Touched by Darkness: (Sins of The Fallen Book 2)

Kinsale, Ireland. A small town with a population of 5,300. Out of all the places in the human world, this is where I’m hiding.

It was a last-minute decision to step out from behind the crates and escape through the window. If I want to escape Daemon, I have to run, and I have to run far away.

But now that I am here, huddled in the corner of a small yet cozy country pub, with a frothy beer in front of me, it dawns on me that I have no plan.

I’m a rogue runaway.

Hunted by the Devil’s son.

Unless he’s given up by now.

It’s been two days since I arrived here. Two days of very little sleep, expecting him to barge into my bedroom upstairs.

It was my first time coercing a human with my powers to let me rent a room, and it was surprisingly easy.

Almost too easy.

The scent of cologne, sweat, and washing powder permeates the air as a man wearing a checkered shirt and dark jeans slides in beside me on the bench. “You look lonely, sweetheart.”

My grip on the pint glass tightens as I slowly let my gaze slide in his direction. He’s in his late twenties and attractive in that rugged kind of way.

My lack of a reply doesn’t bother him. “You want another beer?” He gestures for the barmaid, then settles his attention back on me. “You’re new in town.”

“You’re observant.”

“It’s a small town.”

My eyes trail down to the pulse point in his neck, and my incisors begin to ache. His collar is unbuttoned, revealing tanned skin. My blood lust is insatiable, and I’m reminded of it now when he stretches his arm out on the back of the bench, unaware of how his hand brushes my feathers.

“What brought you here?”

His heartbeat is loud, and each individual thud is as tempting as the organ playing such a beautiful, haunted tune. The urge to rip it out of his chest and sink my teeth into the bloody chambers makes me dizzy.

“Difficult to find on a map.”

He frowns, but then he smiles at the waitress when she places our drinks on the table. I watch him lift the glass to his mouth, his throat jumping with every swallow before he puts the glass back down and wipes the froth off his lips.

“Want to go somewhere?” I ask, forcing myself to drown out the delicious sound of his heartbeat.

My question takes him by surprise, if the widening of his eyes is anything to go by.

“Sure.” He sounds almost uncertain, but then he slides out from the bench, pays for the drinks, and nods his head for me to follow.

We step outside into the cool fall air, and I set off down the side of the pub. The human follows like I knew he would—a lamb led to slaughter.

When we turn the corner, I spin around and lean back against the brick wall. It’s dark here, except for the starry night sky that casts his face in shadow, and without the pollution of nearby towns, the sky is lit up in all its glory.

He opens his mouth to speak, but I pull his lips down to mine, careful not to cut him with my elongating, throbbing incisors. I don’t want him to try to escape just yet. Not until I’ve had some fun.

The darkness slides out from the nearby shadows that lurk, hidden inside a cluster of trees. It travels along the ground, kissing each individual blade of grass. A thickening mist with tentacles that crawl, drag, and push forward. It comes for him like the reaper while he’s lost in my kiss.

His hands grip my hips, and he hoists me up against the cold brick, our gusting breaths visible in the cold air. My eyelids fall shut, and I lose myself in the sensation of his scratchy stubble as his lips descend on my neck, kissing, nibbling, biting.

When I blink my eyes open again, a red mist falls over my vision like the curtain during the final act on stage.

But that’s not what makes me gasp.

It’s the man towering behind him, with flared raven wings, glinting fangs, and eyes that burn with hellfire.

In a swift move, Daemon grabs my companion’s head and rips it clean off. Warm blood sprays from the stump, splattering my face, and for a brief moment, I remain like that, held against the wall by a dead, decapitated man, before his body slumps. Then I’m grabbed and hauled into a hard chest as Daemon tosses the head to the side. The motion is so sudden and violent that I yelp, my hands flying up to Daemon’s chest.

His cruel, ruthless violence clashes with my raw need as he spins me around, shoves me against the cold brick, and yanks my dress up around my waist. He has no care in the world about the dead corpse at my feet or how my high heels bump into it when he slaps my ass.

“You thought I wouldn’t find you, little witch? That you could hide away in the human world? Newsflash”—his hand comes down again, and my shriek rings out in the quiet night—“I’ll always find you. There’s nowhere you can hide from me.”

Three quick slaps in succession, then a fourth, as if he can’t help himself.

My ass is on fire, but the pain has nothing on the achy, unsatiated need between my legs. My pussy is craving him and his unleashed darkness that’s about to wreak havoc on my heart.

With my hair fisted tightly in his hand, he kicks my ankles apart, then slides his hand inside my panties, over my drenched pussy, as he whispers in my ear, “More importantly, did you think I would let you fuck another man? Human or not?”

“It’s part of the hunt,” I breathe out, my voice breathy and shaky.

He shoves two fingers deep inside me. “Wrong, little witch, this pussy is mine.”

As if to prove his point, he pumps me hard and fast, my face pressing against the abrasive brick.

I take his punishment without complaint, partly because he’s too strong and I can’t fight him off, but also because I love his brutality.

“No one gets to have this but me.”

My hands press against the brick to offer me some level of reprieve. I don’t get any. His fingers work me into a frenzy until my arousal trails a path down my thighs, and the wet sounds my cunt makes blend with my heavy breathing and soft moans.

“Tell me I get to play with my pussy whenever I want.”

“You can play with it anytime you want,” I choke out before moaning.

“That’s fucking right,” he growls, shoving a third finger inside me. “It’s mine. Everything about you is fucking mine. You’re a whore for my fingers, my cock, and my tongue, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” I don’t recognize my own voice.

“I’ll kill any dicks that get near you. I won’t hesitate to end their lives, understood?”

“Please,” I beg, my pussy pulsating with the need to come.

“Under-fucking-stood?” he grits out.

“Yes, Daemon.”

“That’s my good girl.” His grip remains tight on my hair as he unbuttons his jeans and takes his dick out, then he bands his arm around my waist and impales me on his cock, forcing me up on my tiptoes.

Daemon proceeds to ravage me amongst the blood and gore, beneath the starry sky. He fucks me hard with savage thrusts and whispered filthy words that stoke this fire burning inside me.

Shoving down my dress, he palms my swollen tits. “You love nothing more than to be fucked like a greedy whore. Did you think the human could fuck you this well? Did you think he’d make you bounce off his cock like this?”

It’s as if he’s goading and firing himself up even more with his own destructive jealousy.

“Do you like it when I claim you on top of his rotting corpse, little witch?”

My pussy clamps down in response, and his cruel laughter brushes the curve of my neck.

“Is this why you lured him out here? Somewhere in the back of that mind of yours, you knew I’d find you, and you knew I’d slaughter him like a pig for touching what’s mine.”

I did know. Like the time he killed a human man in the bar because I straddled his lap to get back at Daemon.

Deep inside, I knew it was only a matter of time before Daemon found me. I knew he’d chase me down, fuck me to within an inch of my life, and crush my heart.

“Spread your wings,” he whispers in my ear, his cock stretching me to my limits, pumping, rocking, thrusting.

I slowly unfold them, growing wetter when he releases a masculine grunt.

“My little slut,” his deep voice taunts. “Think you can compete with my wingspan, hmm?”

“I know I can,” I hiss, then push off the wall and shove him off. I move back, careful not to step on the corpse.

His dark eyes slide down my body to where my hand is rubbing my clit almost viciously.

I sink a finger inside my heat as I lean back against the brick wall. “What’s the matter, Daemon? What are you waiting for?”

Stepping closer, his hand slides over his erect cock that glistens with my arousal. Unlike me, he has no qualms about stepping on the body. In fact, he makes a point of crushing the human’s chest beneath his boot.

And then he’s on me, circling the back of my knee with his hand and lifting my leg high before ramming his cock inside me again. His other hand grabs me by the throat and cuts off my airflow. Behind him, his enormous wings block out the moonlight.

“You gonna come on my cock, little witch? Strangle my dick with your cunt?”

I’ll never get used to the effect his dirty talk has on my body. The way his filthy words send bursts of pleasure trickling down my belly before settling in my clit.

“Answer me,” he growls, tightening his grip even further, and then he eases back to allow me small sips of air.

“Yes, Daemon, I’m about to come on your dick.”

He drives into me harder, his balls slapping my ass.

“Why are you here?” he asks when I cling to his sweaty neck, scared I’ll lose balance if I don’t.

“Wha…” I drift off as he lifts my other leg and wraps my thighs around his sculpted waist. His cock is driving into me deeper at this angle, and it’s making me see stars.

“Answer me!” He slaps my tits, first my right, then my left, before twisting my nipples to the point of pain. “What are you planning?”

“I’m not planning anything.”

“Lies!” Daemon bites down on my breast, and the pain is so sharp that I cry out. He fucks me like that, with his teeth piercing my skin and his cock ramming into me until all I can smell, feel, and think of is him.

“Daemon,” I moan, holding back the whispered words that dance on my tongue.

The words that will make it all stop.

I love you.

I swallow them down while losing myself in the slide of his big cock.

“Trust me,” he breathes out, licking up the blood on my breast before brushing his lips over mine, a clear threat in his eyes. “I’ll kill you with my own bare hands if you betray me.”

“And I’ll let you,” I reply, my tone deceptively calm despite the pleasure building and mounting as it tears through me like an incoming crash wave.

My loud moan cuts through the silent night as I fall apart, bouncing off his cock.

He fucks me like he can’t get enough of me.

He fucks me like he wants to burrow deep beneath my skin and embed himself in the valves that make up my heart.

As if he wants to rip it from my chest so he can keep it for himself.

With a fierce snarl, he stiffens before warmth floods my insides. We stay like that, breathing hard, his cock still buried inside me. I feel more content now, fucked raw on top of a decapitated body in some small, remote town in Ireland, than I have in a long time.

But I know this contentedness won’t last.

While he chased me down like an animal and undoubtedly enjoyed it, he still doesn’t share my emotions. And that knowledge hurts the most, which is why I lower my legs to create some distance between us.

I take in the surrounding destruction now that the adrenaline is wearing off. I’m covered in blood, as though I have showered in it. It’s on my skin, in my hair, and soaking my clothes. The man’s severed head lies to my right, his empty eyes gazing up at the stars, and the torso is in front of me on the ground.

“Still want to drink his blood?” Daemon asks, buttoning up his jeans.

“Very funny,” I drawl as I tug my skirt back down and carefully step around the head. “The grass has soaked it all up.”

DAEMON

The little witch is in the shower while I’m inspecting every nook and cranny of the room she’s been staying in. Much to my disappointment, there’s nothing here. No clues at all about what makes her tick. No secrets to dig up.

I don’t know why I’m this obsessed with figuring her out, but I am. And I’ll get beneath her skin if it’s the last thing I do.

Why is she here? Why did she tell me that crazy story about how she apparently knew me before? Amenadiel has done a lot of shit in his time, but whatever scheme he has set up with the little witch beats them all.

And then there’s the remaining problem: I can’t get her out of my mind. Ever since she threw that fucking football at my head and flared her wings like a brat, my thoughts have strayed to her.

I’ve never paid attention to females outside of sex before.

Never felt the urge to possess a woman and claim her. Who am I kidding? It’s a basic instinct to assert my dominance over someone who is beneath me in power and ranking when they challenge me. Especially if that someone is the owner of a nice, tight pussy. If it were a man, I’d just kill them and have it over and done with, but it’s not a man. The little witch is a woman, and my cock is very aware of the fact.

Even now, just thinking about her makes me grow hard.

The shower turns off, and then she’s there, clutching a towel around her naked, wet body.

Fuck me.

“I need clean clothes.”

She tries to sidle past, but my arm encircles her waist.

I pull her into me, towering over her from behind like a vengeful god.

Before she can protest, my fingers curl around the thin towel. I pull it off, then clamp my hand over her mouth when she yelps with surprise. My lips brush her ears, and she shivers as I drag my fingers up her thigh, closer to her pussy. “Why didn’t you bring clothes with you into the bathroom?” I nip her earlobe and glide my fingers over her slit. “You hoped to bewitch me, little angel?”

She stiffens, and her breaths cease as tears bead on her wispy lashes. I pause too, then slowly lower my hand.

“That nickname,” she whispers so silently that I almost miss it. She steps out from my arms, reaches down to pick up the towel, and clutches it to her chest. There’s something in her expression.

Something that makes me hold my breath as she continues looking at me with those big brown eyes that hold so much sadness.

“You’re right,” she says eventually when the silence stretches on. “I did hope to bewitch you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted…” She lowers herself onto the bed. The soft glow from the lit candle on the bedside table flickers, chasing away the shadows beneath her eyes. “For you to see me…” Then she looks up, and my heart pounds heavily. “…and look at me the way you used to.”

The expression on her face is resigned and defeated, as if the answer to her questions reflects in my eyes.

One minute, she was screaming my name, now she’s crying? I’m so out of my depths here.

But her pain calls to something buried deep within me.

Some recognition I can’t place.

My throat jumps as I step up to her and lift her chin with two gentle fingers. My thumb brushes over her trembling lips, back and forth, soothing not only the storm in her eyes but the beast in me.

“How did you find me?” she whispers, her eyes burning into mine.

Back and forth.

My eyes collide with hers and I push down the thick, clogging emotion in my chest. I force a smirk on my lips. “You’re probably the most vicious killer I’ve ever met. I followed the trail of body parts like they were breadcrumbs.”

The tips of her ears heat, and she attempts to look away, but I tighten my grip on her chin.

“Don’t hide.”

“Daemon?”

A novel, foreign urge strikes me then, and I follow its call as I lean down to taste her lips. It’s a hesitant kiss, uncertain on my part because I’ve never kissed someone and felt my heart thud against my ribcage in response. It’s fucking terrifying, but at the same time, I’m starving for the soft moans that slip from her lips onto mine.

My fingers tangle in her damp hair, and when I deepen the kiss and reach down to remove the towel, she melts into me.

The urge to guide her back onto the bed and cover her body with mine drives me forward. Her hands are everywhere, in my hair, beneath my shirt, clawing my back, and exploring the muscles in my arms.

We only break apart to gasp for air, and even that is sheer torture. Before she can fill her oxygen-starved lungs, I’m back to stealing her breaths for myself.

We’re a clash of teeth, tangling tongues, and roaming hands.

I’ve never devoured someone so completely before. I have always frowned upon kissing—a chore—yet now I feel like I’ll die if I can’t taste her, touch her, inhale her breaths and whimpers. And my name when she whispers it with such adoration.

I mean, what the fuck is wrong with me? I haven’t attempted to fuck her yet. For some reason, I’m content ravaging her tempting siren mouth. And to lose myself in her soft hair, even softer lips, and exploring hands on my back.

But like all miracles, they’re fleeting wonders that don’t last.

All good things come to an end sooner or later.

And this moment shatters like fragile glass when her eyes flutter open and widen with fear. She breaks away from my mouth and lets out a blood-curdling scream.

I scramble back on the bed, but pain explodes between my shoulder blades before I can look behind me. The last thing I see is a robed shadow that darts through the door.