Last Minion Standing

Chapter 10

The cab ridehome didn’t take long, so as a result, I still simmered—and sizzled—my irritation equal to my arousal. And it was all HIS fault.

I didn’t understand him. One moment he blew hot. Hot enough I wanted to blow him. The next, he sent me off, panties wet, lips swollen, and ready to scream.

It had to be a plot, one designed to drive me insane. There was only one solution.

Ride him like a cowgirl.

No!

Kill him.

Possibly. But I was thinking more along the lines it was time I avoided Mr. Too-Hot-And-Sexy. Reject me once, he was playing hard to get. Reject me twice, and that was it. Time to find myself another object of lust.

The ride, though, was just long enough for me to make this decision, yet for some reason, I wasn’t happy with it. Thus, I entered the apartment with a scowl.

As usual, Jezzie ignored my foul mood with a chirpy, “About time you got home.” Apparently, someone had gotten into the sugar again because Jezzie bounced on the couch like a bunny on chocolate crack at Easter. She held the remote in one hand and pointed excitedly at the television screen.

Who cared what was on the news? I was more interested in the bag of chips on the table—regular rippled with a container of herb and garlic dip beside it. I consoled myself with lots of double dipping before I could finally focus on Jezzie, who stopped jumping and regarded me with a hand on her hip.

“Bad night?”

“Don’t ask,” I mumbled through a mouthful of chips.

“I don’t need to ask, and you don’t need to tell because I saw it all,” she said with a wide smirk. She stepped aside and played the paused show in progress—you had to love DVR. It wasn’t just any show on the screen. It was my reality show, featuring yours truly.

“Holy fuck.” Like an idiot, I’d completely forgotten about the cameras following me, and they hadn’t missed a thing from my hot dancing with Drake to our impromptu makeout session—I really liked the part where he ripped my panties off—to the foiled demon attack. It ended with the cab speeding away, but with a scene I hadn’t seen—Drake cursing then turning to hit the brick wall behind him with a closed fist.

If he didn’t want me to go, then why didn’t he come with me?What suddenly had become more important than pleasuring my pussy and, in the doing, himself?

I would have liked to ponder it further, but an exuberant Jezzie wanted to know all the pertinent details.

“Is he a good kisser?”

“The best.” I sighed. Suddenly, though, I found myself tired. I didn’t want to think about what I’d almost experienced. For the first time in my life, my emotions were a muddled mess, and I didn’t like it one bit. Something about Drake drew me like no other man ever before. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and wanting him. It made no sense. I’d desired guys before, and no, I hadn’t slept with all of them. I never used to have a problem walking away. But it was different with Drake. Why?

Sexual frustration. That had to be the answer. I refused to contemplate anything else. And it definitely wasn’t the dreaded L word.

Ugh. Never. Love was for pussies. Love was for other people who didn’t mind weakness. I wasn’t weak.

A good shag was all I needed. Once I’d fucked him, say a dozen times or so, these weird feelings would disappear. I hoped.

The next day, I found myself back in the coliseum with a screaming crowd. Standing in the wings dressed in a strapless black bathing suit with painted flames licking up under my boobs from my crotch and black come-fuck-me boots—a totally bitching outfit—I peeked around the curtain and spotted signs in the stands. I leaned over to question Jezzie about them.

“Superhero names,” she stated. “We’ve got it down to about a dozen now, and the voting has started.”

“What are the top three so far?”

Feet shuffled nervously, and Jezzie preferred to stare at them instead of me. “Nothing’s concrete yet,” she said, hedging.

“Tell me.” I crossed my arms and tapped my foot.

Jezzie sighed. “Just don’t hurt me, okay? I didn’t choose them. They’re audience voted.”

“You’re stalling.”

“One is Hell’s Babe.”

Not bad, kind of sexy actually.

“Bitch Slap.”

Not too bad still, even if it made me sound more like trailer trash.

“Soul Slut.”

“What?” I screeched, and she winced.

“Don’t worry too much about that one. It’s in third.”

“It shouldn’t have even made the list,” I grumbled. I would have liked to argue about it more, but it was time for me to go stand in the spotlight as round two in the minion selection process began.

Seated on my throne, I listened to the announcer as he detailed the next task.

“A sidekick requires cunning. The ability to retrieve information and objects with none the wiser. Who of these five remaining contestants has what it takes to move on to the next round?”

Who indeed, I thought, tapping my fingernails impatiently on the armrest. The curtain hung in front of me, a heavy fabric shield that prevented me from seeing Drake, the jerk who’d left me hot and yearning the night before.

No more.

I’d spent too much time since last night thinking of him. Even though we’d met only two days ago, I was tired of him making me hot and heavy and not following through. Turn my legs to mush and not finish me off? Never again. I’d had it with him. Right after today’s episode, I was going on a male hunt. I didn’t care who I fucked at this point. I just needed someone with a dick who knew what to do with a horny woman. Drake wasn’t the only guy who could turn my libido on. And I would prove to myself he was just another guy, nothing special about him.

I suddenly tuned back into what the announcer said. “The task was simple. Bring back an item without her realizing you’d taken it. A personal item that was recently in contact with her oh-so-luscious self.”

Wait a second. Are they talking about me? Like fuck would I be giving anybody anything that dangerous. Items of a personal nature could be used in nefarious spells, something I liked to avoid. The curtain rose while I still wore a scowl from this latest turns of events.

I quickly smoothed my face into a smile, but inside, I seethed.

My five contestants stood in a row before me on a mini stage in the center of the coliseum. My eyes focused on one man only, though, and I found him watching me back just as intently. He raised a brow and gave me a sensual smile that sent a gushing heat to my pussy. Ugh. The jerk with his super-panty-creaming smile. I really needed to get laid.

My nails kept tapping as the announcer did his thing in his deep voice.

“First up, Dretnor. This savage demon comes from the outer rings and is the seventh son of a seventh son. He likes walks on the beach, a good grog of ale, and eviscerating his enemy. Tell us, Dretnor, what item from our lady Sally did you acquire?”

The tall demon bared his teeth in a toothy smile and strutted forward, holding forth a lock of hair.

It couldn’t be mine. I would never give away a single tress.

The large, four-sided video screen hanging above the stadium lit up, and a video of me in the club the previous night dancing appeared. I watched as the demon in human guise cozied up to my backside and managed to snip off some hair unbeknownst to me as I gyrated, eyes closed.

The bastard had cut my hair. I seethed on the throne as I plotted his demise.

The crowd clapped, and I made a mental vow, after I’d ripped his intestines from his body, to always have my hair tied up tight when I went out partying in the future. The clip on the screen kept playing after Dretnor’s impromptu trim, and the audience tittered when Drake appeared behind his boogying body and removed him, none too gently, to take his place.

I bit back a smile and quashed the warmth spreading through me. So what if Drake had shown jealousy? It changed nothing. He needed to learn he couldn’t jerk me around. Maybe to irritate Drake, I’d shag Dretnor.

The emcee spoke. “Dretnor moves on. Next up, Allsor. This overgrown reptile hails from the wild swamps outside the ninth circle. In his spare time, he likes to bowl with skulls, play the banjo, and deep-fried, battered hellfrogs. Show us, Allsor, what you retrieved.”

The lizard dude strutted forward and held out an envelope. The video screen lit up and showed him breaking into my postal box and stealing the piece of mail.

What a cop-out. I wasn’t the only one to think so.

The crowd booed, and the announcer came back on. “We said something personal, pea brain. While the mail was addressed to her, she never touched your item. You have…failed!”

At his words, the folks in the stands cheered and then screamed in delight as a trap door suddenly appeared beneath lizard man’s feet. With a gargling noise of surprise, down he went, disappearing from sight. I wondered if he’d be landing in the traditional alligator pit and thought it a pity they didn’t show us. I’d have liked to have seen the outcome of that match.

Up next, the dwarf Raxnor, who had gone dumpster diving and found an apple core I’d discarded. Gross, but it fit the bill of the task.

Second last was the wolfman, named a boring Pete. He’d used his agility to sneak into my apartment and steal some eye shadow. Only one problem, it was Jezzie’s, not mine. Like I would be caught dead wearing that shade of blue with my coloring, the idiot. Bye-bye, wolfman. Then it was the turn of the last contestant, the one who refused to get out of my mind: Drake.

I almost held my breath when he came forward, and my hands clutched at the armrests of the chair wetly. Surely I wasn’t nervous for him? I wanted nothing to do with him and, by extension, didn’t want him to win. Right?

With a cocky smile aimed right at me, even if my crotch bore the brunt, he whipped a scrap of fabric out of his pocket. I swear it was only the fact that cameras watched my every move and the approving roar of the crowd that kept me from diving on him and tearing the smile off his face. For dangling from his fingertips were the panties he’d ripped off me the night before.

I didn’t remember the rest of the show—a foggy rage clouded my mind—but as soon as the curtain came down, I stalked off, grumbling darkly.

It took a bit of lube and some help from the backstage staff to peel the skintight bathing suit from me, and then more staff to help me yank on even tighter pants. I opted to wear a bra under my shirt—a shirt that wasn’t even see-through. Gasp. I know, so conservative of me considering most of my outfits were designed to make me look like a high priced hooker. Those ladies of the night knew how to turn heads and get paid for it.

As I prepared to open a portal to head back to my place, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind. Instinct kicked in, and my foot slammed down on my accoster’s instep while, in the same motion, I jabbed back hard with my elbow.

I heard a grunt then a familiar voice whispered, “Is this foreplay?”

Drake. I should have known. “Let me go,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

He didn’t quite obey, loosening his arms only enough for me to turn in them to face him. When we were eye to eye, he tightened his arms again, pressing me against his hard length. I tried not to let the evidence of his happiness to see me, throbbing against my lower tummy, distract me. It didn’t stop me from creaming myself, though.

He inhaled and smiled. “Your body seems happy to see me, but your face is saying a different thing.”

“You asshole. I can’t believe you made out with me just so you could steal my panties and move on to the next round.”

He laughed, a throaty sound, which sent shivers down my spine. “Actually, I already had an item, an earring from our first encounter. What happened last night was because I want you, baby.”

“Yeah, like I believe that after the way you left me hanging.” I barely controlled my lips from curling into a pout, but my words still sounded petulant.

“It wasn’t because I wanted to.”

“Didn’t look that way to me.”

“I had urgent business to attend to.”

In my world, nothing was more important than my needs. “Well, I have urgent business to attend to myself tonight, so if you don’t mind...” I arched a brow and waited for him to let go of me.

He didn’t, of course. Instead, he brushed his lips across mine, a move that made my breath hitch.

“I’m all yours tonight,” he whispered. “Let me make it up to you.”

“No, you had your chance.” My mouth said one thing, but my body melting against him said another. Annoyed at my unwilling chemical reaction to his closeness, I decided to put a stop to his wooing attempt. “I’ve already got plans to meet...” My mind worked furiously. “Dretnor. Yeah, demon boy really turned me on, too, last night, and I know he won’t let me down.”

Drake’s eyes darkened, and his brows drew together in fury. I wondered if I was about to meet his beast—what fun.

Through clenched teeth, he growled, “You will not meet with that slug. If you have needs, I will take care of them. Know, right now, I will not allow another to touch you.”

Talk about fucking possessive. My independent side cackled and prepared snide comebacks at his manly claim over my body. My feminine side just went incoherent with arousal. “We’re not a couple. I’ll see whoever I damned well please.”

“Then I will kill them,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Even my feminist side shut up at those words. Totally fucking hot—like caveman, retro hot.

“I don’t get you,” I grumbled. “Is this about winning? Do you think if you fuck me, you’ll get an edge? I don’t cheat,” I stated—much. “Besides, anyone can tell you’re not sidekick material. Why are you trying so hard?”

His face turned serious, and his eyes glowed as he replied. “Now that I’ve met you, I don’t intend to let any other male come near you, sidekick or not. So if I need to win this competition to ensure you’re one hundred percent mine, then I will do what I have to so I can win and have you to myself.”

Hot damn. As speeches went, his was a definite panty dropper and shocker. It also smashed through my remaining resistance. “You’d do anything?” I whispered, leaning into him, mesmerized not only by the smoky look in his eyes but also his possessive words.

“Hell yeah, baby. Like I said, I’ll kill if I have to. I don’t share with others.” With his spine-tingling declaration, my legs turned to Jell-O as he leaned down to kiss me.

This time, I wasn’t letting him escape. Breaking off the embrace for just a moment, I opened a portal back to my bedroom and toppled us into it to land on my fluffy mattress.

He chuckled underneath me. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

“I’m tired of waiting,” I grumbled, my hands tearing at his shirt. I found it offensive. In a blink of an eye, he flipped us so I lay on the bottom and he straddled my waist. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, he pulled it off, revealing his perfect chest with his ripples of mouth-watering muscles. I reached up to touch his smooth skin, dragging my nails lightly down from his pecs to the waistband of his jeans.

He sucked in a breath, and I looked up at him. Glowing eyes met mine. “Your turn,” he said huskily, and a moment later, I found both my shirt and bra removed and tossed to the side.

My nipples puckered under his scorching gaze. Slowly, he lowered his face and brushed it across my erect nubs. I sighed and arched, willing him to suck them. The hot flick of his tongue, circling around, forced a moan from me. I weaved my fingers through his hair and tried to force his mouth to take my engorged nipple into his mouth. He chuckled, his warm breath making them tighten even more.

“Oh no, baby. It seems like I’ve waited an eternity to touch you, and I intend to savor every moment.” Suddenly, I found my hands removed from his hair, caught in an iron grip, and pushed above my head. I struggled to free my hands, but he held me firmly and continued his lazy exploration of my breasts.

My whole body thrummed like a live wire, anticipation stringing me taut. When he finally took my nipple into his mouth, I cried out and arched. It seemed as if he tortured me forever, his wet mouth sucking and pulling at my erect aureoles. He lavished attention equally between them, driving me senseless. Eventually, I gave up begging him to move lower, too lost in the erotic sensations he invoked. Besides, even though we were both clothed below the waist, it didn’t stop him from settling between my legs and grinding his erection against my sex. My legs wrapped around his waist, cinching him tight.

When he finally stopped his torturous onslaught, my pussy had migrated past the point of wetness into flood territory. I ached for him and whimpered when his welcome weight left mine. I opened heavy eyelids to see him stripping down, and I also answered a few of my own questions. No, he didn’t wear underwear, and hot damn, he was huge. Jutting proudly from his body, his cock bobbed at my perusal, and a glistening drop appeared. I licked my lips and went to sit up so I could lean forward and touch him. He pushed me back.

“Stay where you are.” Under my hungry, disbelieving eyes, he gave me a wicked smile and grabbed his prick, his thumb smoothing his clear liquid over the swollen head. I almost came it was that fucking hot.

As if Drake sensed my rapidly dwindling control, his deft hands removed my skintight pants, and he grinned appreciatively when he pulled down my soaking panties.

He ran a finger down my moist cleft, and I shuddered. “Hands above your head holding the headboard,” he ordered.

“What if I don’t want to?” He was killing me slowly with pleasurable anticipation, and I needed to hurry things along so I didn’t die before the main event. I spread my legs wide and bent my knees, exposing my Brazilian shave to him. There wasn’t a male alive who could resist a shaved pussy, especially when I reached down to touch it. I stroked my finger over my velvety folds, wetting them, and then I drew my digit back to my mouth and licked it.

Eyes glowing, Drake crawled between my legs, intent and dangerous. My breath hitched. Face hovering over my sex, he blew on me hotly, and I gasped. “If you want me to devour that gorgeous pussy of yours, then grab that headboard and do not let go.”

Fast as lightning, I grabbed the slatted wood. I still didn’t understand why, when he ordered, I listened and, even more baffling, why it ramped up my desire.

His wide hands cupped my bottom and lifted me just enough to align my sex with his mouth. Thank Satan’s horns, he didn’t make me wait or beg. He instantly latched his mouth onto my sex, and at the first wet stroke of his tongue, I moaned. Then, like he’d done already with my poor nipples, he tortured me orally. He started with small flicks of his tongue against my clit, followed by his tongue probing between my lips. Then back to my clit, where he’d pinch it with his lips. Oh, the sweet fucking bliss. My fingers clutching the headboard were white-knuckled, and though I tried to arch, his hands held me firmly. I whimpered with need.

“Please.”

He responded by letting go of my ass cheeks, but only so he could throw a heavy arm across my lower tummy while he used his other hand to stroke my slick folds. One finger penetrated me. Long and seeking, it found my G-spot and pressed on it. I let out a cry, and my body went taut.

“Don’t you come yet, baby,” he said in a gravelly voice. I opened my eyes to gaze down at him blearily. “I’m not done with you.”

Then he inserted a second and third finger. He could order me all he wanted, but when his tongue rapidly flicked my clit while his fingers pumped in and out of me, hitting and stroking my G-spot each time, it was a lost cause. My channel tightened almost painfully before spasming in orgasm. And still he finger fucked and licked me.

I keened, my pussy contracting hard, wave after wave of ecstasy roaring through my body. Just when I thought I’d black out from pleasure, he finally stopped his torture.

Lucky me, he wasn’t done yet. The swollen head of his cock rubbed against my moist core, teasing me. I whimpered. It felt as if I hadn’t just cum most wondrously. I wanted him so badly. I needed him inside me, pounding. I went to let go of the headboard to clutch him, but as if he read my mind, he growled.

“Don’t you dare.”

Another time, I’d find out what would happen if I disobeyed, but right at that moment, I didn’t want to do anything that would stop me from savoring the delicious length of his cock, a treat he fed slowly into my aching sex.

I clenched the walls of my channel tightly around him, gratified to hear him grunt. It seemed to take forever before he’d seated himself fully in me, and once sheathed, he paused.

“Are you okay?”

I opened my eyes in disbelief, wondering if he was joking. But when I looked at him, he was quite serious, and I wondered if his cock size had caused him problems in the past. He certainly was well endowed, and it would explain his zealousness in prepping me. However, I really enjoyed the way he stretched me.

“The only way I won’t be okay is if you don’t stop pussyfooting and start fucking me.”

Order or not, my hands came off the headboard and grabbed his ass just as I tilted my hips up. This had the effect of pushing him in a little deeper, fantastically so. And just to make sure he truly understood how much I liked the feel of him inside me, I squeezed him tightly with my sex and wrapped my legs around his waist, locking him in.

I almost made his eyes roll back in his head, and he got the point. His pelvis began to move, sliding his shaft in and out, his tempo increasing in pace with my cries. Yet, I still felt he was holding back.

“Harder,” I panted.

He obliged, pistoning into me forcefully, his rapid-fire strokes building my pleasure. I tightened my hold on him, my breath whooshing in and out as I met him thrust for thrust. He grunted, and sweat beaded on his brow.

“Harder.”

He didn’t reply, but his jabs got more forceful. I no longer had the breath to speak or even moan, but our lovemaking was anything but quiet. I would almost dare say it was musical, a primal rhythm comprised of heavy breathing and the satisfying slap of flesh on flesh. As we moved together in time to the beat we created, my rapture built one pleasure block at a time until, like an unsteady tower, one little push sent it over. I found my voice again and screamed as I orgasmed once more, wave after wave of bliss quivering through me and leaving me shaking. Above me, Drake went still, and I opened my eyes to see him staring at me, his eyes completely black and glowing.

“Mine,” he growled, and then he spurted inside me hotly.

Thank Satan’s scientists for inventing the birth control pill. Between that and the fact that demons, even half ones, didn’t get diseases, it made sex so much better without an icky layer of latex to ruin the moment.

Drake collapsed on me heavily, and I wondered when they autopsied me if they’d at least be able to tell I died happy. But a moment later, clutching me, he rolled until he lay on his back with me on top of him.

I looked down at him and grinned. “Thanks.”

“Glad to oblige,” he replied dryly.

The fire in my body temporarily extinguished, I found myself tongue-tied, an unusual state for me. Drake, thankfully, filled in the silence.

“What’s your favorite color?”

I frowned at him. “We have amazing sex and you ask me something stupid like that?”

“I know you enjoyed yourself. You know I enjoyed myself. Now I want to know more about the woman I’m going to fuck all night long.”

Funny how, with those mere words, I could feel my pussy clench with an aftershock of pleasure. “Orange.”

He snorted. “Seriously? I took you more for a pink kind of girl.”

What could I say? I was full of surprises. “Let me guess, yours is black.”

A mischievous smile tilted his lips. “Actually, it’s pink.” He punctuated his surprising remark by sliding the hand he had resting on my ass between my legs to rub against my sex. “This exact shade,” he added as he tweaked my plump lips.

Ooh, I was definitely liking this conversation more and more.

His lips caught mine in a searing kiss, and he nibbled for a while before asking his next question. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“The one we just made, baby,” I replied, snickering when he pulled back with a wide-eyed look.

“You taped us?”

“No.” I sighed regretfully. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not playing in my head.”

He grinned widely, and I noticed the faint indent of a dimple in his cheek. He was so goddamned cute. And horny.

Lying on top of him, I couldn’t miss the poking of his shaft as it rose and bumped against my backside. I loved that he had the stamina to match my libido because I was raring to go again. He’d teased me too many times for me to be satisfied with one quick bout.

But first, a little torture. I wiggled my ass against his jutting prick, but when he went to grab my hips, I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Hands over your head.”

With a smoky look that promised retribution—I couldn’t wait—he laced his hands under his head. I then set out to explore the massive expanse of skin and muscle at my disposal.

My hands traced the powerful lines of his shoulders and arms. Even without his shifter blood, his physique would have ensured his strength. I couldn’t wait to engage him in a wrestling match later. But for now, I was on an exploratory mission. I ran my hands lightly over his chest, stroking his flat nipples. A shiver went through him, and I arched a brow. Someone had a sensitive spot. Perfect, I’d found the first area of his body to exploit.

I leaned forward and blew on his nipple, already tight; nevertheless, it puckered further, and again, I felt a tremor. Gently, I took his nub between my teeth and applied pressure. He bucked, and a hand came loose to grasp my hair.

I looked up and met his darkening eyes, my lips curving mischievously. “Bad boy. Put that hand back.”

His face taut and his eyes now glowing, he obeyed, but I could tell it killed him to listen—but hot damn, it made me horny. His cock jerked around behind me, especially when I leaned down and bit him again. But this time, though he shook and groaned, he let me have my way, and I tortured him. Unlike him, though, I couldn’t keep it up for long because my own desire roared through my body, demanding satisfaction.

I pushed up from his chest and straddled him. “Tell me what you want,” I said huskily.

“Ride me, baby.”

My sex moistened, and I lifted myself until the tip of his cock nudged my cleft.

“That’s it,” he coaxed. “Sit that pretty pussy of yours onto my cock and fuck me, baby. I want to watch you come on my cock.”

With a moan, I sat down hard, impaling myself. I’d forgotten how endowed he was, and I cried out as he filled me in a rush, the swollen head of his cock banging inside me so deeply I swooned for a second. I rocked back and forth on him lightly for a moment, adjusting myself to his girth, and then I got down to business. I braced my hands on his chest and rode him.

Some girls, when they ride a man astride, like to lift themselves up and down. Personally, I think that’s a lot of work and does more for the guy. Me, I preferred to slide back and forth across his groin, his cock never actually leaving my channel, but pushing deep. Even better was the friction this placed on my clit. My nails dug into his chest as I moved back and forth, the direct and intense stimulation bringing me quickly to the brink and completely distracting.

I mewled.

“Want some help?” he growled.

I opened my eyes and had trouble focusing on him. Instead of answering, I just nodded. In a millisecond, he’d grabbed my hips and taken over for me, sliding me to and fro, sending my already throbbing clit into overdrive. My sex clenched at his cock tightly in a pre-orgasmic tightening.

“Fuck,” he said with a groan, and then his cock pulsed inside me as he came. Like a signal, my channel contracted, and I collapsed on his chest as, once again, ecstasy rippled through my body in a never-ending wave that left me limp.

I felt his arms wrap around me, possessively, and his lips brushed the top of my head.

Then I did something I’d never done with any of my sexual partners. I fell asleep in his arms.