Infinity Book 3
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Mikayla S
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2,6M
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72
No Rest for the Newly Married
Book Three
Zayla
My lifelong mate and new husband, Soren, wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me close. We are standing on the front porch of his cabin—our cabin—where he has just thrown open the front door before returning to my side.
“Ready?” he murmurs into my hair.
I sigh, nod, and raise my eyes to meet his. “Do we have to?”
He smiles gently. “I wish we were back on Mustique,” he says. “Unfortunately…”
With no thought for anything, Soren had swept me away on our honeymoon exactly one month ago. But now, our honeymoon was over.
It was back to the real world.
The real world of life in the Netherworld, in Hell.
He has a job to get back to, as the Death of supernatural beings. And I have to start my new job, as the Death of humans.
We are the world’s reapers, and it’s time to get back to work.
“All right,” I sigh. “I’m ready.”
Without further warning, Soren sweeps me up into his arms and carries me across the threshold.
“It’s about time you two showed up.” My new father-in-law, and our boss, Lucifer, was sprawled across the sofa in the living room, a big bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of him.
From the number of empty beer bottles on the floor around the sofa, he’s been here a while.
The sofa faces the wall where Soren’s dual-screen television—supernatural world and human world side-by-side—is usually mounted. But where my husband’s TV was of moderate size, it has now been expanded to fill the entire wall like a movie screen.
Lucifer’s supernatural powers at work.
Luckily—other than the huge-ass screen—everything else seems the same as normal.
“What are you doing here, Dad?” Soren asks his father.
Father and boss.
Now, he’s my boss, too.
And if Lucifer has no boundaries, invading our private sanctuary, this job is going to be even harder than I thought.
“Look, you two,” Lucifer’s expression is somewhere between a sneer and a smirk. “I was all for it when you guys fell in love, blah, blah, blah. Well, maybe not all for it…But no one on my crew thought your absence would mess things up so bad.”
“What are you talking about?” I say, stepping out from behind my mate’s shoulder.
My mate!
“Without you two around to reap the souls of the dying, this world has gone to…well, it’s gone to hell!”
Lucifer is known for his over-the-top dramatics. I need more info before I’m going to panic.
The god of the Underworld pats the sofa cushions beside him. “Sit down, Babycakes,” he says, “and watch.”
He points the remote at the massive new wall screen and unmutes the sound. Our backs had been to the dual screen until now, and with the sound off neither Soren or I had noticed what was playing.
But as I take a seat beside Lucifer on the sofa, with Soren beside me, my eyes widen with shock.
What I thought must be Lucifer watching another horror movie or disaster flick—his favorites—turns out to be news broadcasts from both worlds.
“The rash of hit-and-run drop-offs of elderly relatives at local nursing homes continues. Although no patients have died in the past weeks, thereby not opening up spaces for the elderly infirm in need of care, families unable to care for their loved ones have no alternative but to drop them off at local facilities in hopes they get the care their families cannot provide,” one newscaster reported.
My eyes flick aside to the supernatural news station on the other side of the screen.
“The vampire-werewolf conflict is heating up, with casualties on both sides. Normally, werewolf bites are fatal for vampires, but suddenly these wounds leave suppurating sores oozing pus and bile instead of killing.
“On the other hand, vampire bites of werewolves leave their victims trapped in a netherworld, where they shift between wolf and something else without warning.”
And back again—
“Tonight’s massive wreck on I-95 involved nearly a dozen big rigs and as many as a hundred passenger vehicles. First responders’ jobs have been complicated by the many victims who in the past would have died from their injuries, but who are now wandering along the sides of the interstate hauling broken limbs and internal organs behind them as they seek assistance.”
The screens are filled with one story after another of carnage and mayhem.
I’m shocked into silence, mouth hanging open.
What the fuck is going on?
“Yes, sweeties,” Lucifer points the remote at the wall screen again, muting the sound. “This turns out to be all on you. We of the Underworld sincerely hope you’ve had a lovely honeymoon. But it’s fucking time to fucking get back to fucking work. Do your fucking jobs!”
***
“So, where do we start?” I ask Soren after his father leaves. “This is all new to me…”
My husband wraps his arms around me, nearly making me drop the half-empty bowl of popcorn Lucifer left behind.
“Don’t worry, little Lux,” he says. “You’ll be fine.”
“The pressure—” I start, but don’t know what to say. Am I about to fucking fail, before I’ve even started?
“I am here beside you, Zayla, every step of the way. Together we can do anything, right?”
Thinking back on all that we’ve been through, just to be able to be together, I hope Soren is right.
But what if I’m not good enough? Not strong enough?
The worlds of humans and supernaturals are a total mess, and all because we went on a fucking vacation.
And, I mean, it’s not like I ever thought I’d spend my life reaping souls, ending peoples’ lives.
If I’d even thought about it before we left—and I have to admit that I hardly did—I guess I thought that without reapers claiming souls for a month or two that things might get a little overcrowded here on earth.
I never even considered the carnage that would happen because Soren and I took a honeymoon. After all, he has reapers who do the work for him, doesn’t he? Why haven’t they been doing their fucking jobs then?
Picking up a trashcan, I begin gathering up the empty beer bottles Lucifer has left lying around.
“I keep thinking of all those people lying in their hospital beds,” I say, “suffering from terminal illnesses. They can’t die without me to reap their souls. They suffer in pain. Their loved ones suffer, watching, waiting for them to die and be free of pain.”
All so that Soren and I could walk hand-in-hand along tropical beaches, fuck in the sand, swim bare-ass naked in the ocean.
“And here I am,” I swing around and stomp into the kitchen. “Cleaning up after Lucifer, when I should be at work already!”
Soren steps in front of me, a broom in his hands, blocking my path.
“Slow down, Zayla!” he says. “It’s late. We need to sleep. We’ll get a fresh start in the morning. For now,” he sets aside his broom and takes the trashcan filled with empties from my hands. “For now, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow will be here soon enough.”
I let him lead me down the hallway to his bedroom—our bedroom—and pull my shirt off over my head.
Stepping back, Soren strips out of his clothes, then falls on his knees in front of me.
Slowly, oh! so slowly, he unbuttons the fly of my jeans and pulls down my zipper one tooth at a time, until my naked mound is revealed to his eyes.
He loves it when I go commando.
And now that I am married, I never want anything more between my flesh and my mate’s hand—and mouth—than is absolutely necessary.
Sliding his hands beneath the fabric, Soren pushes back the sides of my fly, working my jeans off my slender hips and down my legs.
For one long, torturous moment, he sits there on his haunches, staring as if mesmerized. Then, with a growl which starts deep in his throat and moves through his entire body, my lover buries his nose in my snatch.
“Ooohhhh!” I can’t stop my cry.
Soren’s lips open, latching onto my clit and sucking me deep into his mouth. My knees buckle, but his hands are there to cradle my ass cheeks, holding me upright.
My knees part as Soren holds me in front of him. Loose limbed, I open up to him completely.
His mouth continues to ravage me as my juices begin to flow. My head falls back, and I groan, the sound quivering through my chest as my breasts strain upwards.
Soren’s hands are otherwise occupied, so I cup my soft breasts myself, pinching my nipples until they stand hard in the cool air of our bedroom.
Soren pulls his face away, lips wet and glistening, and grins up at me. “Back up,” he orders, and I do, until the edge of the bed connects with the back of my legs.
I can’t help but giggle as he plants one broad hand on my flat abdomen and pushes. I tumble onto the bed on my back, legs spread wide to either side.
“Oh, Soren,” I moan as he crawls partway up the bed and his fingers find the soft, wet folds of my sex again.
“Ohhh, Zayla,” he says in return, laughing. “My sweet, sweet Zayla. Always so ready for me.”
“Aaahhhh!” I scream with pleasure as he plunges one finger, then two, then three deep inside me.
His other hand is unoccupied, so I reach down and grab hold of it. Lifting one leg high off the bed, freeing my ass, I guide his fingers there and he gets the message.
We’ve never done this before—not much, anyway—but I want to share every part of myself with my mate.
It’s too much sensation to resist.
Screaming, shaking, thrashing on the bed, I reach the strongest climax I’ve ever felt.
Our mating is off to a very good start.
If only our lives outside of this room don’t interfere…
