[Morgan Kingsley 04] - Speak of the Devil Page 18

  “So you guys are going to keep me prisoner here?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, and, I’m sure, looking pretty damn belligerent.

  “It would be safest for you to stay inside and out of sight,” Raphael said. “No one is going to figure out you’re taking refuge here, of all places.”

  That was true. As far as the outside world was concerned, I was right now hanging out at the house of Tommy Brewster, a legal, registered demon host whom I hardly knew. The police wouldn’t find me here, and neither would Psycho Demon. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to do jack shit to clear my name or identify my enemy while living under house arrest, either.

  A little help, Lugh? I thought at him, though I already knew he wasn’t going to be on my side in this battle.

  I’m always on your side, his voice chided gently in my mind. But you’ve got nowhere to go right now. I agree that talking to Shae may yield some results, but the club won’t open until nine tonight.

  So you’d actually let me go? I asked, somewhat incredulously.

  Not by yourself, of course. But you can take Saul and Raphael with you.

  I bristled at the idea. I can take care of myself! If I get caught by the police, the last thing any of us needs is for Saul or Raphael to interfere. And if I run into Psycho Demon, I can let you take control.

  I could almost see him in my mind, his face taking on that familiar, patient expression as he explained the facts of life to me. Remember, we’re trying not to kill the host. I’m not at all sure I’d be able to restrain him without killing him all by myself. That’s why we sent two demons after David Keller.

  “I gather from that distracted look on your face that you’re having a conversation with my brother,” Raphael said.

  I blinked, momentarily disoriented. I’d gotten so absorbed in my mental discussion that I’d almost forgotten about the outside world. Something about that creeped me out—it was like I’d checked out of reality for a minute or two. I shook my head to clear it.

  “Yeah,” I said. “We’ve got a plan for tonight.” I explained what I had in mind.

  Saul and Raphael both listened without interruption, but I could see suspicion in both their expressions.

  “What?” I finally asked, throwing my hands up in disgust, hating the way they were looking at me.

  “Are you sure Lugh is okay with this?” Raphael asked in a voice steeped with skepticism.

  I swear I could feel my blood pressure rising. I had to fight a mighty battle not to say something about how I didn’t need Lugh’s permission, because, in a way, I did. I took a couple of slow, calming breaths before I answered.

  “Yes, I’m sure. You’ve said it yourself many times: I’m a shitty liar. So decide for yourself: Am I lying?”

  Raphael accepted that argument with a reluctant shake of his head, but Saul still looked doubtful. He didn’t know me well enough to understand how badly I sucked at lying, and the fact that Raphael was now taking my word for it probably was more of a hindrance than a help, considering their relationship. I was trying to figure out how to convince Saul, when suddenly I wasn’t in control of my body anymore.

  Lugh reached out and grabbed Raphael around the throat, then lifted him off the ground with one hand. Raphael’s eyes bugged, but he didn’t struggle.

  “Morgan has my seal of approval,” Lugh said, then lowered Raphael to the floor and flowed back into the background where he belonged.

  As soon as Lugh ceded control back to me, a headache slammed behind my eyes and my stomach gave a lurch. I considered dashing to the sink to hurl, but I thought maybe I could keep the nausea in check.

  “Are you all right?” Raphael asked as he rubbed his throat. There was no mark there, and I doubted Lugh had actually hurt him, though I supposed it had been a disconcerting experience.

  “Yeah,” I said, closing my eyes and trying to steady myself. “Apparently, I can’t even let Lugh in for a few seconds anymore without suffering the consequences.”

  Sorry about that, Lugh said. Saul wasn’t going to believe you unless I told him it was okay, and I had to prove it was really me talking.

  Raphael was giving me a curious look. “How much has he been in control lately?”

  “Not enough that I expected to get sick,” I muttered. We knew my body seemed to object to repeated control changes, but we hadn’t exactly determined how much was too much. Still, there’d been times when he’d been in control much longer and we’d exchanged more often without my suffering ill effects. “Maybe I react more strongly when he takes control without asking first.” Or maybe the idea that he now seemed able to do so at will was belatedly triggering my mental alarms and making me sick.

  My stomach heaved, and I just barely managed to keep my lo mein from making a return appearance.

  “I think I’d better go lie down,” I said, and neither Saul nor Raphael argued.

  I’d felt about a thousand times worse the last time I’d had such an adverse reaction to the control changes, but I found that wasn’t comforting at all right now as I lay on my bed with a pillow over my face, my head throbbing in time to my pulse. I thought about taking some aspirin, but Lugh didn’t think it would help, since he couldn’t figure out exactly what was causing the reaction. Besides, it wasn’t like Raphael would have aspirin sitting around the house. Demons don’t get headaches or colds or any of the other annoying physical ailments that plague mankind.

  Apparently, I fell asleep, because the next thing I knew, I was in Lugh’s living room. Even asleep, I could feel the pounding in my head. I winced, and Lugh frowned.

  “I wish I could figure out what’s causing that,” he said.

  “Yeah, me, too,” I responded, closing my eyes even though I knew that wouldn’t make the pain go away.

  I jumped a little when I felt Lugh’s hands on my face. When I’d closed my eyes, he’d been sitting on the other end of the sofa, but now we seemed to have changed locations. Instead of the living room, we were in the bedroom, on the sinfully soft king-sized bed. Lugh had a fondness for red silk sheets, but he must have known they would instantly put me on seduction-alert, so he’d settled for ivory-colored silk instead.

  He was behind me, his back probably resting against the headboard, though I didn’t turn to see. His warm, large hands cupped my cheeks.

  “Lie down,” he urged me. “Let’s see if I can make it any better.”

  If I’d realized my head was going to end up on his lap, I probably would have resisted his suggestion. But the hands on my face were so soothing, and his voice was so hypnotic, that I complied without thinking.

  A hint of alarm surged when my head made contact with his crotch. His legs were spread, and I was cradled between them. Not a safe position to be in with Lugh, but before I managed a protest, his thumbs drew exquisite circles on my temples, and my whole body went limp. The pressure was just right, and the headache instantly eased.

  I couldn’t help the little groan of relief that escaped me. I suspected it made Lugh smile smugly, but I didn’t want to open my eyes and see.

  His hands were so big, he could massage me from chin to forehead all at the same time, which he proceeded to do. His skillful, dextrous fingers found every knot of tension and gently but firmly erased them. I relaxed even further, abandoning myself to hedonistic pleasure, shutting down my worries and cares so I could better concentrate on the physical sensation.

  I don’t know how long I lay like that, basking in a warm glow, feeling safe and comfortable for the first time in ages. I think it was a long time, because my every muscle felt like heated candle wax, soft and malleable, when I started noticing sensations other than Lugh’s hands on my face. His fingers were still at work, still drawing circles on my skin, but there was no more tension left to find. The headache had disappeared entirely.

  Which was all very nice, but now that I wasn’t drifting anymore, I couldn’t help noticing that my, er, pillow was very, very hard. I kept my eyes closed and tried not to tense, but of cour
se there was no corner of my mind Lugh couldn’t see into, so he knew how aware I was of his arousal. He was also aware that it didn’t exactly repulse me.

  Considering how many times Lugh had made advances, you’d have thought that by now I’d be ready for it. But no, I had relaxed into his caresses as if he couldn’t possibly have any ulterior motives. Worse, I wasn’t leaping to my feet and putting as much distance between us as possible.

  I could tell Lugh was leaning over me, because the tips of his long black hair tickled my neck and shoulders, which were apparently bare. I didn’t think they had been when the dream had started, but then my clothes frequently seemed to morph or downright disappear when I dreamed of Lugh. The tickle moved down the slope of my breasts. Beneath my head, Lugh’s arousal pulsed, making my traitorous nipples tighten.

  “Don’t,” I gasped, but I didn’t move away or try to close my mental doors. One thing was for sure—if I allowed myself to drown in the pleasure of Lugh’s body, no thoughts of my fucked-up life would enter my mind and hurt me. Would it be so wrong to finally stop saying no, to put off for just a while longer the necessity of dealing with everything that was wrong in my life right now? After all, it seemed like Brian and I were history.

  “Don’t give up yet, Morgan,” Lugh said softly just as his hair finally brushed over one of my nipples and caused me to arch my back. “Brian is worth fighting for, and it’s high time you put some effort into the fight yourself instead of making him do all the work.”

  I’m sure I would have had something clever to say to that, except at that moment the hands that had been caressing my face began following the path his hair had taken. Another moan escaped me, and my whole body vibrated with tension as I tried to tell myself I wanted him to stop.

  I rallied my mental troops enough to speak, though not nearly enough to make myself avoid his caress. “How can you be trying to fix Brian and me at the same time you’re trying to seduce me?”

  “As I’ve said before, I’m not in competition with Brian.” He chuckled softly. “I like him, and I enjoy your time with him almost as much as you do.” His fingers slid around the outside of my breasts and then under, avoiding my aching nipples. “And I believe I’ve proven before that I can pleasure you without making love to you, so I’m not sure this counts as a true seduction.”

  Forbidden arousal tugged at my center as I remembered the erotic fantasy Lugh had created for me. It had been my own hand that brought me to climax, but it had been the visual Lugh had created of Dominic giving Adam a blow job that had made that climax inevitable.

  I was still too prudish to be comfortable with the idea that seeing two men together aroused me, but there was no way I could deny that reality. And even the fact that Lugh had been distracting me with sex while he drove my body around without my permission didn’t erase the memory of that pleasure.

  “Trust me,” Lugh murmured, and I don’t know whether it was his words or his tone, but the shiver that ripped through me then was equal parts excitement and alarm.

  I felt, rather than saw, the change in scenery around me, since I still hadn’t gotten around to opening my eyes. The bed disappeared from under me, and suddenly, instead of lying on my back, I was on my feet, hands stretched above my head. My eyes flew open, and I took in my new situation in quick, almost photographic flashes of awareness.

  Hands up, wrists circled by decadently soft, fur-lined manacles that attached to a metal bar above my head.

  Legs shoulder-width apart, similarly shackled to a pair of metal poles that reached from floor to ceiling.

  Body encased in a tight, stretchy black minidress.

  Lugh’s enormous bed about five yards away, now draped again in his favorite red silk sheets and sporting a footboard that had never been there before.

  “Lugh!” I gasped, alarm overtaking the arousal I’d felt before.

  “I’m right here,” he whispered from behind me, his breath warm against my cheek. His hands rested on my hips.

  I tugged at the restraints on my wrists. “I don’t like this,” I said, my voice coming out in a hoarse croak I barely recognized as mine.

  “Shh,” he said as he pressed his delicious, warm body up against my back. “Remember, this is just a dream. Nothing bad can happen to you here.”

  I swallowed on a dry throat, my emotions ping-ponging wildly, moving too fast for me to identify them all. I hated the sensation of the cuffs around my wrists and ankles, hated the fact that I couldn’t move, couldn’t run away. And yet it was hard to deny the tingle of anticipation that existed beneath it all, the desire to find out what would come next.

  “Think of this as a very realistic sexual fantasy,” Lugh whispered in my ear, his breath hot upon my skin. “You can enjoy things in fantasy that you know you wouldn’t like in real life.”

  The room was lit by a multitude of candles, which rested on a collection of end tables clustered near the bed. Beyond the reach of the candles’ light was an impenetrable darkness. As my heart palpitated in continued confusion, two figures emerged from the darkness.

  Considering the events of the last erotic dream Lugh had conjured, I was not entirely surprised to see Adam and Dominic. Adam was fully clothed, but he was clearly dressed for success. His black jeans clung to his every contour, showing off an erection of prodigious size. His black T-shirt was similarly clingy, giving me a mouthwatering view of his well-muscled chest and six-pack abs.

  Dominic was stark naked and looked to be very happy about it. His erection was no match for Adam’s in sheer size, but it was nothing to be embarrassed about, either. His nipples were so tight they looked almost painful, and the look on his face was one of dazed pleasure. His eyes were almost black with lust, his olive-skinned cheeks flushed with it. The fact that he was wearing a studded leather collar and that his hands were bound together by an intricately knotted length of black satin cord didn’t seem to bother him in the least.

  Lugh’s hands moved on my hips, and I jumped, having almost forgotten he was there. A low, sexy chuckle emerged from his throat, and the sound seemed to vibrate through my every nerve.

  Giving me a smoldering, dangerous look, Adam put his hands on Dom’s shoulders and roughly jerked him around to face the bed. Dom didn’t seem to have any objection to the rough handling; in fact, if it was possible, his erection seemed to gain even more enthusiasm.

  I had a feeling I knew why Lugh’s bed suddenly had a footboard.

  “Bend over!” Adam barked at Dom, who shivered and broke out in goose bumps.

  Dom and I moaned in unison as he followed his lover’s orders, grabbing the footboard with his bound hands to steady himself. I wanted to rub my thighs together—whether to deny the moisture that was building there or to give my aching flesh some relief, I don’t know.

  Adam placed his hands on Dom’s hips, just the way Lugh’s hands rested on mine. And when Adam started to caress up and down Dom’s flanks, Lugh’s hands mirrored the motion. My skin quivered under his touch as his hands slid down past the hem of my dress and then up again. The dress was still a fragile barrier between us, but I knew that wouldn’t last long. Some little part of me thought that maybe I should object, but, of course, I didn’t.

  When Adam’s hands cupped Dom’s ass, Lugh pushed the hem of my dress up and out of the way. I wasn’t surprised to discover I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Feeling Lugh’s hands on my naked bottom was practically enough to set me off all by itself, even without the visual of Adam and Dom.

  “Don’t you dare come yet!” Adam said sternly, and though he was supposed to be talking to Dom, I had a feeling the words were meant equally for me.

  Dominic uttered an incoherent protest and pushed himself more firmly into Adam’s hands. Adam made a clucking sound with his tongue as he ceased the caress and put his fists on his hips. I no longer felt Lugh’s hands on my bottom, and the loss inspired a pitiful mewl of displeasure.

  “You should know better than to complain,” Adam said, his voice even ster
ner.

  “I’m sorry!” Dominic sobbed, but even an S&M ingenue such as myself could tell there was no genuine remorse or distress in his voice.

  “I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”

  My brain wasn’t functioning at optimal efficiency, but even so, I could put two and two together. Lugh had been mirroring with me what Adam had been doing to Dominic. And Adam was about to do something to Dominic I had no desire to experience for myself.

  Lugh sensed my fear before I could even come close to articulating it. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, and I believed him implicitly.

  Adam gave Dominic a long, agonizing moment to think about what was going to happen. From my vantage point, I could easily see the way Dom’s buttocks tensed as he waited, his thighs quivering with anticipation. If I’d needed any reassurance that he was loving every minute of this, all I had to do was take a look at his cock, flushed and stiff, ready for action.

  When Adam pulled back his hand, both Dom and I held our breath. Then when Adam’s hand gave him a frighteningly firm smack, we both cried out.

  I would have jumped about a mile if my feet weren’t so firmly pinioned, because Lugh’s hand smacked me at the same time. I was about to make an indignant protest about him breaking his promise, but I realized almost instantly that, despite the loud noise I’d heard, Lugh had given me nothing more than a gentle pat. No pain whatsoever, though that didn’t stop me from flinching when he did it again.

  It was a distinctly … odd sensation, watching Adam turn Dom’s ass red with blow after blow while a shadow of those blows fell on my own flesh. Dom was clearly loving every minute of it, his cock dripping pre-cum despite the fact that it should have hurt like hell. I couldn’t at first decide whether my body was enjoying the simultaneous stimulation or not, but as Dominic’s cries of pleasure surrounded me and seemed to echo off the invisible walls, my internal censor—the one who told me I was strictly forbidden to enjoy anything about this experience—went on vacation.