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Logan huddled in the shelter of a large rock and listened to the wind moaning around him. Bitter anger at Queen Maeve's treachery still burned in his gut, but that would have to wait. At the moment, he had more pressing concerns. Somewhere out there, in the scouring dust and burning wind, something was hunting him.

If he was lucky, it was another human. The hunter was human-shaped. He knew that from the one glimpse he had gotten before, it had vanished behind cover. Unfortunately, that wasn't much comfort. The demons that called this nightmare realm home could almost pass for human.

Almost.

He glanced into the sky as he did every few minutes. Logan had quickly learned that lesson. Many of the demons could fly. A sudden shadow or the subtle flap of leather wings might be his only warning. Like birds of prey, they could hurtle out of that boiling sky in a heartbeat.

This realm was a savage place. Everything that moved was predator or prey. It was obvious which category the one hunting him thought Logan belonged in. Logan was of a mind to disagree.

He reached down and stacked another handful of loose rocks in the most apparent walking path and inside the camouflage of sturdy, sickly white scrub brush. As booby traps went, it was rather piss-poor, but every advantage mattered. The rattle of a loose stone could be his only warning.

His weapons barely qualified as such. A stick of deadwood, from some kind of sickly looking, black tree, was stuck through his belt as a would-be sword. He carried a fist-sized stone in either hand. Sticks and rocks, that was all he had between himself and a world of demons.

Thanks, Maeve, you bitch. He thought.

Logan heard something and went very still. The click of claws on stone? Maybe. It was too faint to identify, but it sounded close.

A shadow fell over him. Something leaped down from the top of the boulder. He moved but too little, too late. Strong arms wrapped around his chest. Pain bloomed in his shoulder as sharp teeth bit deep.

Logan responded instinctively. Hands spread out to break the body hold, followed immediately by a hard elbow strike to the midsection. His attacker fell back from the blow. Quick turn and snap kick.

The creature was hurtled back against the boulder by the strength of his kick. The crack of stone against skull was unmistakable. It fell to the dirt, senseless or dead.

Logan closed to attack and finish the job. He pulled the stick out of his belt, raised it above his head, aimed the sharp end at her throat, and... hesitated.

Her throat. Logan realized. A female.

A naked, young woman lay at his feet, but not a human woman. For starters, her skin was the color of lavender. Subtle patterns of a slightly deeper hue ran across her flesh like a full-body tattoo. Her hair was a lion's mane of snow-white, almost hiding the two small, black horns on her forehead. Sharp black claws extended from her fingertips and toes. Some strange, oily, black smoke seeped out from where her head had struck the rock.

A demon. A native of hell. One that had just tried to kill him.

She was breathtakingly beautiful he saw, now that she wasn't trying to disembowel him. Long, curling lashes framed her eyes. Her face was slightly round, like a girl barely out of her teens, with a cute nose and full, black lips.

Hunter or prey. He reminded himself as he raised the stick to drive it into her chest. He was alive only because he had gotten lucky. Those claws looked wicked sharp, easily capable of scooping his guts out like ice cream. And she was built for hunting. Head to toe, she had the sleek muscles of a professional athlete with a tiny waist and smooth, flared hips. There was nothing soft about her. Well, nothing except those magnificent, perfectly round breasts.

Killed or be killed. Logan took a deep breath.

And that perfect bubble butt. And that face. She looked so cute laying there asleep. So vulnerable. So helpless.

He scowled and lowered the stick. "Godammit, Logan."

***

Logan stared across the small fire he had managed to build and wondered what the hell he was going to do now. His captive still lay where he had carried her, still bound hand and foot with strips of his shirt. The rest he had used as a bandage to wrap the claw marks down his shoulder and staunch the bleeding.

The rock had left an ugly cut on her head, but when he gently brushed her hair back, there was no blood, so hopefully, that was a good thing. Apparently, demons did not bleed. Her breathing looked even and untroubled. Healthy even, the way her firm breasts rose and fell with every breath.

"Dammit." Logan got up to look outside yet again. He couldn't go far even if he had wanted to. The shelter he had discovered could not correctly be called a cave. It was more of a deep cut in a cliff, but it kept the stinging wind out and hid them from the view of any flying demons, thus firmly qualifying as "better than nothing." Unfortunately, it was a bit too cozy for two.

If he sat, they touched. No matter how he shifted about, eventually, some part of him came to rest against some part of her. Under normal circumstances, that would not be a problem with a willing female as lovely as she was.

His current situation did not qualify as normal circumstances for many reasons. There was, for instance, the fact that his unexpected house guest was still entirely, and gloriously naked. He tried not to stare at her perfect curves. To keep his imagination from wandering down inappropriate avenues. To ignore the way having her hands bound behind her back pushed her already impressive breasts out even further. Or the cute landing strip of snow-white hair between her legs.

Shit! Logan ground his teeth in frustration, stood at the opening, and focused on deep breathing, which wasn't much help because of reason number two. She smelled magnificent! Not quite perfume. Not quite that clean scent of skin. Somewhere in between the two, a spicy-sweet musk that seemed to linger in his nose. In such a small space, it was inescapable.

The touching issue was also unavoidable in his tiny shelter, which was reason number three. The demon girl had the muscle tone of a jungle cat, but her skin was as soft as warm butter. As smooth as sin and just as dangerous.

None of which was at all helping the fact that Logan was horny as hell. He shouldn't be. Queen Maeve had drained him dry only hours ago, not once but twice. Regardless, his dick had been a lead pipe in his pants ever since picking the female up and carrying her into this shelter.

Last but not least, there was the tiny fact that she had bloody well tried to murder him! Walking wet dream or not, bringing her back to his hide-away easily qualified as the dumbest damn thing Logan had ever done in his entire life. Once she woke up, there was zero reason to think she would not try again. He did not dare to sleep.

Logan sighed and rubbed at his eyes. Speaking of sleep, how long had it been? At the very least since before arriving in the clearing of Grandfather Bear. Time seemed to mean nothing here, but his internal clock said he was on day two with no real rest.

He turned back to see yellow eyes looking back at him and went very still. Her pupils were slitted like cat eyes and watched him with a steady, unblinking gaze. A heartbeat of silence settled between them, then two.

"So... hi." He offered.

She said nothing, gave no indication that she understood at all. Logan took a step toward her. She tensed. No fear, just a sense of being ready and waiting. Slowly and with some difficulty, she managed to sit up. The effort made her anatomy jump and sway in ways that made Logan's mouth go dry.

Logan knelt closer to eye level. "Can you understand me?" He tried for some version of low and soothing, but still no response. He sighed. "No? Well, I guess that sort of rules out, "Please don't try to kill me again" as a conversation starter."

He pointed to his chest. "Logan. I am Logan."

The creature looked where he pointed. He dared to hope he was somehow getting through. Then yellow eyes wandered lower until she was staring at the bulge in his pants, clearly outlined as he knelt in front of her. Eventually, reluctantly, she looked up at Logan's face. There was no mistaking the invitation or the hunger in her golden eyes. Her nipples grew taut with desire. He watched, breathless, as her thighs opened as much as having bound ankles would allow. Logan could not help but notice that her nether lips were a darker shade of purple and wet.

He found it a little eerie and a lot erotic. The creature made no big show out of it. There were no subtle games of seduction and no hint of anything like modesty or embarrassment. She made it seem so simple. I am aroused. Let's fuck.

The musk of her sex hit Logan like a rock to the head. It made him dizzy. It made him hard. Logan wanted to tear her loose and dive in headfirst. He wanted...

He stood abruptly and jabbed a finger at her. "Enough! I do not fuck prisoners of war, and I'm not going to give you the chance to cut my throat, so just fucking stop it."

A long moment passed in silence. Slowly, without ever breaking eye contact, she closed her legs. Logan sat back down once the hammering of his heart eased off a bit, and his blood pressure dropped out of heart attack range. Her naked leg lay against his dirty pant leg. If she noticed, she gave no indication. Neither did she make any further efforts.

He held his hands up. "I need to check those bindings and make sure they are not hurting you. So, take it easy, alright?" He scooted closer. "Easy." He murmured. Logan checked the knots around her ankles and ran a finger under the strips of cloth to make sure they were not too tight. He reached over to touch the silky skin of her naked shoulder and gave her a gentle push, encouraging her to roll onto her stomach. She seemed to comprehend and did as ordered. Logan checked the knots around her wrists and loosened them where they had gotten a little too tight. He made a mighty effort to stay focused on the task and not on the swell of her naked, toned bottom pressed against his leg.

Logan was sweating by the time he crawled back over to his side, and his dick ached from the constant erection. "This is gonna be a long night." He told her. The yellow glow of her eyes gave nothing away of the thoughts hidden behind them.

***

Logan awoke quite suddenly to the chilling realization that he had nodded off, and to the sensation of wet heat. He blinked and looked down at a lovely face in his lap and plump, black, demon lips gently working up, then swallowing his cock whole with no difficulty. His tool was in her throat, so Logan felt as much as heard the growl of warning when her lantern eyes looked up at him.

"OK." He nodded. "I hear ya. No sudden moves. No problem."

She stared into his eyes, tongue absently tracing the shape of the dick in her mouth. After a long moment, she seemed satisfied that he would stay still and went back to work. He watched as she pulled back until her lips were sealed just around the mushroom head, only to reverse and start back down, swallowing every inch. Up and down, in a slow, steady, toe-curling, rhythm that seemed to indicate that she was in no hurry.

His initial fear that she had escaped proved unfounded. She was still securely tied at both wrists and ankles. Somehow, she had wormed her way over while he slept and, with just teeth and tongue, managed to get his fly open and his cock out. How she had achieved such a thing, Logan could not imagine, but it was, without doubt, an impressive feat of oral dexterity. Even now, she had her body twisted over his lap at a most uncomfortable looking angle just so she could get his shaft into her throat.

Logan did not know what to do. Such determination to get him in her mouth was incredibly hot. And yes, what she was doing felt incredible, but that did not change the fact that she had tried to kill him only hours ago. Or that she was a demon. How the fuck was this supposed to end? Would she bite his dick off if he tried to get away? Would she bite it off anyway when she was done?

There was nothing he could do except go along with it. It was strangely exciting. None of the things he usually liked to do during a blowjob, playing with a woman's hair, stroking her skin, placing a guiding hand lightly at the back of her neck, were options he could indulge. Any reaction from him might be perceived as a threat, and that could only end very, very badly for him. In that moment, the tables had turned, and he was the prisoner. The best he could do now was behave, sit still, and let her have her fun.

Which, as he watched her head bobbing up and down, was exactly what was happening. This encounter wasn't even about him. She was sucking his dick like an all-day lollipop for her pleasure. It was her dick until she decided otherwise.

There was nothing to do but watch her work and enjoy the ride. Oddly, her technique was rather crude, almost as if this was the first blow job she had ever attempted. Still, what the demon lacked in experience was more than compensated by a single-minded devotion to the task at hand.

She paused, eyes going wide, and slowly drew back. Logan watched her lick a drop of precum from the head, and swallow. She looked up at him. Her lantern eyes were dilated and unfocused. The demon growled softly.

Whether that was a good thing or bad, Logan had no clue. Quite suddenly, she plunged back down, swallowing him whole, and with a singular purpose. The demon began to work his rigid length at her own pace, without pause or mercy. It felt incredible to him in spite of knowing his enjoyment was not the point.

It was all too much for him. Searing bliss washed through him in waves as he released into her mouth. The demon let nothing escape. Her throat held him and massaged every drop of sperm out of him.

When it was over, Logan gasped for air and watched as his shrinking dick finally slipped from between her lips. Once again, she turned her golden eyes up to meet his gaze. Her head lay in his lap, but whether that was some sort of gesture or just because she was too tied up to move, Logan could not say. Everything about her, her thoughts, her motivations remained a complete mystery.

Logan watched as she roused herself and slowly wormed back over to her side of the "cave." Her eyes glowed as they looked back at him, then slowly closed, perhaps in sleep.

***

"Night" and "day" in this place was a subtle distinction. There was no sun that Logan could see, but then the sky was always covered in angry looking storm clouds that lit up with blood-red lightning, so who could say for sure? It did get darker at "night," but it felt more like shadows growing stronger than just a simple reduction in illumination.

Logan looked out and up to confirm it that the night cycle was over. He was now more than forty-eight hours without food or water. Sleep had helped. Waking up not murdered had been a nice bonus as well.

"The funny part is, I could have all three and a whole lot more." He explained to the demon as he checked the bindings around her wrists. It didn't sound like his voice, and it kind of hurt to talk, but it kept him distracted from his raging thirst, and she didn't seem to mind. "Supposedly, all I have to do is call her name and... poof! Wine, women, food, and song. All mine for the low, low, price of eternal, sexual slavery." Logan chuckled. "What a bargain!"

The demon girl blinked her golden cat eyes at him and tilted her head.

He looked back at her. "What? You never heard the sound of laughter before?" He shook his head. "What am I saying? You're a demon. This is hell. Of course, you haven't."

Logan sighed. "That's the rub, isn't it, my beauty? You being a demon. I don't want to hurt you, and I can't trust you not to hurt me. And if I don't find food and water soon, I won't have the strength to stop you if you try. The way I see it, that only leaves us two choices. The smart play would be to kill you. Unfortunately for me, I have this foolish hang-up about killing helpless people, especially women. Especially gorgeous women. Stupid, I know, but there it is. So, that only leaves one option."

He knelt by her feet and untied the strip of cloth from around her ankles. Standing, he reached down and helped her to rise to her feet. Logan held the length up to her face. She drew back and glared at him.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "But I can't risk you finding your way back to my shelter."

Reluctantly, she suffered him to approach and tie the cloth over her eyes.

"I am going to pick you up now. Don't bite," he warned.

Logan squatted down, settled his shoulder against her belly, reached around the demon's legs, and lifted her in a fireman's carry. Her head and chest folded over onto his back. The soft pressure of her breasts and the hard points of her nipples were inescapable against his naked skin. The gentle swell of her thighs lay under his hands. The demon's ass was a perfect curve that filled the entire right side of his field of vision and the scent of her.

"Oh, boy," he muttered. "OK, my beauty. Time to go."

The demon was slim but not light, and Logan was near exhaustion. It was a slow and difficult journey requiring frequent breaks. Each time, it became slightly more challenging to get her up onto his shoulder. She never made a sound of complaint or struggled to resist.

Finally, Logan judged that they were far enough from his shelter, and had taken enough of an indirect path, to ensure she could not easily find her way back. Gently, he set her down on a rock and nudged the blindfold up so she could see. There was no fear in her eyes, only curiosity.

"This is where we part ways, my beauty. I am going to leave you bound and blindfolded but will loosen the knot so you can eventually get free, OK?" He mimed the act of freeing his hands from behind his back and then pulling the blindfold off. "I figure you can take care of yourself from there."

Logan looked into her eyes and sighed. He didn't want to be alone, especially in this nightmare realm, but he could not afford to be stupid or sentimental. For all her mouth-watering curves, she was a predator. Not so different from a tiger. He understood a wild animal could never be truly tamed. Even after years of captivity, a tiger could turn and attack.

The risk was too high. His odds of survival were already too slim for such a big gamble. Hard choices were required.

He reached behind her and loosened the knot. They shared a last look. He nodded. "Goodbye, my beauty."

Logan pulled the blindfold back down over her eyes and quietly crept away.

***

He lay very still and watched an ugly, rat looking creature scurry across the ground and through tufts of dark, serrated grass. Every few feet, it stopped and reared up on hind legs. Worm-like tentacles around its mouth would then wiggle in the air. It moved from shadow to shadow in quick bursts, hunting for food, and unknowingly being hunted in turn.

Logan ever-so-slowly eased into a crouch and raised his spear. His throw was good. The rat thing squealed and fell.

Back at his camp, Logan skinned the creature with his rock knife and speared the body to cook over the fire. The guts he wrapped up in the hide. Tomorrow he would use the innards as bait for the next unwary predator. Just one more hide should be enough to stitch a small bag together with his bone needle and braided leaf fiber.

Like the rat, Logan paused every few minutes to listen for danger. It was never far away in this place, and the line between predator and prey was always shifting. He cooked rat and ate. He sipped nectar from plant stalks gathered after watching thirsty animals do it first. He braided thread and stitched hide. Occasionally, Logan slept.

After nearly a week, death seemed less certain. Thanks to the local wildlife, he had discovered plants that held water. Crude tools were crafted from the materials available. Random memories continued to re-emerge, not least of which was his grandfather, Jeremiah Proud Bear. Logan frequently thanked the man's memory for teaching a young half-breed how to survive in the wild, as their Apache ancestors had done. Each morning that he awoke was a victory. Every full belly was a battle won. Logan grew lean. He also slowly began to forget how it felt to smile. The fight to survive allowed for no such luxuries.

On day six, Logan emerged at first light to hunt, as had become his habit. Afterward, if he was successful, there might be time to gather more wood. One day, he hoped to have enough to build a crude door across his little nook in the rocks to shield his sleeping body against inevitable discovery. When he slept, Logan dreamed of it. When awake, he tried not to think about days not so long ago, filled with modern conveniences and now impossible luxuries.

Plans and musings were cut abruptly short by movement in his peripheral vision as he stepped out of his shelter. Logan spun, spear raised. Ready to fight, or flee, at a moment's notice.

The demon girl crouched on a nearby boulder, looking at him.

Logan's blood ran cold. She had found him! His secret place and his safety were now compromised. He scanned the area for others waiting to ambush him. Logan saw nothing except her, but that was more than enough. He knew how fast she was and how deadly. There would be no lucky breaks this time.

"Hello, Beauty." He spoke gently. The name seemed right. Logan realized that he had already named her in his thoughts after their first encounter. "How did you find me?"

She tilted her head, then raised her nose into the air and sniffed loudly.

Logan cursed beneath his breath. He had not counted on her being able to track by scent. There was no chance of escape now. For better or worse, it would have to end, here and now.

"What do you want?" he asked.

The demon blinked at him and then reached behind her. Logan tensed and gripped his spear. She turned back to face him. In one hand, she held the corpse of some fat, little mammal. In the other, what appeared to be an actual, honest-to-god, waterskin!

Logan stared, mouth agape. "Are you... offering me food and water?"

She blinked at him and then gently tossed both items to the ground.

He cautiously approached. One step, two steps, three- the demon girl growled at him. Logan stopped. She opened her mouth and pointed at it.

"You want to trade? Is that it?"

Something like frustration seemed to pass across her face. She stabbed a finger at Logan. Then she pointed at her mouth.

"Wait. What?" He scratched at his scraggly, new beard. "No way. You want to trade supplies... for a blow job?"

She tilted her head at him.

"Supplies." Logan pointed at the water skin. "For a blowjob." He reached down and cupped his bulge in one hand. "Yes?"

The demon licked her lips.

Logan laughed and shook his head in disbelief. He could not help it. It was all too absurd. "Well, not exactly what I was expecting, but… yeah, why not. “Make love, not war" works for me. Damn sure beats trying to kill each other."

He watched the demon girl leap down from the rock and retrieve her trade goods. Cautiously, Beauty moved closer, feline grace in every slow step. For the first time, they stood face to face. Logan noted that she many pounds smaller and a full head shorter than he was, but it in no way detracted from her strength and prowess. He looked into her lantern eyes but could not guess what she might be thinking or feeling at that moment.

There was an electric charge in the air between them that Logan could not identify. It felt like the cold brush of danger. It also felt like the held breath of anticipation and wordless possibilities.

Logan held her gaze and stepped back into his shelter. She followed him in, every line of her lush body taught as a bowstring. Once inside, Beauty solemnly presented the trade goods to him. Logan took them in much the same fashion. It all felt strangely formal, like a peace treaty between warring nations.

They stared at each other. The tension in the air was thick enough to swim through. Logan was well aware that, cornered as he was in his shelter, she could rip him into bloody pieces if she wanted to. It was a huge gamble, yet nothing about her body language suggested violent intentions.

The risk is worth the reward. Logan thought, though, in truth, it was more prayer than a statement of fact. Either way, right or wrong, it was too late to back out now.

The animal carcass he set aside for later examination. The water skin was far more interesting. It was leather and well made, reflecting a considerable amount of crafting skill, which seemed to indicate some degree of society. What passed for civilization in hell was impossible to imagine, but at least he knew it was out there. For some reason, it gave him something he had not dared to consider in a long time, hope.

It was heavy. Logan uncorked it and sniffed at the contents. He blinked in surprise. It wasn't water. "Can't be." He took a sip. It was warm, and the flavor was all wrong, but he knew that taste immediately.

Logan looked into her eyes. "Where the hell did you find beer? You know what? Never mind. Thank you, Beauty."

She tilted her head as if attempting to puzzle out his words. Beauty pushed the water skin aside and looked down at his crotch and then back up.

"Now?" He grinned and started unbuttoning his jeans. "Alright, then. If I feel you must..."

She stared as he let his pants fall around his ankles, and his shaft rose to full attention. Small, lavender hands reached out to cup and cradle. Logan breathed a sigh of relief that her claws were, it seemed, retractable. Beauty looked up at him, then pointed at her mouth.

"Go ahead." He smiled. She looked at the pile of dried grass he used for a bed and then back at him. Logan chuckled. "Is this position new for you?" He reached out and placed his fingers on her shoulders. She tensed but did not pull away. "It's OK." Gently, he pushed down, encouraging her to kneel. "Try it. It's fun, I promise."

The demon girl looked down at her hands, gliding over his stiff cock. She looked back up, wide-eyed. Logan could almost see the dots connecting in her mind as she grasped what he was suggesting. Perhaps it was only wishful thinking, but he thought he saw her golden eyes light up in anticipation.

Beauty slowly slid down Logan's body until she knelt in front of him, and his cock was twitching against her cheek and hair. She leaned against it, rubbing her face across his heated and rigid flesh like a cat. Her eyes traveled across his torso as if to commit to memory every contour and curve of his body. Fingers traced over the muscles of his abdomen and thighs. The expression on her face was one of fascination.

Eventually, the demon turned her attention to more urgent concerns. Unlike last time, she now had full use of her hands. Beauty took full advantage of this, stroking and caressing the shape of his penis from root to tip.

It was clear she was learning, and it wasn't always pleasant. She gave his balls a hard squeeze. Logan jumped and gritted his teeth against sudden and unwelcome pain.

"Ow! Easy, Beauty!"

She looked up at him, then back down. She tried again, more gently. Logan groaned encouragement. "That's more like it. Good girl."

Beauty held him in her hands, stroking around the base as she lined him up with her mouth. Her purple tongue snaked out to taste his flesh. She took the head in her mouth, gently sucked on it, then pulled away to stroke his shaft again as she stared at the slit.

He watched her repeat this odd behavior a second time before he understood. Logan smiled down at her and brushed his fingers through her hair. When Beauty looked up, he placed his hand on top of hers, where she was holding his cock. "Give it a good tug and rotate your hand a bit, like this. " He demonstrated by masturbating with her hand.

He let go, and she did as requested. Logan groaned as she quickly mastered handjobs. Her efforts squeezed a drop of precum out.

That, as he had suspected, was what Beauty hungered for. He watched as she leaned forward and slid her tongue over the head. She rolled it around in her mouth, savoring the flavor like a connoisseur of fine wines.

Her hands reached around to cup at his ass. Logan nearly swallowed his tongue as she looked up to meet his gaze, then swooped in and took his entire length down her throat in one, smooth motion. She gave him no time to recover as she pulled back to the tip and did it again. Playtime, it seemed, was over.

Beauty held nothing back, throat fucking him with absolute determination, staring up at him and watching his every reaction with those golden, cat eyes. Wet, slurping noises filled the little shelter as she worked him. A low, and delightful, humming sound of contentment gently vibrated her throat.

"Fuck." Logan grunted at the rising ecstasy cascading through his body. He leaned back against the wall, and his hips instinctively pushed forward into the soft pillows of her plump lips. "Fuck!"

The urge for release grew uncontrollable. Logan's hands sank into her mane of hair, pulling her forward and sealing her lips to his stomach. The tip of her tongue snaked out to tickle his balls as they began to empty into her belly. He held her there as he came, entranced by the shape of her petite mouth, stretched around his thick girth and the subtle rhythm of her throat muscles swallowing each blast of cum.

He let go as the last shiver of orgasm faded, but Beauty was not done with him yet. Logan focused on staying upright on shaky legs as she continued to suck gently, intent on collecting every drop of his cream. Her tongue circled and licked the head, sending blissful post orgasmic after-shocks through his body.

Logan groaned and started to slide to a sitting position on the ground. She let him slip from her mouth and licked her lips. Beauty remained on her knees, watching him with a calm, curious expression.

He took a deep breath and smiled at her. "You know, I think this might be the beginning of a great relationship."

She cocked her head as she looked at him. And then, for the first time, she smiled back.