I want to feel beautiful, like a woman, not a demon hunter.
Maccus’s dark eyes gave away nothing of his thoughts. But his body told a different story. His lips were slightly parted, his breathing heavy. The heat of his erection pulsed hard against her thigh. He was still, a patient hunter waiting to flush out his prey.
Death was always hovering, waiting to swoop in and take what little existence she had. She’d much rather taste life.
She placed her hands over his and pressed them more firmly against her breasts. Some piece of information tickled the back of her brain, some tidbit about a fallen angel. What was it?
Then Maccus leaned down and ran his tongue over the slope of her breast, and her mind turned to mush. Either she’d think of it later or she wouldn’t. But for now, she’d enjoy what was to come.
The texture of his skin was rough. The heat of his mouth made her crave more. And he gave it to her. He swiped at her nipple with his tongue before sucking on the hardened nub. Heat and tingles raced from that point down to between her thighs. She clutched at his hair, letting it glide through her fingers. It was as soft as the finest silk and a sensual caress whenever it brushed her skin.
His neck was thick, his shoulders broad. Touching him was like being allowed to pet a wild, exotic animal. One that others feared. It gave her a sense of courage and also of being privileged.
The erotic torture continued as he dragged his tongue over one nipple and then the other, massaging her breasts until it was no longer enough. A low growl slipped past his lips when she lifted her hips and rubbed herself against him. In retaliation, he worked his way down her body, peppering her torso with kisses until he finally settled between her spread thighs.
God, he was going to lick between her legs. Anticipation had her panting and her core spasming.
He placed his hands on her inner thighs and pushed them wide, exposing her totally to his gaze. His eyes flashed, turning from black to red, momentarily startling her.
Then he ran his tongue over her slick folds from back to front, and all else fell away. A low moan escaped her when he flicked his tongue over her clit.
“Don’t stop.” Her voice was hoarse with barely suppressed need. It was deeper than usual. Sultry.
He lifted his head and licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with sexual promise. Then he dove back in sucking and licking her into madness.
He’s going to kill me.
Was it possible to die of sexual frustration? Doubtful, but it seemed that way. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. He’d get her to the edge and pull back, leaving her hanging. She wrapped her legs around his shoulders and thumped her heels against his back.
The man was diabolical.
“Finish it before I kill you.” The threat was real. She was ready to use her knife on him if necessary. He laughed, and that low sound of pleasure vibrated through her, making her shiver with a mini orgasm. She cried out and clutched him tighter.
“Oh, I’ll finish it.” It was both a threat and a promise. Another small spasm rocked her. “I’m not stopping until you scream.”
Okay then. That was good. Excellent, in fact.
Fisting the covers in her hands, she held on as he dragged the flat of his tongue over her clit, making good on his promise. She writhed and moaned, the heat from between her legs spreading across her entire body. Hell had never been this hot.
The cold in her soul melted against the onslaught of Maccus. He was too big, too primal, too powerful, too hot, too…everything.
Panic rose inside her hard and fast. She kicked at his shoulders.
Have to get away.
He gripped her hips, holding her in place as he thrust his tongue into her, simulating the sex act.
She stopped trying to break free, instead tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. The push and pull at war inside her a silent battle. So close. So clo—
Heat blasted through her—an explosion of pleasure so intense her vision dimmed. Her entire being shook and shuddered, her orgasm slamming into her with the subtly of a freight train.
He surged upward, his gaze capturing hers. The blunt tip of his cock probed her opening. His thick cock forged inward, stretching her, filling her, until he was seated to the hilt.
He overwhelmed her with the force of his possession. Ripples of pleasure rolled through her. She came again, this time not quite as intensely, but no less devastating.
But he wasn’t done. Sitting back on his heels, he gripped her hips in his large hands and thrust.
The friction was divine. The wetness from her orgasms made it easier to take him.
It was sublime.
She was in big trouble. He could ask her anything right now and she’d blurt out the truth. Was that his plan? Fuck her into honesty?
It was working.
Maybe she should try it.
His big body heaved over her, his tension mounting. He threw back his head and roared as the hot spurt of his release filled her.
Her eyes rolled back in her head. Fingernails dug into his forearms where she gripped him. The glow spilling from the hallway illuminated him. He was magnificent in his passion. His skin glistened. His tattoos shimmered, almost seeming to rise on his body before settling back down.
A long-lost memory came rushing back. It was a snippet of conversation overheard during her early days in Hell. She’d done her best to block those days from her memory. They were filled with torture and humiliation while she was “trained” for her new job as a hunter.
Two demons spoke in hushed tones about a man with tattoos, a dangerous one who even Lucifer feared. A fallen angel, one so deadly that neither Heaven nor Hell wanted him.
Icy fear crept over her body, freezing out the pleasure of her orgasms.
Like an animal scenting danger, he raised his head and watched her as he slowly withdrew. Her body still pulsed and throbbed.
But there was no denying the truth.
“You’re the one they call Hunter.”
…
Damn. She figured it out. He would have liked to fuck her again.
Inhaling deeply, he held the smell of sex in his lungs. Who knew how long it would be before he had such a lovely partner again?
“Yes, I’m Hunter.” That seemed to take her aback. “Did you think I’d deny it?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She sat up in bed, pressing her back against the headboard and wrapping her arms around her legs, totally closing herself off from him.
He climbed off the bed, grabbed a pair of pants from his closet, and pulled them on.
Deciding he’d be less distracted with her covered, he plucked a T-shirt from one of the shelves and tossed it toward her. He caught a glimpse of her perfect breasts as she yanked it on, covering her nakedness. It was a crime to hide them. They weren’t overly large, but sensitive and very responsive. He’d barely had a taste.