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Winter break was supposed to be a peaceful and quiet time for Alex.
She had traveled home, albeit unwillingly, for Thanksgiving break as she had told her mother she would. The flight used the money Eitan had deposited in her account, and she had gotten to spend the week eating weird health foods and going to healing sessions with her mom.
It had actually been nice. Not the healing sessions and fake magic, but spending time with her mom. She felt comfortable around her, even if she did spend the majority of the time obsessively checking her phone to see if Daws or Turner had texted her about some horrible event going down on campus.
She’d felt like she finally had the right words to say to her mom, and knew how to put her at ease. Things she used to find annoying about her were just quirky and charming now. She wondered where all of this fondness for her mother had been when she was younger, but she wasn’t trying to introspect too hard over tofurkey.
Coming back and finishing out classes for the semester was a breeze. Mercy was still absent, taking to studying in the library until late, sneaking in when she thought Alex would be asleep, waking up early to avoid morning breakfast together. Alex told herself she didn’t mind; Mercy was a grown up, and if she decided she needed space, then Alex would give it to her. She would be lying if she said she didn’t miss their conversations though.
The lack of socialization left only school work and Lethe on her plate, the latter of which was much easier now that Darlington was back. He took over writing the ritual reports for Alex for the semester, and was always hunched over some book in Il Bastone whenever she needed to ask him something. He had been avoiding going back to Black Elm, for obvious reasons.
Finals came and went in a flurry of caffeine and papers and late nights, and when it was all said and done, Alex collapsed onto the bed in the Dante room and slept for 16 hours straight.
She awoke the Saturday after finals to Dawes knocking on her door.
Alex pulled on a sweater and opened the door, bleary eyed in the mid-morning light. Dawes was holding a duffel bag and her over-stuffed back pack.
“Hey, I’m heading out. I stocked the freezer full of leftovers and there’s stuff for sandwiches in the fridge. Can you make sure he,” he eyes darted up towards the Virgil Suite, “actually eats something? He forgets sometimes when he’s all…” She waved a hand in his direction, indicating perhaps everything about the way Darlington was.
Alex wanted to tell Dawes that it wasn’t her job to keep track of Darlingtons health, but she nodded anyway. Besides, if she went through all the trouble to get him out of hell, she might as well try to make sure he didn’t starve himself now that he was out.
Alex gave Dawes a brief hug, wished her a happy holiday, and then she was left to the quiet of Il Bastone.
She got dressed properly, and took a load of her dirty clothes to the washer in the basement.
After eating a late breakfast, Alex headed up to the library to find books she might need for her classes next semester. She was determined to get ahead of the reading, and had already found her syllabi online for the spring.
She passed by the study where Darlington was, reading a book with an italian name that looked like it belonged in a museum.
She stopped in the doorway. Darlington looked up at her expectant. She couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that he was actually here, that they had actually pulled him out of hell. She hasn’t really had time to absorb it, but the realization dawned on her in a wave of relief.
Darlington was still looking at her, confused now. She realized she was just gawking at him like an idiot, so she forced herself to speak.
“Have you eaten yet today?” she asked, then quickly added, “Dawes wanted me to make sure you were eating.”
He set down the book gingerly, chuckling a little bit. “Yes, I am capable of feeding myself.” Alex bristled, until he said, “but thanks for checking in. How did finals go?”
“They went. They’re done. I was just going to get started on reading for next semester.”
Darlingtons eyebrows shot up. “Look at you, Stern. Overachiever.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have much else to do. Unless you need help with anything?” She gestured at the archaic tome he had set down.
In reality, she was looking for an excuse to spend time with him, not that she needed one. They were linked via the soul, or whatever it was, but that didn’t mean she always knew how to act around him. They still hadn’t discussed their connection in any meaningful way.
“Research. Nothing in the Lethe library about Wheelwalkers or hell, but this is a guide to supposed other realms that might exist alongside our own. Other afterlives and so on.”
So he had been researching her? She felt a little pang of embarrassment that she hadn’t thought to do the same since the gauntlet, but then again, Darlington didn’t have classes to attend to.
“Anything about heaven in there? I could use a nice vacation.” She settled in a chair opposite him.
“If only. No, a lot of it seems to be the useless ramblings of a religious scholar. He didn’t even get hell right, so I’m not inclined to take it very seriously.” He paused, and Alex looked at him. She could tell there was a question on his mind, and she would wait until he spoke it. Their conversations had been going like this a lot recently, both of them tiptoeing around any heavier subjects or deeper questions, such as what are we?
But in the end, Darlington only shook his head and picked up the book again. “If you want to do your own research that’s fine, but that’s up to you. I’m not in charge of your required readings anymore.” He had meant it as a joke, Alex could tell, but there was a tense tone to his voice as he said it.
Regret? she wondered. Bitterness at being robbed of his year of being virgil?
In the end, she ended up reading the first book on her required reading list in the study with Darlington, curled up with a blanket over her. They both only spoke up occasionally to remark on something in their respective books, and took a break around three for a late lunch. The whole time they read together, Alex could tell he was watching her. His page turns would grow slow, and she would flick her eyes up only to find him quickly turning his head towards the fire place or the ceiling, trying to disguise his interest.
She knew he wanted something of her, but what that thing was, she couldn’t guess. He had been different since he came back, almost more uptight than before, keeping himself zipped up to the collar. He acted like indulging in more than a finger or two of cognac or a nice meal would suddenly transform him into a monster. Then again, maybe he was right. Alex didn’t know anything about demons, or half-demons.
She did know Darlington though, and he was waiting for something from her. She knew she should broach the subject of their bond, of their journey, of what she might be, but she could never find the words. She spent that night laying awake, imagining the scenario in which they actually did talk about it.
Darlington would probably want to find some way to be rid of the control she had over him, obviously, even though they didn’t know the extent to which it was. She wasn’t planning to find out soon either; the last thing she wanted was for Darlington to feel like he was trapped on a leash with her (even if he technically was).
She would agree to help find a way to break the bond, even though all she dreamt of was his soul up against hers, the clarity of the note it made ringing through her subconscious like a lighthouse guiding her to shore.
Together, they would break the bond and Darlington would be free to live his life, away from her, away from Lethe, back to fixing up Black Elm to its potential. Back to his map of the magical in New Haven.
The thought of it made something in her ache, like a cracked rib. She couldn’t bear the idea of another semester in Lethe without him, no matter how great Dawes was. She had gotten him out of hell because she needed him, even if she would never say as much out loud.
So, she simply never brought it up. They spent the better part of a week together, falling into a quasi-routine. They alternated between who made breakfast and who made lunch, had their alone time, but almost always came together each day for dinner and reading in the study. And they talked little of Hell, of demons, or of themselves.
About a week after the beginning of break, Alex was awoken from a dream to the sound of something clattering to the ground in the kitchen. Suddenly alert, she had crept her way downstairs, hoping to god that the house hadn’t let in some rando for some reason. Visions of intruders flashed through her head, of Blake barging in and pinning her to the ground. She tried her best to push the thought away, ready to call on Darlington if she needed him. She pushed the kitchen door open slowly, quietly.
It was just Darlington, sitting on the floor, drinking soup straight from the container that Dawes had left it in. Another container, the apparent spice of the noise she had heard, laid empty and disregarded on the ground. He drank the soup greedily and with such disregard for manners that Alex wondered for a moment if she was hallucinating. Some of it spilled down his chin and onto his shirt.
“Darlington?” She said, her voice loud in the quiet of the house.
His eyes snapped open and he sputtered a bit, quickly setting the tupperware container down. He looked up at hee for a second, seeming confused by his surroundings. “Alex? I—“
His eyes were gold in the light of the still open fridge, and Alex felt the hairs on the back of her neck stick up.
“Rough night? Need a whole crock pot of soup to help you through it?” She lifted the empty container from the ground. He wiped his mouth with a towel, washed his hands in the sink. She dropped the container in the sink next to him. When he didn’t respond, she said, “Darlington, hey, it’s okay. It’s just soup.”
He still didn’t respond, just scrubbing his hands furiously under the water. She waited, arms crossed, until he finally turned to look at her.
“You gonna explain why the fuck you’re acting so weird?” she asked.
He paused, and leaned against the counter. “I was hungry. My appetite has been fluctuating wildly since I came back, and so…” He gestured at the near empty soup container.
I have appetites. Not all of them wholesome.
Alex shivered as the thought of the words.
“It’s harder at night.” Darlington wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the ground as if that would free him from the situation. “If I can’t sleep right away, I stay awake, tossing and turning. Thinking about… horrible things.” The last part came out in a rush before he shook his head, glancing up at her finally. “I’m sorry to worry you, you can go back to bed.”
“What kind of horrible things?” The question was out before she could stop it, but she wanted to know what she was dealing with. “Are we talking about murder or…?” She let the question hang in the air.
“No! No, nothing like that. I just…” he gestured with his hand in the air, as if he could conjure the words he needed. What a rarity, to see Darlington at a loss for words. “Sometimes, I have impulses that are difficult to temper. That’s it.”
“Like the impulse to eat soup like a goblin?” she asked, and he gave her a grateful smile.
“Yes, like that. I normally just get up, take a cold shower, and I’m good until the morning. But unfortunately, the soup siren song was to powerful tonight.” He grimaced. “Sorry about that. We might have to order out for a few nights near the end of break now.”
She shrugged, turning to head out of the room. “Darlington, I eat like that on a normal basis, and I’m not a demon. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
He followed her back up the stairs, and she could feel the tether between them. She could feel how their steps aligned. Could he feel it too? She found herself suddenly wanting to ask him, but it was still a forbidden topic.
Instead, Alex stopped at the door to the Dante room. “If you need anything, come and get me. If the cold showers stop working and you feel the need to kill children or something.”
She had meant it as a joke, but Darlington nodded his head gravely. “Thanks, Stern. I would say the same to you, but I doubt you’ll have that issue.”
“You never know. You haven’t seen me hangry yet.”
They both smiled, and went to their separate rooms.
That night, Alex dreamt of those golden eyes, of looking down at tan skin and blue fire. She dreamt of grabbing Darlington’s hair, of kissing his neck. He gasped out her name, Alex, and she licked the sweat off his neck. He grabbed her ass, her tits, and she breathed his name into his ear. She woke in the morning covered in sweat and feeling gross. Gross and horny.
She could barely look Darlington in the eye over breakfast, even as he easily talked his way through what reading he had done last night before bed, excited about some new finding. This new finding was a single paragraph in a thousand page book he had been skimming through, but it was something.
She gave her best impression of interest, but each time she looked at him, she could feel her face flush, could only remember the feeling of his warm skin beneath her hands in her dream. She quickly averted her gaze anytime his eyes met hers, not the golden tone they had been in her dream, but the light color of his normal self.
You’re not 16, it was a wet dream, its not that big of a deal, she kept telling herself, over and over… and over.
Finally, Darlington said, “Stern, are you even listening?” His eyes bore into her. She cleared her throat.
“No,” she replied honestly, and he sighed, dropping his fork onto his plate of eggs. He had graciously cooked for them, and Alex had noted that he gave himself a larger portion than he normally would have. Dawes will be happy to hear that the golden boy of Lethe is not starving himself.
“What’s on your mind?” His question was nonchalant, but she could feel the tension underneath it.
“Nothing, Darlington. I’m tired. Surprisingly, its hard to sleep after you find a demon in the kitchen eating all your food.” It came out harsh, and he lowered his gaze. He was ashamed she realized, and he thought she was acting weird because of his weird episode last night. She almost laughed out loud. “Darlington, I’m joking. It seriously was not that big of a deal. It’s just food. Get over it.”
Once again, a bit harsher than intended. But, he relaxed a bit, and finished his eggs. She took the dishes from the table and loaded them into the dishwasher. She thought about the torture of sitting across from him, reading all day, his eyes glancing at her over his brow, his fingers pensively tapping on the arm chair. In hee dream she had put them in her mouth.
I need to let off some steam if I’m going to even be remotely normal today.
“I’m gonna go take a bath, I think.” She said, upon emerging from the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t look at me like that. I haven’t even used the tub a single time, and I’m… tired.” Horny. He shrugged and made himself comfortable in the living room, setting a record playing. Something classical that Alex didn’t recognize.
She closed the door to the bathroom, relishing the quiet and peace. She had always found Darlington attractive, but it had never come with such a rush of desire before.
She ran a warm bath for herself and sank down into the water, marveling at how deep the tub was. She finally understood what all of the fuss was about. If she made it out of Yale alive and still human, she would make sure she got a nice paying job and an apartment with a tub nice and deep, like this one.
She could still hear the song playing from the radio downstairs, could hear Darlington shuffling around, probably cleaning. He only really played music when he cleaned and when he drank, and it was too early for the latter.
It didn’t take long before she let her hand travel down her body. She was warm and relaxed and safe inside the walls of Il Bastione. She hadn’t jacked off since– well she couldn’t remember the last time. Sharing a room and trying to get a guy out of hell really put a damper on any self-love time she might have had in the last year. But she felt so relaxed in the warm water, and the memories of the dream were too fresh in her mind.
In the dream, she had been on top of him, but in dream logic she was also under him. Their souls were together and felt so good, so right, to be so deeply intertwined. The sharp smell of his aftershave surrounded her, something she had barely registered in waking life. She was fucking him, hands on his chest, and he was part Darlington and part demon. Horns and claws and golden eyes but smooth tan skin, warm to the touch. She had grabbed his hair, kissed and bitten his neck, right where the collar normally appeared. He had groaned her name, Alex, and she had nearly burst with the sensation, how good and right it all felt. His claws dug into her ass and she rode him, calling out his name, manifesting the leash of blue flame. She had used it to tie his hands above his head, securing them to the headboard while she took whatever she wanted from him.
It had continued like that for a while, longer than she would like to admit. And right at the point of release, she had woken up, her own subconscious edging her.
In the bath, she relived it all, feeling her body respond to the idea. God, this was so gross. But they were bound via the soul, so things couldn’t get much weirder for them. She hoped he could feel what she was feeling right now. She also hoped that he could, in some hideous little part of her brain.
She circled her clit with her fingers, letting the sensation overwhelm her. She hit a good rhythm and let her head fall back in the tub. She let a groan escape her lips, and then quickly put her fist to her mouth, forcing herself to be quiet. She waited with baited breath as she heard footsteps pause in the hallway outside.
There was a tentative, soft knock at the door. “Stern, you okay in there?”
She lightly bounced her head against the tub, cursing herself. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He voice sounded too peppy, and she barely convinced herself. When she didn’t hear him walk away, she sighed. “Really. I’m fine. Just trying to relax.”
She hoped he would get the hint, and she waited for his footsteps to recede down the hallway. This would just turn into another thing they didn’t talk about. When she didn’t hear him leave immediately, she grew impatient and began her motions again, keeping herself quiet this time. Perhaps he had left and she hadn’t heard him. Or perhaps, he hadn’t.
The thought of him, standing behind the door and listening as she got herself off in the tub sent a bolt of desire through her core, and she couldn’t help but speed up her hand. She closed her eyes, trying to recall the images in the dream. She let out a little sigh, and wondered what he would be thinking, if he was standing out there listening.
A little performative, she let out another groan, tangling her free hand in her hair. She could imagine him, very easily, hard in his pants. Maybe he was touching himself on the other side. Maybe he would get off at the same time as her, her name a whisper on his lips–
She came with a groan, and felt all of her muscles relax. The warm water only deepened the effect, and as the orgasm rolled through her she swore loudly. She rose it out, the image of his face hovering in her mind.
She stayed in the water, coming down from the high, too relaxed and blissed out to care about the world for a moment. She had really needed this. She should do this more often. She should—
Her senses flooded back into her, along with the searing panic of something like shame. Had she just masturbated to the idea of Darlington? Had she just masturbated in front of Darlington? Well, it wasn’t really in front of him, but it might as well have been. She had even put on a little show. God, how disgusting. He had probably walked away, putting in headphones, desperate to not hear whatever she was doing to herself and just get on with his cleaning routine.
She stood, toweled off quickly, and went to the door, trying to think of an apology or explanation that would smooth this all over. Or maybe, she could sneak past him and into her room, and after she came out they could act like it never happened. That would be easy enough.
She cracked the door open, hoping to find an empty hallway, but there he was, exactly as she had imagined him. He must have had his head leaning against the door when she opened it, and he took a step back, his eyes fluttering open, looking embarrassed.
“I–” He started, eyes wide and glowing gold.
“Darlington—“ She said at the same time as him. They both looked at each other, waiting for the other to speak first.
Alex didn’t know what to say. He had actually been listening to her. And if the bulge in his pants was any indication, he had liked what he heard.
He saw where her gaze had traveled, and he looked even more mortified than before. He opened his mouth to start another sentence, but closed it and turned to start away down the hall. She could nearly feel the shame burning off of him.
She grabbed his wrist, and he stayed pointedly turned away from her. “Alex, I’m so sorry I just—“
“Don’t go,” was all she could manage to say. What else was there to say?
He turned to look at her, a mix of confusion and want in his eyes. “What?”
“Don’t go.” She repeated it simply, keeping her hand on his wrist loose. She was uncomfortably reminded of the leash, but he could easily break away if he wanted.
He stepped closer, hesitant. “Alex, I don’t want to make you feel like you have to–”
She closed the gap and kissed him, her arms coming up around his neck. She could feel the towel beginning to fall off her immediately, and she pressed against him in an attempt to pin it between their two bodies. He growled and grabbed her by the back, pressing her even closer, rolling against her. She could feel how hard he was, and the desire bubbled back up into her.
He kissed similar to how he had eaten the soup last night– hungry, desperate, with no regard for politeness. When she opened her mouth, he immediately swirled his tongue around her lips, trying to drink her in. His searching hands found her hair, her neck, the exposed skin of her shoulders, touching any part of her he could reach.
He started guiding her back until she was pressed against the wall, trapped. He pinned her against the wall with another hungry kiss, and began to paw and the bottom of the towel around her legs. She felt her heart accelerate, but in an unpleasant way. She needed something else, something that wasn’t this, and fast. This was not going to work like this.
“Stop.” She pushed him back and he snarled a bit, before catching himself. His eyes burned bright, and she could see the beginnings of blue flame arcing between them. He took a few deep breaths and stepped back, looking a bit like a kicked dog.
“I’m sorry, I just—“ He gestured at his horns, the fire around her, “I got a bit carried away.”
“I know.”
She grabbed his shirt and led him from the hallway into the dante suite, kicking the door closed behind her.
“If we’re going to do this, I need to call the shots to start out with.” He nodded, and she gave him a shove towards the closed closet door. He stumbled back and pressed into it, looking at her expectantly, hungrily.
She dropped the towel, and walked slowly up to him. His eyes drank hee in, pupils wide with desire, and she gently stroked the side of his cheek. He was behaving, and kept his hands pressed against the closet door until she guided one of them to her waist.
She realized she was taking this seriously because she didn’t want to fuck Darlington and move on with her life. She wanted to enjoy it with him, she wanted it to be for the both of them. She wanted him to see her as herself, and not just some easy way to get himself off.
Sex had been complicated for her, for obvious reasons, She had typically zoned out, made the noises that had been expected of her, then quickly gone to shower afterward. She never came, and saw it as more of a chore than anything enjoyable.
She didn’t want it to be like that now. Not only did it feel bad for her during the act, it also felt a bit like she would be lying. Like a performance. She didn’t want Darlington to think she was having a good time so that it would be over with. She wanted to enjoy herself, and enjoy herself with him.
They kissed against the wall, Alex keeping the pace slow, building it until the fire within her lit again. Darlington was more than happy to oblige, and he stroked her back, keeping his hands above the waistline. He scratched gently down her spine, tugged at her hair only a bit as she kissed down his throat. She could still feel how hard he was, the rough of his pants pressing against her cooling skin.
“Are you–” his voice came out gruff, and he cleared his throat. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to do anything.” He was giving her an out. They could stop here, part ways, maybe pretend it had never happened at all.
She rolled her eyes. “You just heard me jack off in the bath,” she said, and he grimaced at her crass choice of words. “You think I’m going to get shy now?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t want to hurt you. Or do anything you might regret later.”
“Darlington. I went to hell. Someone has drunk my blood. I’ve had my ribs broken like three times. I think I can handle having sex with you.” She laughed as she said it, but his eyes were serious. She stroked his cheek and leaned in to kiss him again, sweeter this time. He sighed, his hands traveling back down to her waist. “Plus, I trust you. You won’t hurt me.”
I won’t let you. The thought came from nowhere, but it rang true in her mind.
They crashed into each other, their kissing taking on an air of desperation. Alex pulled him towards the bed, sticking her hands under his shirt. He was warm and alive and beautiful underneath her touch.
He sat down on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head swiftly. Alex took a good look at his taut, lean form before she straddled his lap, tangling her hands in his hair. She pulled it, exposing his throat like she had in the dream. She kissed down his throat before biting and sucking a mark right above his artery. He made a quiet gasping noise, and she pressed herself against his cock to encourage him.
“Alex,” he groaned, and she pushed on his chest, sending him backward onto the bed. HIs hands settled on her hips, his eyes meeting hers, burning with desire. He pulled her along the length of his cock, keeping eye contact until it must have been too much for him, dropping his head back in pleasure. She was glad for the reprieve from his gaze, feeling like a pinned bug when he was looking at her. He looked at her with reverence, like he was worshiping the sight of her.
One of his warm hands traveled upward, and he grasped at her breast, his fingers gently circling her nipple, and echo of the morning after halloween over a year ago. She let out a gasp. He looked at her again, and god he was so hot, looking absolutely fucked with his hair a mess and his golden eyes wild.
She laid down atop him, relishing the feeling of her skin pressed against his, and kissed him again. She felt the discomfort of his wool pants under her, and huffed out a breath of frustration when she grinded her hips down against him, the rough fabric too scratchy for her liking.
She sat up, tugging on Darlington’s belt and pants, and she could see the damp spot she had left on his pants where she had been sitting.
She tried her best to ignore it, ignoring also her own desperation as he shimmied his pants off and readjusted his position on the bed. He laid his head on the feather pillows, and she looked him over, climbing her way up his body. She knew he was hot, had always thought so, but this was so much different. She was nearly ravenous looking at him waiting for her. She took his cock into her hand, giving it a few languid strokes, watching his expression.
He threw his head back again, biting his lip, his hips bucking up to meet her strokes. “God, fuck, Alex.”
She swiped her thumb over the head of his cock and gave it a few move slow strokes. He made the most beautiful noises, not like other guys she’d fucked. He didn’t hold back his groans, his gasps, the way he said her name.
She reached forward and stroked down his chest, ghosting her nails along his sternum. “Oh, Darlington, you’re so good like this.” She began to pump her hand with more vigor.
He keened, and then, through panting breath, he said, “Stop, fuck. Stop.”
She froze, her heart dropping. He looked at her, his eyes golden, the shadow of his ram horns appearing on his head. He took in her expression and shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Nothing is wrong, no. I just won’t last long if you keep that up. Fuck.”
She grinned at that, liking the fact that she could so easily get him to the edge. “So what would you rather do then, Danny?” She laid her head on his chest, looking up at him through her eyelashes. She knew the angle made her look cute.
He smiled at the use of the nickname and rolled his eyes. “I want to fuck you. Desperately. But I need a minute. So come here.” He grabbed her ass and pulled her toward him, directing her to scoot up his body. She did and kept going until she was straddling his face.
She tried to act calm, but she was a little nervous. She had never tried this particular position before. “Uh, this won’t hurt you or anything?”
He shook his head, his hair tickling her inner thighs. “No, and if I need something I’ll tap you a few times.” He gave her a few sharp taps to her outer thigh.
“Sounds like you know what you’re doing,” she said arching her brow at him. He just smiled at her from between her legs and winked, pulling her downward towards his face.
When his tongue touched her she had to grab the headboard. It felt like he was touching her with fire, his mouth hot and wet on her. She groaned and resisted the urge to grind down onto his face. He licked a long strip up and down her cunt with a flat tongue before focusing in on her clit.
It had been so long since she’d been eaten out, and never like this. She felt him shimmy a hand between them, getting two of his fingers inside her.
“Oh fuck yeah, Danny.” Unable to hold herself back, she used one hand to grab Darlington’s hair, and ground herself down into his face, trying to get the pressure and location right. He groaned against her, and it sent a shock up her spine. God why hadn’t she tried this before?
She found the right combination of movement and pressure and rode his face thoroughly, all worries about hurting him lost in the feeling of his tongue on her clit and his fingers inside of her. She felt the pressure inside of her building, the sweet pleasure wrenching groans out of her. He encouraged her movements, his free hand gripping her ass, groaning himself when she rode him hard enough. She gripped the head board tight enough that she swore she was going to break it or her fingers, and felt her orgasm overtake her like a tsunami wave.
She rode it out, and he continued to take it, licking and sucking until she finally pushed against his head. He released her, and she flopped on the bed, panting, her body twitching with aftershocks still.
She looked over at Darlington and he had a blissed out look on his face. He was flushed and covered in slick and beautiful. She brought him in for a wet, filthy kiss, and moaned when she tasted herself on him. It was so gross, but also so hot, and she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that she had just fucked his face.
After coming down from the high, she reached down between them and gave his cock some teasing strokes. He leaned his forehead against hers, making that same intense eye contact as before. .
“How do you want me?” she asked, and he grinned at her, the slightly dopey smile at odds with the devilish look in his eyes.
“However you will have me,” he said, and she smiled back.
I will serve you until the end of time.
She laid down, pulling him on top of her. “My legs are tired after trying to not break your neck. It’s your turn to do some of the work.” He chuckled before kissing down her neck, biting gently at her collar bones.
He was kissing down to her breasts when she said, “Darlington. I’m plenty turned on. Just fuck me already.”
He tsked her. “So utilitarian, Stern. Can’t a man just enjoy the pleasures in front of him without it being a means to an end?”
“You’re too coherent, and I’m too horny for this. C’mon.” She emphasized her point by wrapping her legs around his back, pressing him forward. His laugh was cut off by a groan when his cock pressed against her wet folds, slick still with his spit. His head dropped next to hers.
“Fuck.” It felt so wrong to hear him curse, but Alex wanted to hear it more.
She whispered, “C’mon and fuck me, Danny.” She knew full well that it would drive him crazy, and it did. He growled again, quickly lining himself up before pushing into her. She threw her head back as he pressed in, relishing the feeling of being so close to him.
It took a second for her to get used to the stretch, but a few thrusts in, she was lost to him. It was the closest they could get without intertwining their souls again, and the thought of it made Alex only want him more.
He was going slowly, gently, and she tried to encourage him with her legs, her noises. “Harder.” It came out as more of a command than she would have liked, but he was holding out on her.
He shook his head a little, his voice coming out strained. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She turned his face to hers, his glowing eyes meeting her. She felt that rush of desire to be as close as possible and could see blue flame reflected in his irises.
“I said it’s okay. You’re okay. Just let loose a bit, will you?” He nodded his head in agreement, and she watched his body shift, his horns manifesting on his head. He thrust into her with more vigor, a hand snaking under her waist, pulling her with his movements.
“God, yes!” She was taken over by the waves of pleasure, all thought gone except for more, yes, please.
He angled her hips perfectly and was hitting her walls at the right angle, and she could feel another orgasm building up.
“Please, please, don’t stop,” she begged. He was whispering to her, in another language, and the sound of it was low and seductive. She braced her hands against the headboard, allowing him to drive into her even more, doing whatever she could to chase the feeling of him inside of her.
“I’m close,” he whispered, his voice a rough whisper. His thrusts picked up a new level of desperation. “Oh, fuck, I’m so close. Should I–” He tried to pull out, but she wrapped her legs around him as a response, keeping him pinned in place inside her.
His orgasm sent her over the edge, the last few deep thrusts of it enough to shoot hot pleasure through her for the third time. He moaned her name as he came, deep and guttural, and finally collapsed onto her.
They both lied there, panting, until Alex came down enough to remember she needed to clean up. She rushed into the bathroom, leaving Darlington sprawled on the bed, looking just like a normal human man.
Fucked the demon right out of him.
She climbed into bed afterward, and Darlington pulled her close, his body warm in the cool of the room. She threw a leg over him, and he stroked up and down her thigh lazily.
“You can’t even fathom how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, eyes still closed, face free of the worry that usually plagued it.
She giggled, then felt stupid for it. “Oh I can probably imagine.”
“It’s horrible. Every outfit, every gesture you do drives me crazy. I’m trying my best to not be some fighting-and-fucking monster. I’m trying so hard to be normal. And finally when I think I have it all together, I turn into a soup-eating, testosterone-fueled sex fiend.”
He looked genuinely worried, his eyebrows knitting together on his forehead. She reached a hand up to smooth them out, then gently ran a hand down his face. He snagged her hand and pressed a kiss into it.
“When I heard you in the bath, I told myself to leave it alone, to just continue on, but the next thing I knew I was at the door, desperate.” He shook his head, glancing sideways out of his eyes towards where she was. “Embarrassing, frankly.”
“Hey, not too embarrassing. I was the one who kept going even though I knew you were there.”
“You knew?” He glanced at her with surprise, and she laughed.
“Yes, why else do you think I was doing all that moaning? I know how to keep myself quiet if I want.”
He shook his head, “You’re a menace, Stern.”
She shrugged, snuggling in closer to him, pulling the covers up over their bodies.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Darlington spoke, looking up towards the ceiling.
“I thought I was going to go crazy when Dawes told me that you were going to be staying here over break. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through a month of just us, platonically hanging out by ourselves.”
Alex realized that she hadn’t had any alone time with him since he came back. There had always been a third party, whether it was Dawes or Turner or even occasionally Tripp, they were never alone. That was by Darlington’s design?
“Well, your worries were all true. We, in fact, did not make it through the month hanging out platonically. We barely even made it a week.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Not that I particularly mind.”
She reveled in the way he grinned at her.
The admission stirred something in her. She felt the same, but had she impacted his soul in some way? Was he only lusting after her because they had momentarily shared a body?
She didn’t voice any of these concerns, just stroked his chest and hummed. “I knew you were listening. I kinda put it on a bit for you. Wanted you to enjoy it.”
He looked at her, wide eyed. “Stern, you continue to surprise me.” He settled into her, and let out a content sigh.
She could worry about if she had permanently altered his soul later. Right now, she wanted to rest next to him, hear his breathing level out as he fell into sleep. She allowed herself to follow him.