Page 45 of Sinless Demons
Ryke shifts on his feet, and I want him here. I want him with me. I want him in me.
"Ryke," I whisper without air in my lungs.
"Don't fucking look at him," Damien says with eerie calmness. "Look at me."
I blink, and I can't help but think about his brother in this moment. Sometimes, sometimes the violence of his brother slips out of Damien's mouth, and it's so surprising, it's hard to take it all in.
"Take off your jeans." He's still kneeling over me, but he leans back, his hands patiently on his knees as he waits for me to do as I'm told.
Krave's eyes flash, and I feel him eating up every move I make.
My fingers trail down the valley between my breasts, and it feels good to make them want me without ever touching them. It’s erotic in a way I’ve never felt before. With the heat of their attention, it’s like someone else is touching me. Delicate fingers ghost over the soft skin between my hips. They unsnap my jeans and slide with feather-light pressure across my thighs. They come up slow and teasingly between my legs, brushing over my center before coming right back down and pushing the clothes away entirely. I shimmy out of them and continue to stroke my fingers back and forth along the wetness of my black panties.
Damien’s lips part with heavy breaths as he focuses on those two fingers.
My hips lift to meet the gentle touch of my fingertips.
“Want more?” I ask quietly, the cool wind teasing my flesh and my nipples as I lie spread out for them all to see.
I glance to Krave. He’s unbuttoning his own jeans as he watches the stroking movement of my hand between my thighs.
“Yes,” Damien rasps out, glancing to Krave for only a moment as he speaks. His warm eyes meet mine, and he makes my legs shift when his big hand wraps around his own shaft.
My body feels like sex and power. It’s sensual magic that makes me forget everything aside from the men surrounding me.
My palm lifts higher, my fingers slip just under the band of my panties.
But I stop.
“Make Krave feel good, and I’ll make me feel good,” I tell him instead.
Damien’s hand wrapped around himself stops moving. He looks to the incubus at his side. Krave’s brows lift like he’s as surprised by what I just said as I am.
It’s a flip of dominance. Damien likes me taking care of him. I know he does. Our relationship is taking care of one another. He’s strong, but...
Will he take my command as I did his?
His hand lifts toward Krave. I watch with heavy attention. I wait with pent-up patience for him to wrap his big hand ever so slowly around Krave’s length.
But he never does.
Instead, his palms settle gently on either side of Krave’s sharp jaw. He leans in close, holding the incubus’s curious gaze. Then Damien’s lips brush sweetly against his. Krave’s lashes flutter at how delicate the touch is.
Has anyone ever touched him like that?
It’s a fleeting kiss, just a taste. And then Damien’s mouth is trailing lower. I forget how much of a giver he is. And fuck, is he giving. His lips are light at the lowest part of the incubus’s throat, but the scrape of his teeth isn’t. He bites so hard, Krave groans, his hand lifting to clutch Damien, but he holds himself back. He doesn’t dare make distracting magical contact with the man currently pleasing him. Lower and lower, Damien’s mouth drawls a sinful path down the muscles of Krave’s hard body. His big hands clamp over lean, carved hips. The flat of his tongue slides over the lines veering down, and Krave trembles hard from the teasing, flicking kiss.
But it seems Damien’s just getting started. His mouth veers low with open-mouthed kisses just beneath Krave’s hip. He bites and sucks and dips lower, but then comes right back up, never once touching Krave where he clearly wants and needs him.
“Damien,” Krave rasps out, his hands fisting at his sides to stop himself from touching.
He’s always so fucking careful with his hands. Meticulously careful.
That’s how I know what he does next is entirely intentional.
“Damien,” he whispers once more on the sweetest tone just before skimming his finger ever so lightly along the length of Damien’s neck.
Damien’s back arches, his arms shaking from the minor touch alone.
