped. She got to her feet and stretched luxuriously, her breasts begging Darlington for attention all over again. “We’re getting too old to fuck on the floor. I’m probably going to be sore in the morning.”
“I intend to make sure of it,” he promised, a glint of gold in his eyes again.
It was nearly 3 in the morning when they crawled into bed together in the Virgil room, Darlington’s room. He wore only boxers but Alex had pulled on a pair of Lethe sweats and a t-shirt she’d taken brazenly from his drawer. He smiled as she pulled it on and pulled back the sheets to welcome her. She was exhausted and happy to let herself melt into the sheets. She felt Darlington’s warm body curl against her from behind and she nestled back against him. When his arm slid over her, his palm resting flat over her heart, she was sure he could feel the funny thump it made. She hadn’t known happiness like this was allowed, not for people like her.
The moon illuminated the leaves of the stained glass hemlock tree, casting a soft pattern of light on the old wooden floors. He kissed the shell of her ear before he laid his head down again, tucking it close to hers. She felt her eyelids drooping, the undertow of sleep tugging her down. Just before sleep claimed her she thought of the words they’d exchanged earlier that evening at the party. We can dance at home. That’s exactly what they had been doing, and what they probably would do until the end of time. Dancing around one another, trading power and pleasure between them, always wanting more. Alex knew she and Darlington would give each other all they had. Everything.