4. Ciarán

4

CIARáN

F or years, I watched Ambrose Stone as he took shortcuts through the forest. The highlight of my day was seeing the beautiful young man with blond hair, pale lips, long legs, and a downcast face. Not once has he ever looked happy or smiled. He never had company to walk with him. I knew there was darkness in his life. He reminded me of a fallen angel plucked from Heaven, cast down to earth to suffer for eternity.

I’d wait around the clearing, just to see his face. I wanted him. I knew from the first moment I saw him that he was mine to protect. Mine to keep.

But unless I was somehow summoned to this realm, I’d have to settle for glimpses of his face in passing. More powerful demons, like myself, can see beyond the veil that separates our worlds. A small percentage of the powerful among us can send energy. But unless a magical being summons us, we cannot cross over.

When he ran through the trees tonight, scared for his life with tears in his eyes, his magic was so strong it called out to me, begging for help. The tears streaming down his face made me murderous. I want to hunt down his enemies, quarter them, and present their heads to him on a silver platter.

How could anyone treat my summoner this way—push him to the point of tears?

As he stumbled at the base of my tree, I knew it was my chance to finally claim him. I sent him a gale of chilling wind, opening his book to the page his ancestor wrote decades ago, warning him of my kind.

But he didn’t heed her warning. Now I’m here, and nothing can keep me from him.

As I invaded his mind and saw the atrocities he endured, I silently promised both of us I’d do everything in my power to protect him.

Avenge him.

Ambrose Stone will never be alone again. The witch who wronged him and the community that failed him will beg for his forgiveness before I end them.

Picking him up from the crypt, I carefully cradle his lithe body against my chest.

“I’ll take you home.”

Tonight is for passion, for leading him down a dark, one way path to corruption. I want to show him how good it will feel to have a demon inside him, in more ways than one.

Tomorrow, the reckoning will begin.

“Grimoire,” he purrs as he burrows into my chest.

I see the book sitting askew in a pile of leaves and levitate it to me before we go back to his house. Ambrose is tired, but not asleep. His eyes blink slowly as his breathing evens out.

I probe his mind again and hear his thoughts as if they were my own.

Safe .

He feels protected enough that he can relax. Let his body heal from the trauma he went through tonight.

His home is a small cottage surrounded by trees and beautiful flowers. The front door is cracked open, revealing the darkness inside. There are no lights on, just an eerily stillness. Caulder may be waiting to finish what he started. I’ll burn the entire world to the ground before I let him lay another finger on Ambrose. Nothing will ever harm my summoner again.

I stand at the doorway and weave my shadows through the room. They slither down every hallway, inside each room, in search of any form of life. When they find nothing, I’m satisfied that no one is hiding.

When I get inside, I turn on the light. The entire house is trashed. The glass-top coffee table is smashed, with large shards sticking out of the carpet. The bookshelf has been turned over, and some of the texts are torn apart. Multiple houseplants are uprooted, their pots smashed and dirt in heaps.

The part of the kitchen I can see from here doesn’t look any better. The cabinets are wide open. Broken plates and glasses cover the worn floor. There's food and empty takeout containers spilled over the table and chairs. This destruction has Caulder’s name all over it.

“My house…” Ambrose squeaks as he peeks up from my chest. “It’s ruined.”

“It can be fixed,” I assure him as I put him down and hand him his grimoire.

Slowly, he walks toward the upended shelf and picks up the pieces of a broken porcelain figurine. It looks like a boy dressed in blue, reading a book.

“My parents gave me this when I was a kid. I used to spend all my time reading in the woods, and they said it reminded them of me.”

I extend my open palms, and he hands it to me. Using my magic, I fuse the pieces together again, as if it was never broken. His small smile takes my breath away. I’d spoil him every minute of every day just to see him smile.

I channel my magic on a larger scale and reset his apartment. I move from room to room, putting everything back in its rightful place. Everything looks tidy and clean by the time I’m done.

“You fixed it,” he says with a tone of astonishment. I set his figurine in the middle of the coffee table.

“I said I would. You’ll find I’m a demon of my word,” I reply in a hungry voice.

I haven't forgotten my promise from earlier. Tonight, Ambrose Stone will forget every man who came before me. He’ll only know my touch, my kiss. He’ll crave my depravity and I’ll be more than happy to provide him with it.

Levitating him off the ground, I direct him down a hallway, into a large bedroom. With a wave of my hand, I start a roaring flame in the fireplace in the corner, to provide the room with some warmth and light. Then I lie him out on a plush four poster bed. My shadows bind each of his hands and feet to a wooden column. Seeing him laid out like an offering makes me so feral I lose control of my appearance. My metallic horns erupt from my head. They curl slightly back and away from my face, with a slight curve.

“Your horns are beautiful,” he murmurs as his eyes travel their length.

I climb into his bed, kneeling between his spread legs. His hard, aching cock stands at attention, as if it’s waiting for me. I snap my fingers, and his clothes disappear. His naked body, even with bruising, is a sight to behold. Lithe, compact muscles. Smooth alabaster skin. I wave my hand over him, and his bruises, scrapes, and dried blood disappear. His head trauma is healed, too.

He shouldn’t have to carry the remnants of abuse. Any future marks I leave on his skin will be reminders of how he belongs to me. Of the pleasure I bring him.

“You’re beautiful,” I say as I lean on my forearms and kiss over his pulse.

I trail my lips down his neck, alternating between kisses and light bites. Every time my teeth sink into his flesh, he writhes and moans a little louder, until his sounds fill the room. I bite harder each time, passing his collarbone before I take his nipple into my mouth. I roll it between my teeth, then lave the nub with my tongue.

“Please,” he begs as he bucks his hips off the mattress. “I need more.” My thigh brushes against his cock and I feel his wetness on my skin. His green eyes shimmer with need.

“Beg me,” I order as I grind my stomach into his length, creating sparks of the electric friction he craves.

“Please—Ciarán—I need to feel you inside me,” he babbles, grinding himself into me.

“You want me inside you? You’re addicted to it, aren’t you?” I smirk as he frantically nods his head.

I probe his mind, and he allows me to fill him with my presence. Instead of staying in his mind like the last time, I flood his system and weave my way through every vein and nerve in his body. We’re intertwined as one being. My magic pulses through him gently, like an electrical current. He arches his back off the bed, pulling on my shadow restraints as he groans in pure pleasure.

Each pulse of magic I send through him gets a little stronger. His moans get louder. Sweat trickles down his smooth, flat stomach and his cheeks pinken with arousal. I bring him closer and closer, right to the edge of his release. His pre-cum beads at his flushed tip and rolls down his shaft. I swipe a finger through it and bring his essence to my mouth. He tastes like pure addiction. I’ll never be satiated, no matter how much of him I consume.

On the last few pulses, I wrap a shadow around his throat, momentarily cutting his air supply. His heart pounds faster, and his pupils dilate as his arousal magnifies.

“Writhe for me, summoner. Feel me inside you, controlling every beat of your heart. I hold your pleasure and your life in my hands,” I rasp as I control my innate urge to permanently stay inside him and never leave the perfection of his body again.

Seeing him in this state affects me just as much as him. Bringing him pleasure—seeing him coming apart from my ministrations—turns me on, too. It brings me to my most demonic state.

When he’s close to finishing, I let go completely. I leave him through his mouth in the form of an opaque burst of shadows. When I materialize again, I lie next to him. The shadows around my groin dissipate, revealing my knotted, ridged cock. His eyes widen as they roam over it from base to tip.

“Fuck… Open my bedside table drawer. There’s a bottle of lube in there. I need you to prep me,” he insists.

I find the lube in the drawer, and place it on the beside table. I break my shadows so he can move freely.

“Get on your hands and knees. Stick that ass in the air for me,” I coax him.

He follows my instructions, pushing his round cheeks as high as he can until his face and chest are flush with the mattress. I part his cheeks, revealing his hole. My hole.

“Such a perfect, pink hole for me to destroy,” I whisper, trailing my shadows over his puckered skin. Little goosebumps prick his back as he shivers from my cold touch. “Tell me how bad you want me to stretch your hole, summoner. How full you’ll feel when I push inside you to the hilt.”

“I want you to destroy me,” he whines. “Fucking ruin me, my demon, please !”

I bend down and lick my forked tongue over his hole, and his sharp gasp is music to my ears. He tastes like pure ecstasy—like a budding addiction I’ll never be able to shake. His ass is a feast I want to gorge myself on for eternity. The moans and whispers he makes as I flick his sensitive pucker make my cock ache for something to plow into. I want to hold myself back, be gentle with him for our first time, but my self control dwindles when faced with the perfection of Ambrose’s body.

“Oh fuck. Fuck. Yes!” he shouts as I drive my tongue inside him, loosening his tight ass.

With each thrust, he melts, babbling louder and faster until I can barely understand him. His body starts to shake with pleasure. I pull away and grab the lube.

“Are you ready to feel me inside you, summoner? Do you want to feel me corrupt you from the inside out?”

“Yes,” he moans, pushing his ass toward me. “I want you so deep inside me we become one, Ciarán.”

His words finally break the tenuous control I had on my form. My tail springs out, and I feel my facial features harden. I peek in the mirror on the wall and see my white, glowing eyes. My shadows swirl, filling the room with translucent black ribbons. I wind them around his arms and legs, his throat. A tendril slides over his eyes, blocking his view.

“If you want me to stop, tell me. I’ll never make you feel the wrong kind of pain, my little witch.”

He moans as I rub soothing circles into his back. I take my tail in hand, smoothing lube over it before bringing it to his rim. He pushes back, and I hold his hips still while pushing inside him. I fill him slowly, inch by inch.

“Do you feel my tail stretching you open, my dirty little witch? Are you a whore for my tail?”

“Yes, it’s so thick,” he exhales as I push further inside him. “More, more, more.”

I pull out, much to his dismay, then slide back in. His back arches as he meets my thrust.

I spank his ass, reveling in how his hole strangles my tail. “You’re such a greedy little whore. Just wait until my cock splits you open.”

I ghost over a spongy, soft spot inside him and he tightens around me again.

“Yes,” he gasps as I spank his ass a second time. “Fuck, fuck fuck! I’m so close!”

I pull out. The first time I make my summoner come, it’ll be around my cock.

Moving him over, I sit with my back flush to the headboard and my legs spread open. I motion for him to kneel between them.

“Take me into your mouth and swallow me—get me wet.”

He licks his lips, then lowers himself and wraps them around the head. He sucks me into his warm, wet mouth little by little, until he can lick the underside of my cock.

Groaning, I thread my fingers through his ashy blond hair, giving it a slight tug. I sit back and let him work me over at his own pace. His head bobs up and down in a steady rhythm as he sucks me in.

“Go down as far as you can, summoner. Feel my demon cock hit the back of your throat.”

With wide eyes, he relaxes his throat and takes me deep. He grabs my hand, placing it on his head. I push down until he gags. His spit coats me, dripping down to my knot.

“Fuck, Ambrose,” I growl as he rubs his hand over my knot, squeezing it gently. “You’re driving me insane. I’m trying to be gentle with you.”

He pops off, giving me a mischievous grin I’ve never seen before. The way the firelight dances off his face, highlighting his puffy lips and wet eyes, is so beautiful.

“Who said I wanted you to be gentle? I told you to ruin me, demon. Don’t you want to please your summoner?”

“Little witch, you asked for it,” I growl as I grab his hips and pull him into my lap.

I line myself up, catching myself on his rim. He presses himself down, taking me slowly. His ass sucks me up greedily with little resistance. I press down on his hips, and when my knot bumps against his ass, I unleash the beast I’ve kept under control for his sake. I dig my heels into the bed, bouncing him up and down with one hand steadily holding his hip and the other on his shoulder. He moans like a cockslut, taking every thrust and babbling for more.

My summoner is insatiable. Greedy. Just as hooked on me as I am on him. I pull him closer to me, catching his lips in a succulent kiss, then biting his bottom lip. His blood is warm and spicy, like cinnamon and clove. I lick the last couple of droplets as I thrust up into him, hitting that sensitive spot inside him. His eyes roll back into his head and I use the opportunity to work my way inside his mind again.

You look beautiful slamming down on my cock, little witch. Taking me inside you, I mentally link him. How do you feel?

So. Fucking. Good, he thinks as he takes deep, heaving breaths.

I can feel myself getting closer to my own release, so I push his hips down harder, until my knot is battering his rim. When he comes all over my stomach and chest, I push down as hard as I can, wedging my way inside him. My knot swells, joining us together and trapping my cum inside him. The knowledge that I’m claiming him from the inside out—painting his most intimate place with my seed—makes me fucking feral. I dig my teeth into his shoulder, clamping down on his skin and magically willing the wound to leave a scar.

It shall be a permanent mark, so everyone knows who Ambrose Stone belongs to.

He runs his fingers through my hair and makes a groaning, keening sound that has my cock pulsing inside him.

Recalling my shadows, I let his eyes readjust to the light. Leaving his mind is hard—I’d stay forever if he’d let me—but I sever the connection between us. I release his shoulder and pull him into me, littering his face and neck with kisses. I kiss each bite mark from earlier, licking over them like a crazed, possessive bastard.

“Ciarán?” he murmurs.

The high I ride crashes when I hear the exhaustion in his voice. Was I too rough with him?

“Yes, summoner?” I reply, searching his face for any sign of unhappiness or unwanted pain.

“That was…. amazing .” He buries his face into my shoulder, wrapping his arms around my neck as he breathes heavily.

“You’re mine, summoner. I’ll treat you like the prince you are for eternity.” And I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure he’s mine until the end of days.

“I belong to you, only you,” he says around a yawn.

“Forever.” No matter what…