Page 5 of Demon’s Temptation

Unfortunately, the demon part of Brent didn’t allow him that luxury.

Brent crooked a finger at him.

He moved toward Brent immediately, hands loose at his sides, eyes downcast. The perfect sub.

Perfect for what he needed tonight, anyway. The only kind of partners he dared take into the privacy of the playrooms lately. He took the utmost care with his subs, always, but with the volatile emotions hammering him, he didn’t trust himself with a female. Afraid he might be too rough. He would never forgive himself if that happened.

But that wasn’t the only reason he’d been choosing males, he couldn’t deny it, not even to himself. There was only one female he wanted, and he couldn’t have her.

He couldn’t pretend with her.

Brent didn’t look back at Chaya as he led the guy to his playroom.

He couldn’t bear to, he might not be able to go through with this again if he did, and what that might lead to didn’t bear thinking about. God, he could still taste the pain he’d caused her, the humiliation.

He tried to tell himself that Chaya knew the people he took into those rooms meant nothing to him, that what he did in there fed his demon, nothing more.

Still, it caused her pain.

They were stuck in a fucked-up cycle and he didn’t know how to stop it.

What did she want from him?

Why did she stay?

Why couldn’t he let her go?

* * *

Brent admired Spencer’s once-pale skin. The other male’s ass was nice and pink from the paddle Brent had just used. Sweat slicked his flesh and his thighs trembled. Smacking the guy’s ass again, Brent forced the butt plug deeper, making him writhe and moan, beg.

“Come,” Brent said, low. “Now.”

Spencer cried out, doing exactly what he was told, humping into the spanking bench he was bent over.

Brent moved around to stand in front of him. The male was naked, strapped down, and helpless, and Brent gorged on the emotions pouring off him. All that hunger and lust, the satisfaction, the relief, the gratitude, not to mention the delicate, delicious wave of pleasure pain each time Brent had used the paddle.

Jealousy spiked through him.

He wanted that.

To be restrained, the sweet sting of a paddle on his ass, forced to come.

But not by some faceless male who used him when he was at his most vulnerable, but the female he craved more than anything else in existence.

Stop.

He sucked in a deep breath. Christ, what Spencer was sending out was a heady mix and the reason he needed the utmost control. If he didn’t keep it together, it would be so easy to get lost in it. To take and take, to gorge until he was lost, and accidentally hurt someone who had put their trust, their pleasure in his hands for the short time he had them in this room. The incubus he’d become was a greedy bastard, was all-consuming, never satisfied.

“I think you’ve earned a reward, Spencer, for being such a good little sub.” He stepped closer to the guy’s face, brushing his still-covered erection against his fevered cheek. He brushed his hand through Spencer’s damp hair, massaging his scalp, and the guy purred. “I’m going to fuck your mouth, Spencer.”

“Y-yes, please, Sir.”

He moved away briefly and the guy whimpered, already licking his lips. They were pretty lips, but that wasn’t the mouth he wanted. His voice wasn’t the one he wanted to hear. He grabbed a blackout blindfold hanging on the wall and moved back, covering Spencer’s eyes. Unzipping his pants, he freed his cock, and nudged it against his lips. Spencer opened without hesitation, like he knew he would, and Brent fed him his hard dick.

He didn’t want this, didn’t want this male…didn’t want to be in this room playing at being Dom, but his body, the incubus side of his DNA wouldn’t let him walk away, not after Chaya’s little show, and not after another failed attempt at drawing Garrett out.

It was either this or lose it completely.