Page 5 of Demon Unleashed

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Enya took a deep breath to inhale Eric’s male scent. She had always been able to sense when a man desired her, and this man was no different. Only a few inches separated them, but she could feel his body heat, his need, his arousal. She pushed the jacket over his shoulders, and he helped her and freed himself from it. When he reached for her jacket to help her out of it, she let him, but when he tried the same with her bustier, she pushed him back. Instead, she was already unbuttoning his shirt.

“Take it off,” she demanded, and he undid the remaining buttons.

While he slipped out of it, she reached for his belt, unhooked it. His chest bare now and dusted with dark hair, Eric brought his hands to the hooks of her bustier. He managed to open the top two before she stopped him. She had rules for one-night stands, rules she adhered to. She never undressed fully, never let her guard down. No man would make her lie on her back and spread her legs, put her at his mercy. What she needed was a quick, hard fuck, and the kitchen island at her back would be perfect. Beds were dangerous places where people let their guard down, where they got soft, where they started trusting others. Where they confessed secrets, secrets that could never be revealed.

“No,” she said, gripping his hands and putting them down next to his sides. Then she unzipped his pants and shoved them down.

Stunned, he stared at her. “I wanna touch your breasts.” His words were close to a growl, the sound making her shiver. A moment later, he was tugging at her bustier and managed to pull it down sufficiently so her breasts popped over the top.

“Fuck!” she hissed. She was too self-conscious about her breasts. They were too small, which was the reason why she wore a bustier: to make them appear larger. But now that Eric had freed them, she felt exposed, naked. Vulnerable.

“Gorgeous,” Eric murmured, and dipped his head to her bosom. Before she could stop him, he’d already captured one nipple and was sucking on it, while he massaged both breasts with his palms. He let one nipple pop from his mouth, then blew a cool breath against it. She shivered at the tantalizing sensation. “Perfect.” He moaned, then put his lips around the other nipple and drew it into his mouth.

“Oh God!” She couldn’t allow this to continue. If he sucked her breasts like this, she would lose control. She had to be in charge. He was supposed to lose control.

Determined not to succumb to his ministrations, she gripped the seam of his boxer briefs and pulled them down to mid-thigh. A second later, she reached for his cock and wrapped her hand around it. He was big, his girth too much for one hand to handle, his length impressive. She took him in both hands and slid them from tip to root.

Eric groaned and his head shot up. A ragged breath exploded from his lips. “Fuck, Enya!”

Seeing that he was suddenly losing control, she smiled. “Yeah, I think that’s the point. To fuck.” She let go of his cock and pushed her leather skirt higher then reached underneath to free herself from her panties.

“Right here?” Eric watched her as she tossed the G-string on the floor.

Again, she took his cock into her hands. “I want you to fuck me here. On the kitchen island.”

He grabbed her by the hips. “You’re not gonna let me see all of you, are you?” He lifted her up on the marble island, then raised her legs so she could bring her heels to rest on his shoulders, while she lay back on the cool surface.

His gaze dipped lower, and his nostrils flared. When he pulled her ass to line up with the edge of the island, she closed her eyes and waited for the moment when she would feel his cock penetrate her in one quick thrust. But instead, she felt his head between her legs, his stubble tickling her inner thighs, and his warm tongue on her slit.

Shock jolted her to sit up and sever the connection. “What the—”

Eric grabbed her thighs roughly, pulled them apart farther, and pressed his mouth to her pussy again. A shudder charged through her body, and for a moment, she couldn’t think or act. This wasn’t what happened during one-night stands. No such intimacies were allowed. Only quick, hard fucks. That was the rule. Her rule. A rule that she’d put in place so she’d never get attached to anybody. A rule so she would never fall in love.

“Fuck,” she murmured again. Perhaps, just this once, she could allow a man to pleasure her in a different way. Just for a moment, and then she would make him stop before he went too far.

Relentlessly his tongue teased her clit, stroked it, caressed it as if she’d taught him how. Her arousal was spiking, her body tensing like it always did just before she came. She had to stop him now, force him to take his mouth off her. She had to demand it.

“Eric… please…” But even to her ears, her command didn’t sound right. It wasn’t a command at all; it was a woman begging for release.

And Eric was acting on it. He pulled her clit between his lips and pressed down. Her body erupted. Spasms raced through her and exploded outward. Her body was on fire, and perspiration collected underneath her clothes. And just as she thought her orgasm was subsiding, she felt Eric’s cock plunge deep into her, his hands on her hips so the impact wouldn’t make her slide away.

“Now I’ll fuck you,” he said between gritted teeth. “Because now you’re ready for my cock.”

His deep voice sent shivers down her spine and bolts of heat to her nipples and clit. Thrusting deep and fast, Eric bent over her and sucked her nipples again.

“You have perfect tits,” he murmured against her heated flesh.

“No, I don’t,” she protested. All men lied during sex. “And you don’t have to pretend they are.”

Eric lifted his head. “I guess I’m gonna have to pound the truth into you.” He doubled the speed with which he thrust into her, his thick cock stretching her to capacity, its tip reaching farther than she’d ever felt any man.

Involuntary moans tumbled from her lips. She wanted to hold them back, wanted to hide what he did to her, but she didn’t have the strength. Didn’t have the will. All she wanted was to let go, to give herself over to this feeling of being desired, of letting another person take care of her, despite the dangers, despite the risk to her heart.

“You feel that, don’t you, Enya?” he challenged, staring at her, while he moved his hips and thrust his cock. “Tell me you feel my cock. Tell me you love my cock.”

Heat shot through her. But his voice was beseeching, his words tempting. “Yes, I love your cock.”