Chapter 4
Simone
A hard ridge presses into my back, and I realize I’m pressed into the kitchen counter, hand over my open mouth.
Blood rushes in and out of my ears, blocking sound.
Dizziness washes over me, and I find myself sliding to the floor, but this is almost worse, because now he is towering over me despite still kneeling before me.
Through it all, I'm locked onto his hazel eyes, the only thing about him that hasn’t transformed, and they are pleading with me.
Missy is lounging on the back of the couch, her head resting calmly on her paws as she watches him transform, as though she has seen him this many, many times. Tito takes his cue from her and is politely tilting his head back and forth.
“Simone.” He chokes out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to ever see me this way. I couldn’t help it.” His eyes stray to my neck and then to my chest, which is heaving with rapid breaths. He drops his head, and I hear him say fuck under his breath.
“What? Tell me.” The words escape before I can stop myself.
I can see it in his eyes, but I want to hear it.
He wants me. Am I so desirable that I forced him to shift?
Are my breasts so mesmerizing that he is helpless before me?
I need to hear it. Let’s face it, no one has looked at me link this in a long time.
I’m not going to count the years, but let’s say double digits may or may not be involved.
“I should not be looking at you this way, thinking about you this way.” He leans back on his heels, scrubbing a hand over his face, and now it's my turn to gasp.
Holy fuck. The bulbous, inky black head mushrooms into a wide flare, before fading into deeper crimson. Studded along its impressive length are burgundy ridges and bumps. Hanging low between his rock-solid thighs is his sac, swinging heavily as his arms move back to his side.
It’s hard. A drop of pearlescent come glistening at its tip. Universe, forgive me, I want that in my mouth. Did I just think that? I did. It’s a hard, demon cock, and my vagina is begging for it.
“Are you hard for me?” It’s a thought that is whispered before I realize I uttered the words out loud, and the immediate flash of shame I feel is hot against my cheeks.
“Yes.” The guttural growl rumbles inside me, consuming me. His cock twitches.
“Why?” A genuine question. I cannot fathom a world where someone wants me this bad.
Dravik slinks low to the floor, crawling toward me like a snake. “Please.” He begs.
That one word unlocks something inside me, and my voice doesn’t sound like my own as I purr out, “Please, what?” The man, no demon, is begging me.
No one has ever begged me for anything before.
Told me, asserted their power over me, made me feel less than, or made me have to work harder. Begging? Never happened.
He’s spread out on the floor in front of me, face millimeters from my foot, his wings unfurled in such a way that my brain is struggling to grasp just how wide his wingspan is.
A tongue so black it's midnight blue darts from between his lips, and it's forked and thick. We lock eyes, and I can tell that he is thinking what I am thinking, that I’m sprawled out on the floor of this rental cabin, about to let this demon touch me in a way that no one probably has before.
“Simone, I want to taste you, I want to please you.” His black tipped fingers have reached my ankle, curling around it, the blunt claws brushing my skin.
Goosepimples explode over my skin. What the hell, when in Rome.
A tiny nod from me is all he needs before I’m yanked across the floor, pajamas torn from my body like tissue paper.
He spreads my legs wide before him, like he’s about to feast, and then a lick, tentative at first, before he’s pushing it into me and I’m finding out that demons have long tongues.
“Holy fuck.” The words burst from me before I can process what is happening, sensations assault my senses, my back arching along the cold, hard floor.
Unthinking, I grasp his horns and grind into his face, only to be greeted by muffled noises of pleasure coming from him.
His tongue flutters along my channel, teasing and sensing before finding a spot that only a handful of men have ever found.
It’s as though he’s waited centuries for this.
My brain short-circuits as he alternates between sucking my clit and tonguing that spot deep inside me.
“Yes, Dravik, yes, don’t stop!” I cry out.
A growl of approval meets my ears, and before I know what’s happening, he hauls me up.
At first, I think maybe he wants to slide his delicious cock inside me, which makes me hesitate, but only just. But, then he’s lying down underneath me, sliding my body towards his head and tucking my legs around his shoulders, seating me over his mouth and pushing me down.
I’m sitting on his face! I have never done this before, and my first instinct is to hold my weight up to prevent me from smothering him.
“Can you breathe?” I protest.
A frustrated whine vibrates against my pussy, and his wings lift, buffeting me lower until his tongue is fully seated inside me.
Instinct takes over, and I start to rock back and forth, feeling my rhythm before I’m out and out just grinding on his face.
My eyes are squeezed shut, not daring to look at what is happening, only drinking in the sensations.
I reach out blindly for support and instantly feel his wings under my hands.
I’m momentarily distracted by their velvety touch, before the familiar tight feeling starts in my lower belly, curving up my spine and spiking outward towards my limbs.
I come so hard I’m screaming, pushing myself into his face to the point I’m sure I broke his nose or his tongue or both.
But I don’t care. I don’t care about anything right now except the wonderful release of pressure, and the liquid afterglow that seeps through my body like syrup, relaxing me to the point that I feel myself sliding sideways.
His wings and strong hands catch me around my waist, enveloping me so that I lie sideways, my head tucked into his chest. Blearily, I look up to see that his impossibly long forked tongue is licking me off his mouth, and his own eyes are closed in bliss.
And then reality hits me like I’ve been doused in icy water, twisting my insides.
I want to get up and go into the other room and process what just happened.
There is a dark red demon splayed out on my floor who just tongue fucked the shit out of me and made me come harder than any man ever has, who says he wants me, who can’t even control his shifting around me, and I want to run.
I decide to lie here for a few more minutes before I get up and get dressed. I’ll just thank him for coming over, and that’ll be that. Right? Right. He probably does this all the time, is probably a hundred years old, and fucks humans all over town. Nothing to see here.
Tito breaks the ice first, jumping down from the couch to crawl over us to try and lick my face like the goof that he is.
“Sorry, he gets grumpy if I don’t go to bed on time,” I say, turning away from Dravik, untangling myself from his wings and his warm embrace, feeling like an asshole.
Dravik’s face says it all. I can tell he wants to keep lying here with me, but he glances at the clock, nodding.
“Of course. It’s getting late, I should go.” He looks at the tools, now tossed all over the floor. “Do you want me to finish this up?”
“Nope, no, that’s okay. You got the panel open and the old part out. I got it from here.” My long cardigan is wrapped around me now, shielding my body from his eyes. I hover awkwardly between the kitchen and the door, unsure of how to proceed.
“Right.” He pauses. Then he reaches for my hand. “I'd like to see you again sometime. If you want.”
He’s so hopeful, eyes lingering on my face, fingers tracing circles along the back of my hand. He’s also impossibly tall. The top of my bun barely comes up to his chiseled pecs.
“Oh, um,” I pause. Too long I pause, and the air shifts between us. He straightens up, mouth in a tight line, crease between his brows making him look downright terrifying. I want to back away, but force myself to stand my ground.
He holds up his hands. “It’s okay. Really. I get it. It was nice meeting you, Simone.” He glances down to where Tito is sitting between us, reaching down to scritch briefly behind his ears. “And you too, Tito.”
Tito’s tongue flops out, giving Dravik a huge smile. Traitor.
And then we’re alone. He didn’t even shift before he left.
“Shit,” I mutter to myself. I can’t help feeling like I fucked something up.