The Demon's Redemption E-Book

Alana Church

• Herausgeber: Boruma Publishing
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Sister Kathleen is possessed by a horny demon! Can the sexy nun use Lorelei's power for good, while at the same time finally giving in to her carnal urges? And not far away, succubi demon-hunters Althea and Morgan sense Lorelei's presence. When Hell's Horny Angels finally meet, it will change everything that Althea has spent her life believing! Can a demon actually be forgiven?

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

"So," Patrick said, his eyebrows raised warily as she laid the last of the dishes in the sink. They could wait for later, Kathleen decided. "You want to talk?"

"No." She shook her head. "I want to make love.

"With you."

And with those words, she took three short steps across the tiny kitchen, hugged Patrick around the waist, and looked up. He fit in her arms so perfectly. As if they had truly been made for each other. As if God had decided, before the world had even been created, that she and Patrick were destined to live their lives together. And nothing, not even her grandmother's spite or her own halting steps to self-discovery, would stand in that path.

A thought struck her. Could even Lorelei be part of that plan?

~Spare me,~ the demon replied with a shudder. ~I want nothing to do with God or heaven ever again.~

To her relief, Patrick didn't protest, or stutter, or make a stupid joke, or fall into a puddle of male uncertainty. Instead, he simply looked down at her, his blue eyes solemn. "You're sure?"

"Completely," she replied. She lifted up, her heels giving her sufficient height to offer him her mouth. Patrick took it without question, and she moaned. His lips were soft but firm, sliding over hers with a casual male confidence that was incredibly sexy. She pressed forward, pushing Patrick into the counter, wanting to feel every wonderful inch of him along her body.

"I've wanted you so long," he whispered, and now, oh, and now his hands were gathering up her skirt, every move of his fingers lifting it higher and higher in the air. Past her shins, her knees, her thighs, until he could set his hands on her hips, bare except for the thin lace of her panties. Kathleen rubbed against him, and now he was getting hard. She could feel it, that subtle, lovely stiffening as his arousal made his body react to hers.

She dropped her hand down. And it wasn't just Lorelei's lusty approval which made her eyes go wide. Patrick filled her palm. Filled it and more. She couldn't stop herself from rubbing him in slow circles, savoring the hot hard length, separated from her by only the thickness of his denim jeans.

He chuckled into her mouth, and Lorelei crooned. ~Yes. Here is a man!~

Leseprobe

The Demon’s Redemption

By Alana Church

Artwork by Moira Nelligar

Copyright 2022 Alana Church

~~ All characters in this book are over 18. ~~

Chapter 1

There is something to be said, Sister Kathleen Greeley thought as she woke up after a night of incredible revelations, for having an immortal, horny succubus inside your head. She stretched, reliving the evening before. Her body felt loose and languid, and she still tingled with pleasure, even though she knew that nothing physical had actually occurred. Everything had been in her mind. For instance, you can spend the entire night having awesome mind-sex, and you don’t have to worry about driving home in the cold or whether to let the guy spend the night.

~The woman, either,~ agreed the voice of Lorelei, the demon in question. ~I will say, though,~ she continued, her voice slow and throaty, ~you do seem to have a certain innate talent for it. Much more than I would have expected from a nun who was a virgin up until a few days ago.~ Invisible hands seemed to caress her body, making her pulse quicken. ~Ready for some more?~

“No,” Kathleen said out loud. “And stop it. I told you. I am not going to become your puppet. And if you hope to be anything more than a demon, preying on the weak, you have to learn some self-control. So lay off the paranormal hanky-panky.”

~Self-control is completely overrated,~ Lorelei sniffed. But she stopped.

“Come on,” Kathleen said. “Since you’re pretending to behave, I’ll give us a shower.”

Lorelei didn’t reply, but Kathleen could feel the warm sense of approval, which only increased as she undressed and settled under the hot spray. No matter how the two of them had been thrown together (and Kathleen still thought it a joke worthy of God, who wasn’t above a little perverse humor, if you read the bible closely enough) it seemed Lorelei was a hedonist at heart, for all that she was an immortal spirit who had somehow escaped Hell and found herself in the mind (and body) of a Catholic nun. Her true name was Loreliel, and she had once been an angel. And then she had been a demon.

And what is she now?

Lorelei’s hands took control of her body for a moment, rubbing soap into her breasts. ~Your ally. As long as you stay true to me.~

Kathleen ignored the implied threat. She had deduced Lorelei’s true name, and bound her by it, when she finally guessed the violent urges driving her were not her own. But it would be impolite to remind her of that now. The demon had suffered much. More than Kathleen could guess or Lorelei would tell. And the alliance between them was still fragile. Would it really be possible for her to put aside millennia of bitterness and dedicate her life to the light? To somehow redeem the act which had resulted in her banishment to the Pit in the first place?

Lorelei didn’t think so. But then, Lorelei didn’t trust anything or anyone. And considering the company she had been keeping for the last few thousand years, Kathleen couldn’t blame her. Deception and betrayal were the coin in which demons paid each other. And trust and honor were nothing more than a joke.

Much too soon for Lorelei’s liking, she turned off the shower and got dressed. “We still need to think about what we’re going to do about Consuela and Nick,” she commented, referring to her fellow teacher and the lovely Latina student who had set her eyes on him. Beyond all sense, it seemed they were truly meant for each other. Kathleen had seen it, the soulshine, with the mystical second sight Lorelei’s presence lent to her, though the demon mocked the very existence of love.

~What’s to think about?~ Lorelei sniffed. ~Get them in a room together and let human nature do the rest. They’re both so randy for each other that they won’t be able to help themselves. Not that Nick is much to look at. Too thin. Now, give me that lad Patrick next door.~ A hungry purr emanated in Kathleen’s mind. ~He’s enough to make me wish I was embodied. Almost as lovely as-~

She cut herself off, but Kathleen believed she could sense the direction of her thoughts. “Not just any room,” she disagreed. “And not a hotel. It has to be right.”

~They’re human. They want to screw. What does it matter?~

“They’re young,” Kathleen countered. “Impressionable. Especially Consuela. We can’t just get them a rent-by-the-hour room at some scummy hotel and expect that what happens there will be a good foundation for the rest of their lives together. Even if they enjoy themselves while they’re…they’re…”

~Fucking?~

Kathleen ignored the flush that heated her cheeks. And other places, too. “Yes. They’ll feel guilty and dirty after. We want this to be something they will remember for the rest of their lives. Not something they want to forget.”

~Where, then?~ the demon asked impatiently.

“Hmmm.” Kathleen drummed her fingers on her thigh. “It can’t be Nick’s place. The imbalance of power is already too great in his favor. And Consuela has a herd of brothers and sisters. They can’t meet at her home.”

Kathleen could almost hear Lorelei’s smirk. “Oh, no.”

~Why not? Your bedroom is an adequate place for lovemaking, though you have not indulged yourself nearly often enough for my taste. The girl will feel safe and protected. And the male will know he will need to respect her, with you nearby.~

“I am not going to be in the same room with them! That’s…indecent!”

~And did I suggest you do so? Just your presence in this…apartment…will comfort the child, while making sure the man is gentle with her.~

“Hmmm.” Kathleen thought it over, while she made her breakfast. Usually she didn’t have much more than a bagel or a muffin in the morning. But Lorelei had made her feelings about such a drab meal known, so she brought out fresh fruit, juice, and made a bowl of oatmeal with plenty of brown sugar.

“If you have your way,” she commented as she ate, “I will be fat as a pig in just a few months.”

~Nonsense. We have a comely form. I will now allow you to spoil it.~

“All right,” she decided, as she chased the last spoonful of oatmeal around the bowl. “We’ll do it your way.”

She tried to ignore the raucous (and borderline obscene) celebration in her mind as she sent text messages to both Connie and Nick, suggesting she had thought of a way out of their predicament and inviting them over to her apartment later that afternoon. Consuela’s reply came back in mere minutes, almost frantically eager. Nick’s took longer, and Kathleen wondered if he was having second thoughts. But he finally responded while she was putting her dishes in the sink.

Kathleen, of course, had neglected to tell either of the two would-be lovers their potential partner would be there. Humming to herself, she puttered around the apartment, making sure all was ready for their arrival. She took special care in her bedroom, where she changed out the sheets and blankets for clean ones. After thinking on it, she also put a pair of scented candles on the nightstand. And following a series of sardonic comments from Lorelei which made her blush, she made a trip to the convenience store to buy a few things she would have sworn she would never have need to purchase. The clerk didn’t look at her twice, simply ringing them up and dropping them into a plastic sack. But she still felt as if every eye in the place was on her.

~Guilty conscience?~ Lorelei purred.

You shut up.

And then there was nothing to do but wait. And hope.

“Again!”

Morgan leaned against a wall, smiling, as Althea’s sword swung through open air, just missing opening her cousin John’s scalp. He ducked, the blade whistling mere inches over his head. As he did, his sister Jasmine moved forward, pressing her attack on the immortal succubus. Wooden sword-blades met with a harsh clatter that echoed through the air of the salle.

They were getting better, Morgan thought. Her twin cousins were almost a match for her now, winning almost as often as she defeated them. Though neither had been able to take her solo yet, blessed as she was with a succubus’ superhuman strength and speed. And each time they came to Althea’s home for their monthly visit and tutorial, they got closer to their first ever victory over the bronze-haired immortal.

The reward for doing so, Althea had hinted, would be an orgy of epic proportions.

Perhaps that explained John’s error. Her cousin had been drooling over Althea practically since the moment he met her. But despite his hints and the soulful glances he sent her way, the succubus had not taken him to bed yet. Which was completely out of character for Althea, since the woman seemed constitutionally incapable of restraining herself when it came to sex, despite being married with a pair of adorable children. And neither was most of the rest of her extended family. John and Jasmine, Morgan thought, got laid more in one weekend in Chicago than most college students did in an entire month. It would have been enough to make an apprentice succubus like Morgan feel envious, if she hadn’t been getting laid with even greater frequency.

She stretched sensuously, wondering idly who she would take to bed tonight. Or this afternoon, once training was over. Yasna, Althea’s sultry, dark-skinned wife, an impressive woman in her own right? Rachel’s artist husband Joshua? Or perhaps Alex and his submissive wife Maria, back in Chicago after a summer and fall of doing auditions in LA, might be tempted into another three-way. The first time had been an education, to be sure, as Alex and Morgan had tied Maria up and pleasured her until she was a puddle of quivering flesh, almost begging for her husband to take her and give her release. Or perhaps even Rachel herself, whose body had taken on some of Althea’s own characteristics, due to the long weeks the succubus had spent as an unwilling visitor in her mind.

“Ow! Son of a bitch!”

Morgan shook her head. Thinking that for once he had the upper hand, John had gone on the attack, actually driving Althea back several paces. When she had staggered and sunk to one knee, he went in for the kill. But his confidence had been misplaced, as Althea twisted like a snake, spinning away from his lunge to deliver a heavy, stinging slap to his side with the flat of her wooden blade that doubled him over. With her cousin out of the fight, Althea rose to her feet and stalked Jasmine across the salle, finally disarming her with a wicked twist of her wrist.

Jasmine raised her hands in acknowledgement of her defeat, and Althea stalked back to John, who was still rubbing his side. Her cousin would have another impressive bruise, come morning.

“Disemboweled,” the succubus smiled, though she was breathing deeply, and sweat had plastered some of her golden-bronze hair to her head. “You lose, youngling.”

“Damn it.” Beside him, Jasmine smirked. “What did I do wrong?”

“You went in for the kill like a cow rushing down to the river for a drink,” Althea said. “Watch.” She backed away from them, her hands flashing as she repeated the series of parries with her sword, then sank to one knee. “At no time was I ever off balance, do you see? That in itself should have been enough to warn you I was setting a trap.”

“Traps.” John’s voice was slightly bitter. “Yeah. I’ve heard you guys are good at traps. Like that demon you took out in Columbia.”

“Never fight fair when there’s an alternative,” Althea replied cheerfully.

“Why not?”

She shook her head impatiently. “Because there’s an infinite supply of them and a finite supply of us. You know this. I’ve told you enough times.”

“Not if you brought more humans into it,” John retorted. “Let mortals help.”

Althea raised one elegant eyebrow a fraction of an inch. “Like you, perhaps?”

“Yes.” John flushed, but soldiered gamely on in the face of Althea’s skepticism. “Why can’t we help? Or just me? We’ve been training for months. But we always get left behind. When you and Yasna and Morgan went to Columbia, you left in the middle of the night. And you didn’t let us help when you investigated those murders in Wyoming. Or Florida last month.” His fists clenched in frustration. “Morgan’s our cousin. We love her. Why can’t we help?”

“Wyoming and Florida were false alarms.”

“But they might not have been.” Unexpectedly, Morgan came to John’s defense. “We never have enough help, Althea. You know that.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said. And after that, she refused to be drawn further into the conversation. John’s one attempt to badger her was returned by a flat, emerald-green stare that made him swallow and turn away.

A few minutes later, after Althea soundly beat both John and Jasmine in individual sparring matches, they began to clean up the salle. Various weapons, both real and practice, were wiped down and put away. Mats were folded up and placed neatly along the walls. And the first-aid kit, luckily not needed today, was put back on its shelf.

“Althea, can we talk for a second?” Morgan asked, as they mopped the shining hard-wood floor.

“If it’s about your cousins, forget it.” Her lips were still pinched in irritation.

Morgan switched the intended track of her conversation. “It’s not about them. At least, not yet.” She waved a farewell to John and Jasmine as they walked out the door. Jasmine was talking low-voiced to John, whose shoulders were still slumped. Morgan could guess why.

“What is it, then?”

“Have you sensed anything…bad…lately? When you’ve been warding and scrying?”

Althea scrubbed at a stubborn stain on the floor. “Like what?”

“Like…like a demon.”

Her head snapped up. “Where?”

“Close,” Morgan whispered. “Here. In Chicago.”

Althea blinked slowly. “I haven’t. No. Describe it for me. Anything you can.”

“It’s hard. It’s not like the one last summer, down in Columbia.” That demon had been a horror which had filled her sleep with nightmares for weeks. Dreams where she had been not quite quick enough, and the last thing she saw before death were her own intestines spilling out of horrible gashes in her belly. “It’s to the northeast. Close to downtown, I think. But here’s the thing. It kind of seems to…waver. In and out. It’s like a smell. One second it’s sweet, like orange blossoms or a plum tree or lilac. The next, it’s like rotting fruit. Crystal-clear water, then it turns into sewage. And then back again. And sometimes it’s both.”

Althea frowned. “I haven’t sensed anything.” But her next words heartened her. “Of course, I could be wrong. Scrying was never my strongest skill. If it was, that bastard Kincaid would never have been able to hide under my nose as long as he did. Thank God for Rachel and Alex. They flushed the bastard out to where I could take him down.”

Morgan swallowed, remembering the video Althea had showed them, where she had confronted and executed the hideous demonspawn. Without her intervention, dozens would have been killed. Maybe hundreds. “But why does it feel…feel so strange?”

Althea scowled pensively as she wrung out her mop and poured dirty water down the drain set in one corner oof the large room. The muscles in her arms bunched with the strain. Morgan watched admiringly, sighing as her eyes played over her glorious form. She could totally see John’s point. Despite throwing enough hints Althea’s way that the succubus should have stumbled over at least one of them, Althea hadn’t invited her to bed, either, not in the eight months since she had become her apprentice. Of course, all of the succubi were in some way cousins to each other. But she didn’t think that was the reason.

“I don’t know,” Althea said at last. “Let’s get inside, where I can concentrate. I want to try to get a feel of what you’re sensing before I make a snap judgement.”