Chapter 282. Sweet Julie V

Chapter 282: 282. Sweet Julie V

Juliette

"You," she shivered, shutting her eyes. "This isn’t real. This can’t be real."

But he was standing before her when she opened her eyes again. Real. Large. Hot enough that the heat of his skin wafted over her even as he was feets away.

"What are you?" she breathed.

He smiled. His fangs had retracted and yet, there was nothing human about that smile. "My true name..." he murmured, those unnatural feline eyes pinning her to the spot. "It is much too complex for your sweet mortal tongue. As for what I am..."

He took one more step and Juliette’s back hit the brick wall. "They call my kind jesters. Tricksters. On some days, I am a demon or the devil himself. Or an angel in disguise. I like to think it depends on what basis I decide pay you a visit."

Juliette’s heart was racing even faster as she pressed farther into the wall. "A-and on what b-basis have you come to me?"

He peered down at her. "A cage of flesh and bone is agonizingly dull, and a thousand years is a miserable time to spend starving."

His forked tongue darted out to lick his canines. "I have watched you unravel in my dreamscapes. But a dream is only a shadow of a feast. Your terror, your fascination, your pulse beneath my fingers... it feeds my greed far more than anything else this miserable world has to offer. And I decided it was finally time to taste the reality of you."

Juliette’s mouth dried. Something was wrong with her mind. Her body. She’d never been this attracted to a man in her life, and now, all she could think of doing was go on all fours and raise her rump, so he could take her from behind like the savage beast he was.

His eyes narrowed. "Not many think about spreading their legs after seeing my true form." Something amused entered his expression. "Then again, no one has ever laid eyes on my form and lived to tell the tale."

Juliette’s breath hitched with fear, even as her cheeks flushed with shame.

His hand lifted, as if to catch the colour of her cheeks on his fingertips, but he was too far from her. "You’re far too fascinating to kill."

Juliette wasn’t sure when she stopped trembling with fear. Heat spread along her skin and her body arched, ached for him. "Thank you... for saving my life. It was... very kind of you."

He blinked, long lashes dusting his cheekbone. "Kind," he repeated, like he wasn’t familiar with the word.

And in the blink of an eye, he had closed the distance between them. Juliette gasped as an arm yanked at her waist, raising high on her very tip toes, and she found her chest crushed against his.

His free hand found her neck, circling. "I am not a kind man, or a good one for that matter," he muttered.

His head dipped and her knees shook when his mouth found the side of her neck in a slow, hot kiss that made her pulse jump straight into his palm. "Everything I do is solely for my own gain. I am entirely, unapologetically selfish. I will take, and take, and I will always stay true to my nature."

Another kiss, open-mouthed, pressed at the hollow beneath her ear and Juliette hated that her head tipped back anyway, giving him more of her throat.

"I didn’t save you tonight of the goodness of my black, black heart." His tongue traced the line his mouth had just taken. "I collect debts and favours. And now, you owe me."

Her nails dug into her palm as she fought another moan as his teeth grazed her pulse. "I have nothing to give--"

"No. You misunderstand, Juliette," he said, hedging her against the wall. "The things I want are not spurned from some tender, mortal affection."

He yanked her off her feet and brought her mouth to his.

His tongue was swift and sure, teasing her into parting her lips. Juliette moaned as he took the kiss like he was drawing the life out of her. She felt herself folding, heat licking down her spine, her fingers curling against his bare chest--

Then he was gone.

Juliette opened her eyes to find a blur of blond hair slammed into him and they hit the wall hard enough to crack it. Juliette dropped onto her heels, gasping.

"Quinlan! No!"

Her brother didn’t look at her. He had the demon by the throat with one hand and the other already driving forward, claws out, straight through the chest.

The sound it made was wet. Juliette ran. "Quinn please! Please don’t hurt him!"

"He was touching you," Quinlan snarled. "He had his hand on your neck--"

"No! I mean, yes! But it was... I was... We were..." Juliette trailed off, her face red with mortification.

Quinlan twisted his fist and pulled before Juliette could scream. And he came up empty.

He stared at his own hand. Then at the hole he’d punched through the man’s chest. There was nothing in it. No heart. Just a dark, gaping hole. "What the..."

The demon looked down at himself, then up at Quinlan, and chuckled.

"Well," he pouted. "This is earlier than I intended."

He peeled himself away from Quinlan, the flesh on his chest knitting as they watched. He seemed fine, not even ruffled by it, and in two blinks, the hole was gone.

He straightened, naked, unbothered, and flicked a glance between them.

"The resemblance is uncanny." His mouth curved. "Almost disturbing, considering how often I’ve thought about fucking your sister."

Quinlan lunged for him with a roar that shook the bedroom.

The demon vanished.

Quinlan’s claws tore through empty air. Juliette opened her mouth to shout and the demon was behind her brother instead.

"Boo."

Quinlan whirled, slashing him across the face--no. He was gone again.

He reappeared in front of Juliette, caught her face in both hands, and kissed her like her brother wasn’t standing three feet away. The kiss was messy and filthy, killing the sound of protest in Juliette’s throat until she was a moaning mess.

"We’ll be well acquainted soon," he murmured against her mouth loud enough for both of them to hear. His teeth caught her earlobe. "Until then... dream of me often."

Then he was gone.

Quinlan was in front of her in the next second, yanking his shirt over her head, eyes wild.

"Are you hurt. Did he hurt you. Julie. Look at me. What the hell was that thing?"

Juliette heard him. She just couldn’t quite arrive at an answer at the moment. Her mouth was still tingling. Her thighs were still shaking and slick. She was staring at the empty space where the man had been like she could will him back. A wistful sigh escaped her.

She was blown away. Helplessly, foolishly charmed, goddess help her.

A soft purr came from under the bed, bringing her back to the present and she cried out, her heart unclenching. "Phil!"

The Bombay slunk out, green eyes bright, tail up, as if he had been hiding from the commotion the entire time. Juliette made a small sound in her throat and scooped him up, crushing him to her chest.

"I’m sorry," she whispered into his fur. "You must have been so frightened."

Phillip burrowed between her breasts and purred loud enough to vibrate through her ribs.

"Yes, yes, I know. I’m alright now," she whispered.

Quinlan looked at the cat. Then at his sister. Then at the headless mercenary. Then his eyes narrowed at the cat again.

"Julie," he said, and Juliette took a step back. Why did he look like he was considering murdering her cat, too?

"No," she protested. "I’m keeping him. I don’t care what you say--"

"That thing. The eyes--"

She kissed Phillip’s head. "He’s had a terrible night, Quinn. We’ve both had a terrible night. Don’t be unkind."

He still hadn’t looked away from her cat. Juliette held Phillip tighter, and the tail scruffed around her waist, almost possessively, those large eyes blinking at Quinlan as if daring him to come closer.

Quinlan dragged a hand down his face and shook his head, finally looking away. He glanced sharply around the bedroom.

"Do I even want to know?" he muttered, already heading for her dresser, cursing when he had to step around the ruined body.

"Non," Juliette supplied. After a slight pause, she added, "What are you doing?"

"I’m packing your things. It’s not safe here. You’re staying at the mansion until it is."

For once, she didn’t argue.

She only held the cat a little tighter and wondered, miserably, if she would sleep at all tonight.

Just so she could see her beast again.

Phillip purred.

Quinlan’s back went rigid. If Quinlan heard something like laughter in it, he kept that thought to himself.