Demon's Kiss Read Free

Desire roared through her, nearly blinding
her with its intensity.
    Her hands clenched tightly over his muscular forearms. His
hot skin was close against her back, his long, thick cock pressed warmly
against her bottom like a brand.
    A different kind of heat burned between her thighs. Her
pussy ached. Her breasts swelled against and into his big hands, filled them.
She arched to give him more of them as her pussy pulsed and creamed. Her thighs
were wet. She quivered and moaned with the need of his touch. Almost as if in
answer to that desire, an agile, long-fingered hand slid over her mound, over
her throbbing clit to stroke. She trembled and sighed.
    Desire flared, warred with pure lust and then his finger
dipped inside her.
     
    Asmodeus groaned to find her so damp, so tight and so ready
for him.
    His hunger burned. He would feed. He must or, as long as she
was penned with him and with the goad of his captors’ geas —that magical
compulsion on him—sooner or later he would ravage her like a starving wolf,
whatever his intentions.
    She would find her pleasure when he took her, whether he
willed it or not. It was his nature and a gift of the venom but he would give
her more than that. He must, for his own sake. For his own soul.
    Dipping his finger into the rich moisture between her legs,
Asmodeus slid it up over the little pearl of her clit to lubricate it and
caressed it gently. She trembled and he smiled as he nuzzled her throat,
breathed her scent, the marvelous fragrance of her skin, the musk of her
arousal. It surrounded him. The intoxicating aroma of her desire fed his
hunger, stoked his need.
    The light, salty taste of her skin was marvelous, wonderful.
Asmodeus savored it as his tongue fluttered over her. The sensation of her
pulse hammering against his mouth, against his flicking tongue, was heady,
exciting. Asmodeus hungered for her, craved her. He had to taste more of her.
    Sweeping her up in his arms, he deposited her on the cot,
such as it was. The only furniture allowed to him, it was made of iron and
bolted securely to the floor so he couldn’t use it as a weapon. His breath came
hard and fast.
    For a moment though, he could only stand and admire the
beauty of her.
    Her lustrous silver hair splayed across the pillows, framed
her youthful face and streamed in lush waves across the thin mattress. Her
features were fine, save for a bump in her nose where it probably had been
broken once. That small flaw gave her face a little more character, as if her
strong jaw, firm mouth and the fine arch of her brows above those lovely clear,
sky-blue eyes did not give her enough.
    They would be like fire and ice when they lay together, he
and she.
    Beautiful.
    He wished he could see it.
    Lightly, he ran a finger over the curve of her cheek, her
skin so soft to his touch.
    His body tightened even further in response.
    He stretched out beside her on the bed and looked at her, at
all her lovely, lush curves. Unable to resist, he caressed her firm breasts,
ran his hand over her toned belly. He sifted his fingers through the triangle
of dark, silver-tinted curls between her thighs. As white as the finest ivory,
her skin glowed beneath the harsh lights.
    As hungry as he was, he feasted his eyes first, just tasting
one breast with a flick of his tongue.
    In wonder, Asmodeus touched her cheek again, as her eyelids
fluttered and she reached a hand up to touch his face. He slowly lowered his
mouth to hers.
    He drowned himself in that kiss, in her soft lips, in the
taste of her, the movement of her mouth beneath his. When she nibbled lightly
at his lower lip, his body tightened in response. He breathed her in even as he
tasted her, so fresh, so clean, so pure.
    Curling an arm beneath her shoulders, he drew her closer and
lifted his head to look down at her in wonder. Asmodeus tasted her on his lips,
his tongue flicking over them as he shook his head. Amazing.
     
    The sight of him savoring the taste of her sent another bolt
of heat