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Don’t let her bully you too much

Even though I know you get off on that

When are you coming back?

I wait for several minutes with a small smile on my face, but he doesn’t see the message and doesn’t reply. The bubble in my chest deflates, but is quickly replaced by panic when I smell something burning in the kitchen. I’m off the couch in a split second and find Annie cursing at the toaster, which is smoking.

“Fan,” I grunt, flipping the switch to pull the smoke away, then using a pair of tongs to pull the blackened bread out.

“What did I do wrong?” she asks, pouting and crossing her arms.

“Well, you have it set on high, sweetheart. Why are you trying to cook anyway?”

“I wanted to make you breakfast.”

I put my arm around her shoulder and kiss the side of her head. “That’s very nice of you, but how about you let me do it? You just sit there and look pretty.”

“You can cook?” Her question is so earnest that I realize she’s never seen me make food. All I’ve done is order delivery or let Ben take over my kitchen. With a sly grin, I grab her waist and lift her up, setting her on the counter beside the sink. Before I can step away, her shadows press into my back, holding me in place as she wraps her lower legs around my thighs.

“Annie,” I say with an edge of warning in my voice. It’s not that I don’t want her. I wanted her yesterday in the car, but I have no idea how this demon possession shit works, or what could happen if she and I go any further than we already have. She pulls me in closer, however, and lowers her lips to my neck, evaporating any shred of self-control I had left.

“I do not need to eat right away,” she murmurs, her shadows slithering up under my shirt. Unbidden, my hands raise themselves and settle on her hips. I’d say she’s finally taken over my body, but I know this is all me. I pull her to the edge of the counter, and she lets out a tiny gasp, then puts her arms around my neck.

Our lips meet, and I’m completely lost. I forget about the toast, about Ros, about the cats and my job and my family, and I damn near forget about Ben too when her body presses against mine. In this moment, she’s all I want. Everything else, including what she is and where she came from, be damned. Literally.

“I dunno,” I murmur, pushing her sheet of red hair away so my mouth can access her neck. “I’m pretty hungry.”

She lets out a small whine and drops her head back.

“Donottease me like this if you are going to cook first, Theo,” she growls, but I grab her thighs and push them up so she’s forced to fall back onto her elbows. Once her legs are resting on my shoulders, she seems to understand and gives me a deliciously wicked smile.

“You wanted to make me breakfast, didn’t you?” I ask, slipping my hands into the waistband of her shorts and yanking them off in one clean motion. They’re made of shadows, and I guess she could just make them disappear, but there’s something so satisfying about it. As I suspected earlier, she isn’t wearing any panties, and the confirmation only serves to make me incredibly hard. As she reaches down to remove her t-shirt, I grab the hem.

“Leave it,” I say, dipping my face between her legs. “It smells like him.” She drops her head back again as I run my lips and thumbs over her inner thighs, gently grazing her soft skin with my teeth, inching closer to the heat of her core.

“Theo, please,” she pants, squirming under my touch.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I like to savor my meals,” I laugh softly. Annie groans in frustration as I run a single fingertip through the wetness I can see gathering, practically dripping from her. An incredible moan tears from her when I put my lips over her clit and tease it with my tongue at the same time as sliding two fingers inside her.

I didn’t think I could be any harder than I am, but the way her muscles clench has me remembering what her pussy looked like wrapped around Ben’s cock yesterday. The way he tasted after being inside her comes to mind too. I almost want to set up my phone and take a video for him, but I can’t stop now that I’ve started. She tastes too fucking good. I think he’ll understand. I lift her thighs and spread them wider, increasing the pressure of my tongue against her nerves just as her hand finds my hair.

“Oh, fuck, Theo!” she groans, and pulls so hard that I’d probably make some kind of noise if I could breathe, but I’m drowning in that sweet place between her legs. I start to work her with my fingers, hooking them upwards when they’re all the way inside, pulling a loud moan from her each time. She’s being incredibly loud, but I don’t give a shit. It’s 8am on the Lord’s Day, and I’m eating out an insanely hot demon on my kitchen counter, while also thinking about an ex-priest’s dick in my mouth. The opinion of my neighbors and the salvation of my soul are probably both foregone conclusions at this point, neither very good. Keeping that in mind, I press harder, suck harder–until she’s literally dripping down my hand onto the kitchen floor, and I might be about to black out from oxygen deprivation.

Finally, her body arches up, she lets out a shuddering scream, and her hands fly back to grip the edge of the counter. I don’t stop, thrusting and hooking my fingers into her again and sucking hard on her clit, then sliding my other hand under her shirt to tease her nipples. When she seems to be spent, and I stop to wipe my mouth on Ben’s t-shirt, there’s smoke drifting up from her hands. It smells the same as when I accidentally put a hot pan on the crappy laminate countertop once. I think I know what happened.

“Annie…you might want to, uh…” I let out a soft laugh and wipe my hands too, then move around to the other side of the counter and gently hold her wrists.

“What did I do?” she asks breathlessly, releasing her vice grip. Sure enough, there’s two hand-shaped burn marks seared into the edge of my counter, and I can’t help but grin.

“You know,” I say, bracing my hands and leaning over, “I think you might have a property destruction kink. Ben’s front seat…my counters…” She lets out an actual giggle and reaches up to hold my face. The way she’s spread out–cheeks flushed, hair cascading over the edge of the counter, legs still splayed–makes me want to take a picture.

Annie seems to have the same thought. “Poor Ben will be sad that he missed breakfast.”

I pull out my phone. “I was never one to send people pictures of my food, but...” She gets a mischievous glint in her eye, then arches her back up a little and puts her hands on the edge of the counter, dropping her legs open further and posing. I take a picture and send it to Ben with a message that just says:

Had to eat by myself this morning and it was a bit lonely

If that doesn’t bring him back, nothing will, so I turn my text notifications on and kiss Annie on the forehead.