Page 36 of A Hail From Hell: Vol 1

Evan shook his head.

Was that thing trying to control his mind?

Shit, my core.

As long as his core of spiritual energy was exposed, Evan was vulnerable to tricks. Tricks like controlling his mind to manipulate him into doing anything. It was a surprise that the red-clad figure was only toying with him and hadn’t sucked him dry of all spiritual energy yet.

But Evan couldn’t focus enough to close the barrier around his core of spiritual energy with the ghost-pervert hovering over him like an impending disaster.

The said ghost-pervert’s head cocked, long dark strands descending around his pale face, fingertips running along the column of Evan’s neck. The glow in his eyes blazed as he softly smiled down at the boy who was failing to struggle his way out of his grasp.

He was indeed like a “little storm.” Fierce and unrestrained, demanding to be set free. But he wouldn’t let him go.

Not again.

After cursing and struggling helplessly against the figure, Evan’s limbs turned numb, his mind spiraling under the weight of the alien emotions rushing into him.

“Fuck…off,” his head turned dizzy as his back flattened on the floor, eyes unfocused on the pale face hovering over him.

The rush of hunger clogged the air once again. Stronger. More intense. A cloak of black smoke emanated from the mighty figure, creating a bubble around them, sealing them in.

Evan’s eyelids drooped, fingers trembling as he pushed at the figure’s shoulders, refusing to give up until the very last fragment of his consciousness remained.

“Don’t…” But he couldn’t push him off.

Panting like he couldn’t help himself, the figure leaned down, breathing into Evan’s neck, inhaling deeply. Gently nipping.

“Please…” His tongue tipped out, running down the column of Evan’s throat, across his protruding collarbone. “Just once…”

Evan’s legs stiffened around him. His hips buckled.

That… That was wrong. He couldn’t let him.

He had to fight back…

Evan’s conscience flickered momentarily in his periphery as a stifled groan left his lips. “Stop…”

“Just once…” the figure whispered into the crook of Evan’s neck, grasping his arms and holding them down by his sides. There was no need for that, really. Evan wouldn’t be able to move even if he wanted to.

Grinding himself between Evan’s legs, he breathed, “One taste…”

Taste…

Taste?

Something sharp grazed the side of his neck. Evan froze.

“Do not be afraid...”

A huge palm cupped Evan’s nape, then tilted his head sideways, exposing the fair, flawless skin of Evan’s throat. A pulse thundered below his ear, blood rushing to his head, then down his body.

It was the most fucked-up situation to be in as an exorcistanda man, being groped by an inexplicably gorgeous, inhuman entity. Yet, to Evan it was a bit...

His shorts tightened at the crotch.

Fuck.

The figure opened his mouth, baring a pair of razor-sharp fangs as he ran his tongue down a patch of fair skin.

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