Page 4 of Craving Demons

“If you don’t veil yourself, I might lose control and take you, right here, right now.” His breath was hot on my lips and smelled of cinnamon. “I probably could stop myself, but I’m not sure I want to, given the way your aspect is gushing all over the place. You’re practically screaming for sex.”

Was I?

I mean, yeah, my blouse was unbuttoned a little lower than most and my pencil skirt was short with a slit all the way up one side, but still…? And what did he mean, veil myself? Like… wear a head scarf or something? This man’s bronzed skin did give him an exotic Middle Eastern sort of look, but still, this was New York. I could dress however the fuck I wanted.

I licked my lips, but he was so close my tongue brushed his as well and we both shuddered with that wet contact.

Desperate, my hands rose to his chest, trying to push him away… entirely in vain. He was solid, immovable, and also… I wasn’t entirely sure I didn’t want this. I did like bad boys after all, half of my fantasies were about taming them and the other half were about letting them be so very, very bad… like this one was now.

One of his massive hands left the wall and slid down my arm, feeling me through the sheer fabric of my shirt. I shivered at his heated touch. When he got to my elbow, he slid off and his hand pressed to the curve of my waist, then down over my hips. He found the hem of my short skirt and the heat of his palm pressed to my thigh. He didn’t even need to pull that hard. I moved with him, lifting my leg up his thick thigh to hitch around his waist. Then his hand moved again, moving back up my thigh and hiking up my skirt with it.

Oh… Fuck!If he got to my already wet panties, I’d absolutely melt and there wouldn’t be any going back!

Instead, his hand slid to my ass and pressed us closer still. With my leg around him and hips tilted up I could feel the rock-hard salami-sized bulge in his pants, and my inner defenses were quickly fading away.

I pushed myself against him, needing to feel all of that hard body. It was a completely physical, reactive thing, I didn’t mean to, but I needed to be closer.

Apparently, some part of my mind was still sane though, and despite my body’s actions, I found myself saying, “What if I say, no?”

He drew back a little, looking confused.

“If you don’t want this, then veil your damned power!” he hissed.

Again with the veil thing? “What power?”

He looked long and hard into my eyes. “You… don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“Fuck, youreallydon’t know.” He let go. The hand on my ass shifted to push my leg off him as he stepped back.

For a split second, I wanted to follow him, keep myself pressed against him, but sanity was starting to take over again and I backed off, slumping against the wall with a sigh.

Fuck, that had been far too close.

“Know what?” I repeated, a bit more vehemently. All of this was getting very confusing.

“That you’re a daemon.”

ANAIS

Fuck me,a what now?

A demon?

“I can’t tell what type specifically. Your voice isn’t engaged with the allure, so I’m guessing you’re not a Siren.” He became more analytical, and I was growing even more confused.

Siren? What was he talking about?

“It’s still daylight, which suggests you’re not Lilin, and probably not Qarinin. You’re not cold to the touch, so not Yukine.”

Now he was just spouting nonsense words.

“Are you hungry?” he asked suddenly.

Why? You want to take me out to dinner? Because… No! And also what the fuck? I mean, yes, you’re super-hot, but where did that come from?“Ah… no?”

“So not Eishetine.” He looked me up and down again, curious and appraising. “I’d guess Naamahine or Asherine… though Rusalken or Mahlatine could be possible.”

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