Page 150 of Demon Fall


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I shrieked, part laugh and part disbelief.

“Your what?”

He frowned at me.

“My baby batter? My love liquid? My scream cream?”

I kept shaking my head to each offered term.

“You know that’s not what it’s really called.”

“Yes, it is. Angel says those are the fun names for my seed and women like hearing the fun names. It makes them happy.” He flashed me a sly smile. “Maybe happy enough for a quick ride on my pony express?”

“Angel and I are going to have a long talk,” I said, heading for the door. He was right on my heels.

“She said my pickup game was strong.”

“Are you going to put on clothes?”

“No. Pants will hurt. Besides, I like when you look at my cock with hunger in your eyes.”

Since I was leading the way down the stairs, he knew I wasn’t looking at him. But darn if I didn’t glance his way when my gaze swept the living room for our would-be assailants. Tor smirked at me. I shook my head and focused on the four men slumped on the couch and the two fey standing over them.

“Are they unconscious?” I asked.

Vorx and Turik shared a look that worried me.

“Are they breathing?” I asked, instead.

“Yes,” Turik answered. “Matt showed me how to check on the last batch of humans.”

I cautiously edged closer to the couch and peered at their faces. Nat wasn’t there.

“This isn’t all of them,” I said softly.

The three fey grunted, and I considered what we should do.

“Did you see anyone else?” I asked.

Both shook their heads.

“It’s early yet. There’s four of them, one of me, and not a lot of supplies to gather up. I’m guessing someone will come looking when they don’t show up in the next hour to two. Let’s leave the lights off and see if we can’t get a few more.”

The fey agreed then bound and gagged the men so they wouldn’t be able to raise an alarm if they woke.

“It would be safer if you waited upstairs, June,” Turik said.

Nodding, I told the fey to be careful and started for the stairs. Tor silently followed and closed the bedroom door behind us. I turned to give him a curious look. The unchanged state of his arousal told me his intent.

“Can fey hear through closed doors?” I asked.

He palmed my breast, kneading it with his big hand before rolling the nipple between his fingers.

“I will be very quiet.”

As he tugged my shirt over my head, I briefly wondered how often in our relationship he would get his way. I grasped his thick length and stroked it firmly, enjoying his hissed inhale. Probably as often as I got mine, I decided, sinking to my knees.

An hour and two orgasms later, I fell onto Tor’s chest, a puddle of loose muscle, as he continued to arch into me. With a groan, he came again. I think we were tied now. Four to four. I ached in the best possible way as he washed my insides anew, and smirked when I thought of his Mr. Happy juice.

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