012

– Nyxara

The captain’s tongue was talented, I’d give him that.

He had me pinned to the crimson velvet chaise in my chamber, thighs spread wide, tail coiled tight around his throat like a leash made of sin. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise — as if bruises on a succubus ever lasted — while his mouth worked between my legs with the desperate devotion of a male who knew this might be the last pleasure he ever tasted.

I rode his face slow and deliberate, grinding my slick cunt against his tongue, letting every wet sound echo off the obsidian walls. My claws raked through his hair, guiding him exactly where I wanted, deeper, faster, until my breath came in sharp little gasps that weren’t entirely theatrical.

Close. So fucking close.

Hellfire candles flared higher as my pleasure crested, shadows writhing across the ceiling like they wanted in on the fun.

And then the door exploded inward.

Wood splintered. Iron hinges screamed. Cold air rushed in, carrying the metallic tang of rage and fresh blood.

The captain froze, tongue still buried inside me, eyes wide with terror.

I didn’t stop.

I rolled my hips once more, deliberate, savoring the way his muffled whimper vibrated straight to my clit. Only when the wave crashed through me — sharp, blinding, perfect — did I lift myself off him with lazy grace.

My thighs glistened. His face shone with me.

I stood naked and dripping in the torchlight, tail flicking once like a satisfied cat, and turned to the intruder.

Cassian Voss.

Still in the same blood-soaked shirt from the war room, bandages crudely wrapped around his ruined mouth. His eyes were wild — gold bleeding into crimson with fury. Two guards flanked him, but they hung back, smart enough not to step fully into my domain.

Cassian’s gaze snapped to the captain, who was scrambling backward on the chaise, cock still hard and leaking, pants forgotten somewhere on the floor.

A silent snarl twisted Cassian’s bandaged face. His eyes flicked to the guards — a sharp, imperious command.

Leave.

The captain didn’t need telling twice. He bolted past Cassian like his ass was on fire, grabbing his shredded uniform on the way out. The door slammed behind him.

Cassian turned back to me.

I smiled, slow and sharp, and didn’t bother covering an inch of skin.

“Care to join, tongueless wolf?” I purred, voice syrupy with mock invitation. “Threesomes are my favorite… though I’m afraid your new impairment might limit your contribution.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. He pulled a small obsidian tablet from his coat — military issue, voice-to-text enchantment. Crude, but effective for a male who’d lost the organ he used to wield like a blade.

The synthetic voice rasped out, cold and mechanical:

You took my coin. You swore discretion. Yet the girl still breathes under his mark.

I laughed, low and filthy, and stalked toward him. My tail curled lazily behind me, brushing the floor like a predator deciding where to strike first.

“Discretion, darling? I took your coin. I never swore loyalty.” I stopped inches away, close enough that the heat of my body kissed the chill rolling off his. “And I changed my mind. The little moon is far more interesting wearing the Devil’s bite than she ever would have been in your cage.”

His claws flexed. The tablet glowed again.

Traitorous whore. Return the gold or finish the job.

I tilted my head, violet eyes flaring bright.

“Whore?” I echoed softly. “Careful, Cassian. That word only stings when it’s true. And I’ve never sold anything I didn’t want to give.”

I stepped closer — too close — until my bare breasts brushed the blood-stiff fabric of his shirt. My tail flicked up, sliding between his legs with deliberate precision, the velvet tip teasing along the seam of his trousers.

He stiffened. Not just from rage.

I leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“You want me to finish a job?” I whispered. “Then learn manners. You don’t kick in my door mid-orgasm and demand service like some entitled pup.”

My tail pressed harder — a warning, a promise.

“I’m keeping the gold,” I continued, voice velvet and venom. “Because I earned it for listening to your pathetic whining. And I’m cancelling the contract because I’ve decided I like her exactly where she is — terrified, glowing, and thoroughly knotted by the only male in this dominion who could ever break her properly.”

Cassian’s chest heaved. His hand shot up, claws aiming for my throat.

I caught his wrist mid-air, nails digging in until blood welled.

My smile widened.

“Try it,” I crooned. “I’ll take more than your tongue this time.”

For a heartbeat, we stayed locked like that — predator against predator, hellfire crackling in the sconces, snow howling outside.

Then I released him with a dismissive flick, stepping back.

“Run along, Cassian,” I said, turning toward the chaise as if he were already gone. “Plot your little revenge. Scheme with whatever southern dogs will still take your coin. Just know this: the next time you interrupt my pleasure, I won’t stop at tongues.”

I glanced over my shoulder, eyes glowing violet.

“I’ll take something you actually miss.”

He stood there a moment longer, tablet clenched in white-knuckled fingers, rage pouring off him in waves.

Then he turned and stormed out, guards scrambling after him.

The door hung crooked on its hinges.

I sighed, stretched like a cat in sunlight, and flopped back onto the chaise. My fingers trailed lazily between my thighs, still slick, still sensitive.

Sleep took me like a lover who knew exactly how rough I liked it: deep, dreamless, and utterly spent.

The sheets were still warm when consciousness tugged at me again. A mouth on mine: hot, demanding, tasting of smoke and fury. Teeth scraped my lower lip, fangs pricking just enough to draw a bead of blood. A hand circled my throat: not playful, not teasing. Possessive. Tight.

My eyes snapped open.

Azrael.

He was straddling me, shirtless, hair wild like he’d torn through the fortress to get here. Golden demonic runes glowed across his bare chest, pulsing in time with the rage in his eyes. His grip wasn’t cutting air yet, but it promised he could. One squeeze and I’d see stars.

I arched a brow, even as my pulse kicked against his palm.

“Who were you fucking?” he growled, voice low and lethal, the kind of sound that made lesser demons piss themselves.

I smiled slow, lazy, and licked the blood from my lip where he’d bitten me.

“Seriously…?” I purred, voice husky with sleep and amusement. “That’s how you wake me, Az? No good-morning kiss, just jealousy and attempted murder?”

His fingers flexed, tightening just enough to make my breath catch in the best way. Heat flooded straight between my legs.

“Don’t play coy,” he snarled. “I can smell him on the sheets. On you. Some pathetic wolf pup who probably came in his trousers the second you looked at him.”

I rolled my hips beneath him, deliberate, letting him feel how ready I already was. His growl deepened, vibrating through his hand into my throat.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, love,” I whispered, claws trailing up his forearms, leaving faint red lines. “It makes you sloppy.”

His eyes flared molten. “I’ll show you sloppy.”

He crushed his mouth to mine again: no gentleness, just raw claim. Tongue invading, fangs clashing, devouring the taste of me like he wanted to erase every trace of anyone else. His free hand pinned both my wrists above my head, claws pricking my skin.

I moaned into him, arching up, tail lashing against his thigh hard enough to sting.

He broke the kiss only to drag his fangs down my throat, pausing over my pulse.

“You let him touch what’s mine,” he rasped against my skin. “You let him taste you.”

“And you’re angry,” I gasped, wrapping my legs around his waist, grinding against the rigid length straining his leathers, “because you weren’t here to watch?”

A dangerous chuckle rumbled from his chest. His hand left my throat only to rip the silk sheet away, baring me completely. Cool air kissed my skin; his gaze burned hotter.

“I’m angry,” he said, voice dark silk, “because I want to kill him for thinking he could ever satisfy you.”

He released my wrists just long enough to shred his own trousers. No patience, no finesse. Fabric tore like paper. Then he was back over me, thick and ridged and already leaking, pressing against my entrance without entering.

Yet.

His hand returned to my throat: tighter this time, thumb pressing just beneath my jaw, forcing my head back into the pillow. His eyes locked on mine, demonic gold swallowing the pupils.

“Say it,” he demanded.

I bared my fangs in a grin, tail coiling tight around his thigh, urging him closer.

“Make me.”