Chapter Five
CLOSE YOUR EYES.
Even though the demon could have controlled Archie’s body and done it himself, he waited for Archie to close his own eyes before taking over.
It wasn’t anything like how Archie had dreamed of having a lover in his most longing moments.
Damaris had no body, he was sharing Archie’s, so here was no one holding him, no hand entwined in his own, no one’s face pressed closed to his.
But he realized that with his eyes closed, he could almost imagine it that way.
When Damaris undid his clothing, Archie imagined that it was someone else’s hands.
When the shadows gathered on his skin, Archie could feel a soft weight to them as they glided across his skin, he could think of it like the gentle tracing of fingers across his shoulders, down his chest, down the inside of his thigh. He shivered.
You like that. The voice came from inside Archie’s head now that he had opened his body to Damaris.
Archie swallowed. “What are you doing?”
Learning. Damaris did it again. Archie had assumed that this would be like the the first time but longer.
More. But Damaris stayed slow, exploring every inch of Archie’s body with his shadows, caressing him where his skin was the most sensitive and repeating it if Archie gave any reaction.
Every tiny hair on his body prickled at being so exposed, giving so much about himself away.
The shadows dragged long trails down his sides, and that was the only warning Archie got before the shadows gathered around his cock and squeezed.
Like a mouth sucking on his cock, or what Archie imagined it might feel like.
It was maddening. There was no body, no head for Archie to cling to or use as leverage, he could only thrust his hips forward desperately as Damaris tightened around his cock.
Just as Archie was about to spill, Damaris loosened his grip.
Archie cried out in frustration, or tried to, but the shadows pressed over his mouth, muffling the noise from anyone else.
Damaris moved his body, their body, stepping backwards until he reached the bed.
It was oddly exhilarating, feeling his body moved by someone else.
Even more exhilarating when Damaris positioned him on his back, his knees drawn up. The lightest of brush of movement slipped between Archie’s ass cheeks, caressing him and sending a frisson up his spine.
Hold yourself open for me, said Damaris, and Archie felt himself blush. Damaris could have done this himself too, but he’d asked – no, told – Archie to do it instead. He reached down with shaking hands and spread his ass, baring himself.
“Oh gods,” whispered Archie as a sliver of shadow slid inside him, just the tiniest of sensations that tickled that most intimate part of him.
He’d furtively read pamphlets before, the type that boys passed among themselves hidden between pages of more ordinary books, that had had some diagrams and dirty poetry, and he’d dared to touch himself there with his fingers before, but it had never felt like this.
Damaris’s shadows dragged along the sensitive skin there, the feather-soft touch sending shivers up Archie’s spine.
The part that was inside him grew, opening him up, dipping in just long enough for Archie to feel it pressing him open wider, then withdrew again.
Over and over until Archie was half mad wanting more.
Still more? asked Damaris, amused. Archie made a muffled noise. So be it. Only know that you asked for this.
Archie only had a moment to wonder what that meant, when pain and pleasure both lanced through his body.
Damaris forced him open, so wide and long that he imagined it reached his stomach.
He clenched his ass automatically but that made the sensation intensify as Damaris drew out and plunged in again.
He did it again. Full, he felt so full, in a way that a food-hunger satiated would never be able to satisfy him.
Damaris fucked him. There was no other word for it.
Archie’s back bowed, his hands scrabbling against the sheets.
He’d let go at some point, he didn’t remember doing so, but now shadows kept him pressed in place as Damaris had his way with him.
The shadow inside Archie was thick, warm, curved upward, sliding against a spot inside him that lit his nerves every time Damaris thrust in.
The sensation was like nothing Archie had ever felt before, the fire growing low in his abdomen.
He strained, bucked his hips, tried to shout, but the layer of shadow against his back smothered him until he could barely breathe.
All he could feel was the rhythmic thrust inside him.
He whimpered when he realized it was getting bigger, splitting him in two.
Come for me. The words ghosted over his skin and then there was the lightest, barest of touches against the slit of his cock, and Archie came undone.
Something exploded inside of him. His muscles spasmed uncontrollably as Damaris fucked him through the orgasm until everything felt too much, too raw.
Please, please, begged Archie. Someone was making a desperate, pathetic whine, and he realized it was him as Damaris finally, mercifully, took pity on him.
The shadow slithered out of his ass and Archie shuddered uncontrollably, feeling suddenly bereft.
He slid his mind away from that train of thought; he would not survive another round of that again so soon.
His legs ached from strain, the muscles locked into place until he hooked a hand under his knees and lowered them.
His eyes had blurred over at some point, wet with unshed tears, and he blinked them away muzzily.
He’d spurted, judging by the state of his cock, but he didn’t remember it, lost in the sensation in his ass.
You are too long deprived. A gentle touch, as if stroking Archie’s head. The shadows had coalesced into a shape that almost resembled a body, on the bed next to Archie. For you to be satisfied with such as that.
“I don’t need your pity,” said Archie, somewhat put-upon. His voice was hoarse, from his attempts at screaming.
Not pity. Anticipation. Soon, you will know what true pleasure it and come to crave it. And as your desires grow, so do mine.
Archie could feel it too, the anticipation, the promise, the weight behind those words. He was half-melted into the mattress already, and here Damaris was saying that there could be more than this. He swallowed thickly.
This time, when Damaris fed, Archie understood what was happening more clearly.
He felt the demon gather up the desire from him as if it were a tangible scent that clung to his skin until it was balled up in front of him, and then he inhaled it all in.
It was a curious sensation now that the demon shared his body; Archie could swear he could feel it go down his throat and he swallowed around it as Damaris absorbed it all.
The sense of the demon in his mind retreated, not disappearing but rather curling up at the back of Archie’s consciousness, full and sated. For now.
Archie was able to move again, his fingers flexing as he bade them.
He slid himself off the bed, locking his knees as they threatened to give way, and blushed at the sight of himself, flushed and hair rumpled, in his vanity mirror.
He wiped himself clean with a washcloth before things could get too sticky, ignoring the way his hand trembled.
There was no water in the townhouse, he remembered belatedly, because the hydromancers were working on the plumbing.
He grimaced, folding the cloth so the worst of it was folded in.
He’d have to bring it with him like some sordid evidence of an affair, unless he wanted one of the maids to eventually discover it two weeks later.
“Damaris?” asked Archie finally as he pulled his clothes back on over sweat-damp skin.
Hmm? The demon hummed from inside Archie’s skin.
“Will you always…” Archie trailed, unable to articulate what he was thinking. And yet, Damaris seemed to pluck the meaning from the jumble of half-formed thoughts in his mind.
Outside of feeding on your pleasure, I have no interest in puppeting your puny body.
And this time, Archie caught his thoughts, a flash of disdain at the idea of constantly having to consider where to place this foot and that foot and how to move this hand and that.
Relief coursed through Archie that he hadn’t just blindly given up all control of his body.
He hadn’t thought through his deal, he knew he hadn’t. It’d been foolish, impulsive and, he knew with sudden clarity, manipulated by Damaris playing on his loneliness. And yet, he couldn’t bear to regret it.
And how often do you need to feed? Archie thought the words carefully, testing to see how he could communicate with just thoughts. He’d done it early, but he wasn’t sure if he could think things and Damaris would pluck them out of his mind or if he had to actually think something at Damaris.
As often as you wish. Damaris’s answer was tinged an invitation, a challenge, an assumption.
A vision entered Archie’s mind of being bedded every day. Every day?!
You think too little. I have fed twice on you today already and it is not even noon.
Archie made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. He swayed, the heat rising to his face so quickly he had to sit and press his cheeks against the cool backs of his hands. You’re a tease, demon.
The rapid thump of his heart hammering against his chest wasn’t just embarrassment, but Archie wasn’t quite ready to examine it yet.
He composed himself with deep breaths, brushing his hair back into place, all too aware of Damaris’s presence pressing on the back of his mind, waiting for him to lose control.
The mind-speaking was convenient, but Archie had to get a grip or he would be exposed immediately any time Damaris said something that elicited a reaction from him.
Where did you come from? Why me? asked Archie, trying to change the subject to something more safe.
You invited me in.
“What!” Archie was shocked into interjecting aloud. He lowered his voice quickly, hoping no one was on the floor below. ‘I did not!’
The image of Archie’s silken sachet under his pillow floated into his mind. Archie protested, That’s just a charm to banish bad dreams.
The opposite, it is a charm to attract good dreams. And you had a very good dream.
Archie frowned as he tried to recall what he’d dreamed recently.
Mostly he couldn’t remember his dreams, but there had been one memorable one back when he’d been in the country for the start of harvest. He and Estelle had sat in the rattling carriage on their way to the family estate for hours, her dozing and him staring idly out of the window, watching the farmhands working with their sleeves rolled up or shirts stripped off entirely in the last of the summer heat.
He’d had an odd dream that very night about being a bale of hay which, in hindsight, was probably not really about being a bale of hay, but more the idea of being tossed around by a group of muscular men.
“Ah,” said Archie with very belated realization. Then, “But that means you’ve been here for over two months!”
I had no form, no powers, barely an existence when I crossed into your world. It took me this long feeding on what small emotion I could until I regained my abilities.
“And this whole time, you could hear my thoughts?” Archie tried to remember anything particularly egregious or embarrassing he’d thought in the last two months. There were too many to think of.
You think particularly loudly. Damaris’s tone was somewhat accusatory, as if it was not his fault Archie had fed his thoughts directly to him.
Before Archie could protest that he had no control about how loud his thoughts were, an image appeared in his mind’s eye.
A tower, tall and plain but sturdy. He sat in the center of it, surrounding by stone that stifled all sound that tried to get in, or out.
Much better. Little wonder the human world is so terrified of demon magic when you do not even teach basic shielding.
“That’s it? I just imagine it? And then I when I do wish to speak with you…”
That Archie in his mind’s eye unlatched a window in the tower.
It seemed absurdly simple, but if it meant the demon who shared his body didn’t also share his every thought, he would practice it.
Carefully, he opened the window in his imaginary tower before composing his words to think.
May I make a request? When we are in front of other people, if you could be… discreet please?
I intend to do nothing that would jeopardize my discovery, said Damaris, almost sounding insulted.
Thank you. Archie made sure the window to his tower was shut before he let himself indulge in the fleeting idea of Damaris working his seduction on Archie and Archie losing control in public, leaving him with a sticky shame of pleasure low in his belly.
He didn’t actually want it to happen, but the knowledge that it could…