had all the damned souls trembling? Hot damn. “I have heard of you.”
“Good, then you know what I can do. And might I add it hurts.” She leaned up on tiptoe as she said it, her lips so close to his.
But Ysabel wasn’t the only one with surprises. And truly, she’d pushed the boundaries of temptation too far. He snapped her magic binding and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her flush against his chest. “Did I mention, apart from ability with fire, I can unravel several forms of magic?” Then he kissed her, and by all the coals in the furnace of Hell, he’d never burned hotter.
*
How did I go from putting him in his place to having his tongue in my mouth?
An interesting question for sure, but not as intriguing as the fire he ignited. While Ysabel on a few occasions – usually drunk –let other men kiss her –before she decked them with magic –nothing compared to Remy’s embrace. Not even Francisco’s kiss.
How he could suck her lower lip and make her feel it between her legs was a mystery – one she enjoyed. How he could curl his tongue around hers and wring a pleasurable shudder from her body made no sense. His hands cupped her bottom, squeezing her cheeks, pressing her against his firm body. A body excited to feel hers, judging by the hard bulge nudging her belly.
The moment was one of utter madness – and arousal. She wanted to rip the shirt from him and drag her nails down his torso. She wanted him to hoist her so she could wrap her legs around his waist and…
She tore her mouth from his and shoved at his chest. “What have you done to me?”
Eyes glittering with desire, he regarded her. “I kissed you.”
“Obviously. But how did you make me enjoy it? Kisses aren’t supposed to make me feel like, like –”
“You’re a beautiful, desirable woman in need of man’s touch? Aching to feel his –”
“Don’t you dare say it! I don’t want you. I don’t even like you. So again, what kind of magic did you use? Or is it a drug?”
He smirked. “It’s called expert technique, little cougar. For an experienced woman of your years, I would have thought you’d know that.”
She refused to blush or avert her gaze. “I’ve been with men before.” Actually, a single man, who while capable of giving her pleasure, ended up betraying her. Apart from her education with Francisco, her only comparison came from drunken fumblings that never went further than sloppy kisses, which she followed by a rinse with 99% proof liquor to wash out any residue. “This was nothing like that.”
“Thank you. Shall we continue?”
“No. And don’t you do what you did to me again.”
“It’s called a French kiss.”
“Whatever. Try it again and I’ll –” Bend over and beg you to take me. Scream as you tongue my pussy. Fuck you until – “ Argh! I hate you.”
Stomping away wasn’t one of her shining moments, especially since she felt his gaze boring into her backside, and damn it all if it didn’t make her add an extra wiggle.
I need to get him away from me before I do something stupid. Yeah, like orgasm with something not made of plastic for the first time in five hundred years.
*
Lucifer lined up his shot and gave a few practice swings with his number nine thigh bone. The shrunken skull waited for him to putt. He pulled back and –
“I demand you castrate him!”
– his shot went wild, careening off the pillars and missing his interior putting green entirely. Sighing, he turned and faced Ysabel, who, as usual, appeared annoyed.
“What has he done this time?” he asked as she flopped into a chair.
“He kissed me.”
He’d always known Remy was braver than most. “The horror. The shame. And?”
“What do you mean, and ? I didn’t want him to.”
“So tell him no.”
“I did. Kind of.” He stared at her. She sighed. “Fine, I kissed him back. But I didn’t want to. He made me do it.”
Lucifer blinked. Stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled