His instincts should have warned him sooner than they had, but thanks to his agimortus, he'd been hobbled like a brood mare waiting to be mounted by a randy stallion
I didn't see any furry little James Bonds.
Wraith shoved his hands in his jeans' pockets. "How long before we consider you overdue and mount a rescue party?" "Never." Reaver shrugged into his shirt. "If I don't come back, it is because I'm either dead or in a situation that's too dangerous to get me out of." "Oh," Sin said brightly-and sarcastically. "You mean like the situation Harvester is in." Seminus demons were annoying no matter what gender. "Yes. Like that." She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Good. Glad we're clear. Try to come back soon or we'll come after you.
Harvester might have a halo, but dear, sweet Lord, she was no angel in the sack. Awesome.
You're no angel. You're Fallen. You just haven't had the decency to lose your wings. [Reaver]
Sorry, I happen to be into women, so Thanatos doesn't do it for me. But it's probably fair to say that if I were gay, I'd do him.
Wraith held up his hands. "Chill, Gramps. I don't want to sit on your knee or anything.
Oompa-Loompa Land?” He shook his head. “No way. Orange people give me the creeps. I don’t even like fake tans. I’d never be their king.
I feel like I’m finally whole. I’m five thousand years old,” he rasped. “But the day you found me in the woods, that’s when my life started.
I hate you.” “I know,” he whispered. “Kiss me.” He didn’t hesitate.
I'm also a sex demon. I didn't go blind when I took a mate
Hellboy?” “What?” “Touch me. Make me forget all this.” He was on her in an instant, took her down to the floor before she could blink.
He wouldn’t take anything from her ever again. But from this point on, he’d give her whatever she wanted. Which was easy, because what she wanted right now was an orgasm.
In three strides Reaver was on her, his mouth crushing hers. “No more bullshit,” he said against her lips. “I want you. I think I’ve always wanted you.
I suggested that someone grab Bill Gates and get him to install a new operating system, but apparently he's not a demon" At Reaver's eye roll she nodded. "Right? I was surprised too.
leave it to him to get messed up with deaths little girl
I’m not going to pass out-” He cut her off with a kiss. “If you did, I’d catch you.” Gods, he’d laugh at either of his brothers if they said that to their mates, the pussywhipped idiots.
That's my girl," he murmured. "I'm not your girl." "Well," he said not bothering to hide his smile from her sightless eyes, "the good news is that the honey gave you back your sparkling personality." "And the bad news?" "The honey gave you back your sparkling personality.
For the next eight and a half months, you're going to be mine. Every. Night.
You should smile more often.' 'Can't.' He grunted as he opened her shirt to expose her chest. 'My face might freeze like that.
I'll listen to you, but you need to treat me with a little respect. Because it doesn't sound like I'm a pawn. Sounds like I'm more of a queen." A vein in his temple began to throb, and she grew bolder, the sense of power emanating from the mark on her chest filing her with the mettle she'd lost after the break-in two years ago. Lowering her voice to a tense whisper, she nipped his earlobe. "Checkmate.
Horseman. I know you were born back when women were thought of as little more than brood mares and slaves, but it's the twenty-first century, and we can do anything a man does.
Hurry," she breathed. Man, talk about pressure. He was supposed to get it up while demon hordes were trying to kill him, and Satan himself was knocking at the door.
The pretty nurse had just injected her with something that totally rocked, and if she wanted to think about boinking a bronzed, tattooed, impossibly handsome doctor who was so far out of her league she need a telescope to see him, then screw it. Screw him. Over and over.
Man who hates cats is insecure, but a man who likes them is one worth keeping. If he can appreciate a cat, he can appreciate a strong, independent woman.
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