Kris Starr used to be famous. Rock and roll. Sold-out shows. Literal magic. Empathic talents and screaming fans. But he has a problem or two. He's having a hard time writing new music. It’s Midwinter, which means he’s surrounded by depressing holiday cheer. And he's in love with Justin, his manager, who has a talent for rescuing almost- or once-famous bands ... and who’s hiding secrets of his own. Justin Moore, on the other hand, is very good at keeping those secrets -- he's had to be for years. One secret involves a demonic inheritance that would make him a target of suspicion. Another involves his past. And the third involves Justin’s feelings for Kris Starr, rock and roll icon and now his client ... and a powerful empath of his own.

A Demon for Midwinter

When he pushed into Justin’s welcoming body, that tender tight space, they both groaned. In unison.


He did not try to make it last; they did not need that. He thrust hard, and Justin moved with him, quivering around and under him; he cradled Justin’s head, and smoothed tear-tracks with rough thumbs. He kissed his sharp-toothed demon as Justin arched up to meet him, eager and hot around the plundering invasion, cock equally hot and hard and dripping want between their bodies.


They came simultaneously, falling into infinite shared glory, Kris atop him and inside him amid the glowing snarled skein of euphoria and release and relief and love. Justin moaned when Kris kissed him again, and shuddered through a second climax, or at the very least an echo of the first.


Justin’s wrists bore very light pink marks from bondage, after; they hardly showed against that skin. He smiled, touching one. “Yours.”


Chapter 98