Page 78 of Samhain Savior
Delilah
My heart was thrashing in my chest, but worse than that was the steady pulse beating between my legs.
Archer was going to touch me. He was going to make me come, and the horrible demon, Astaroth, was going to watch.
Under my scratchy dress, my nipples pebbled, my body so turned on by the entire situation that I could scarcely breathe.
What was wrong with me? I should have been horrified by the entire situation, and instead I was practically panting for it.
Watching Archer make a deal with the Duke of Hell, a cruel and powerful man who ruled over a kingdom of tortured souls, caused a fresh wave of desire to stir within me. He was so resolute, so much incontrol of himself, I wondered what it would take to see him break. To see that mask of ordered detachment crack for something other than his rage.
And I wondered if I could be the one to make it happen.
Now that the deal was done, Archer turned, his heated gaze leveled on me, and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning.
He was so sexy, his demonic form not detracting from his physical appeal to me in any way. Archer had always been big, muscular and strong, but in his true form, he was hulking, his size not the least bit intimidating and wholly enticing.
I stared at him, the way his shirt and pants hung, torn and ruined, from his frame, the black, leathery wings rising and falling with each of his breaths, and I knew that there was nothing I wanted more than to have that demon put his hands on me. To feel him against me, surrounding me and keeping me.
Making me his.
Blinking furiously, I tried to shake off the wayward thoughts that I had no business entertaining. What we were about to do was transactional, a payment for services rendered. The incubus wanted an orgasm and I was going to give him one.
As simple as that.
Archer took me in, his burning black gaze dragging up my body and leaving goosebumps in its wake. For a while, I wasn’t sure he’d go through with it. Demon deal or not, he seemed reluctant, no matter how restlessly his tail twitched on the floor behind him.
Just the thought of that tail and the things he might have been able to do with it had me shifting on my feet, my thighs rubbing back and forth in an effort to quell the fire burning between my legs.
Archer inhaled, a low growl in the back of his throat, and I felt a blush rising up my cheeks. Did he know? Could he tell how turned on I was?
I stared up at him, watching as he prowled across the room toward me, his body moving with an animalistic grace that had my whole body clenching in anticipation, but it was when he licked his lips, showing off the forked tongue that hid behind his fanged teeth, that I couldn’t help the quiet moan that escaped me.
“Oh, my,” Astaroth murmured breathily. “You’re a desperate little slut, aren’t you?” Grabbing himself roughly, the Duke let out a low groan. “He hasn’t even touched you yet, and you’re already so fucking close.”
I wanted to snap at him, to swear that he was wrong, but that would have been a lie.
Because I was closer than I’d ever want to admit.
After snarling a wordless warning at Astaroth, Archer dragged out a chair from the dining table—which had thankfully been cleared of its horrific dinner offerings—and pulled it into the middle of the room, facing Astaroth on his ridiculous throne. Settling himself down on the seat, Archer spread his legs wide before holding one hand out to me.
“Come, witch.”
“Not yet, she’s not,” Astaroth chuckled, his own hand sliding inside his pants as he continued to stroke himself.
Archer ignored him, instead holding my gaze as he waited for me to take his hand.
As I looked at him, his dark eyes holding so much burning intensity, I knew that there would be no going back from this moment.
Drawing in a shaky breath, I stepped forward and placed my hand in his.
The contact immediately created a buzz of sensation that started in my fingers and quickly traveled up my arm and through my whole body, dancing along my limbs like fireflies in the dark. I couldn’t tell if Archer felt the same, because as soon as he had my hand, he tugged, pulling my body between his spread thighs and caging me there. Even sitting, he was still tall, his eyes level with mine as he stared at me. I could see myself reflected in the glassy surface of hisblack gaze, my mouth open and my cheeks stained with a blush that I could feel, the heat of my lust burning through me like wildfire.
The collar, that ever-present entity I’d actually come to like, hummed in anticipation.
“Archer,” I breathed, not sure what I was asking for, but knowing down to my bones that he would give it to me.
A low purr rattled out of him, the sound vibrating between us, comforting me and seeming to calm my racing heart.
