Interlude 3
Being neither fish nor fowl had its advantages, among them that Ligat could enter the physical world much more readily than true demons like Perthrux.
He could stay near it as well, observing from the edges, but eventually he had to refresh himself in the deeper parts of the ethereal and a slumber that he remembered much less than mortals recalled their dreams.
He knew he’d dreamed of the medium.
Coherent details evaded him, but he remembered the silky feeling of her hair beneath his fingers and the warmth of her breast under his palm.
He knew that she’d been helpless, and that she hadn’t been afraid, and he woke with the most demanding erection he’d experienced since his now-alien adolescence.
While ethereal beings could be as carnal as those on other planes, Ligat’s service had generally not been conductive to lust. He’d observed other attractive mortals, sometimes even reacted to them, but none of them had stuck in his head and certainly none had surfaced in his dreams. Wrapping a hand around his cock, he considered this new development.
Objectively, it was unfortunate. He didn’t need the distraction. Attachment would be futile at best and dangerous at worst. If he’d been giving advice, Ligat would have told himself to try to put Hazel Lewis out of his head.
Even as he thought, he was sliding his hand up his rigid shaft, picturing the medium’s face as he thrust up into his own grip.
After all, he’d probably have to keep standing watch. It was only fair that he find a way to enjoy the task. If that meant closing his eyes and hearing her ragged breathing again as his climax built, that surely wasn’t unreasonable.
Repression only increased desire. The forbidden had a much greater lure than the permitted.
So Ligat called Hazel to mind while he stroked himself, imagining that slight, quick frame beneath him and her eyes widening again as he slid inside her, this time in pleasure rather than fear.
That image brought him to the peak, a series of hard spasms that blotted out coherent thought and forced a shout from his lips as he spilled across his stomach.
For the first time since he’d been a mortal, Ligat wasn’t entirely sure what he’d gotten himself into. He found that he rather liked the idea.