Page 36

Chapter 35

Let Me Play with My Pretty Mouse

Jemma

H is eyes darkened, and his grin turned feral. It should probably have worried me, but all I could muster was awareness of everywhere his huge, hot, red body made contact with mine.

His big palms cupped my spilling boobs, thumbs tracing the edge of the corset.

“How far down does the red go, Mouse?” he asked in a low rumble. “Shall I undress you and find out?”

Before I had a chance to do more than suck in a needy breath, he hooked a finger under the laces at the front of the corset and tugged. I staggered forwards, pulled towards him, but then the laces snapped, and his deft fingers parted the leather.

Sorry not sorry, Esther and Jules , I thought vaguely, achy heat tingling outwards from my core as he bared my boobs. Your corset is getting sacrificed to Satan Junior …

“Hmmm,” he growled, peeling the corset to my waist and just staring at my naked chest. “Thank badness these pretty nipples are still my favourite shade of pink.”

“Your favourite?” I let out a teeny moan when he tweaked them.

“Only until I suck them into a nice, rich cerise. Then that will be my new favourite.” He slowly inched the corset down until it passed my waist, my hips. His thumbs hooked until the waistband of the red pantyhose.

“Well, at least your legs will be an easy fix.”

With one sweep, my clothing was tugged down my legs, tangling at my ankles. I was naked, save for the tiny, seamless G-string I’d been wearing under the lot. He took a step back, palming the obscenely large bulge in his leather pants as he perused me.

I was virtually naked, drenched with Hell water, unable to run because of the constrictive clothing locking my ankles together.

My pussy pulsed demandingly, and my nipples tingled. As if he could tell just what this was doing to me, he smirked.

“Face the wall, Mouse.”

“But—”

“Are you a good girl?” he asked, stepping closer, his hand tangling in my sodden hair, gripping my neck and tilting my head back. “Or am I going to have to punish you?”

“Punish me,” I pleaded, the words cut off when his mouth crashed into mine, plundering, licking, nipping and sucking at my tongue until I was melting, his hand on the back of my neck the only thing that was holding me up.

He ground himself against me, his cock so hard in his pants, and I gasped against his lips, reaching between us to graze my palm along it.

“Behave yourself.” Like a flash, he caught my wrists in one of his giant hands and tugged them above my head. My back hit the stone hard enough to force the air from my lungs. I glanced down at the body paint melting off my arms and chest under the water.

“Now, I’m going to make sure this perfect little body is clean before I get it nice and dirty. If I have to pin you to the wall to clean you up, I will.”

A sly grin pulled at my lips, and I struggled against his hold on my wrists. “Oh, no, please don’t pin me to the wall!” I teased.

“Oh, Mouse. You like to play, don’t you?”

“With you? Very much,” I admitted, then hissed as his fingers slid down one arm, starting at my pinned wrist, swiping away what remained of the paint. I squirmed when he hit my armpit, a giggle bursting out.

“Tickles!” I squealed.

His chuckle was dark. “Ah, but it feels good, doesn’t it?” He swapped hands, keeping my wrists pinned above my head, repeating the process along my other arm. He spent extra time tracing circles in my underarm while I writhed at the torturous tickling … and thoroughly soaked through the scrap of fabric between my legs, my pussy aching and wishing he was tickling me there instead.

“I … it does,” I gasped, thrusting my hips away from the wall, seeking contact with his body. “Need more!”

“Do you now?” The smirk in his tone made me want to go to my knees for him. “How badly?”

His sinful fingers found one nipple, pinching and rolling it.

“So badly—desperately even!”

He pressed closer to me, his lips at my ear, words dripping like honey.

“Turn. Hands on the wall. The faster you let me wash you, the faster I can have you coming. And coming. And coming.” He released my wrists.

The speed at which I complied with his command was almost embarrassing. But then his hands were on my shoulders, massaging away the paint. Sliding down my spine until I shivered.

When he traced the waistband of my G-string, I lost my breath. Because when he got to the middle, his finger slipped down the strand tucked between my butt cheeks.

“Does this tickle, Mouse?” he rasped, resting his arm against the wall, pressing his body against mine. Stroking up … and down that flimsy scrap of fabric. Not quite far enough to get to where I was desperate and aching and drenched. Up … and down …

“Please,” was all I could manage. I couldn’t spread my legs wider to get his fingers where I needed them, pinned as I was by my clothing. But I rocked my butt back against him, and for a delicious second, his finger slipped, grazing my slit.

Then he snatched his hand away, gripping my hip with enough force to bruise.

“You’re clean enough,” he snarled, and with the hand bracing against the wall, he drew open a portal. I barely had time to cry out as I tumbled into it.

Splash !

I gasped, submerged to my waist in water that was so warm it was almost too much. Almost, but not quite.

And bubbling.

“What is—” I squeaked as a big, strong arm wrapped around my waist from behind.

“In my mind, I’ve fucked every hole of yours in this very Hellspring,” his rough voice rasped in my ear as he lifted me back against him. One hand found my legs, tugging off my stilettos one at a time. They went flying out of the bubbling water, landing out of sight across the cavernous space. “I’ve bent you over the edge and eaten you out until you were nothing more than a whimpering puddle of pleasure. I’ve pressed that aching little pussy of yours against these bubbles and watched you come undone. I’ve sat on the edge—right there …” He turned me until I noticed the ledge of stone jutting out just above the surface of the water, “… and fed my cock into your greedy little throat.”

The last vestiges of my corset and pantyhose were ripped from my ankles, following the stilettos across the cavern, leaving an arc of water splashing down to the hot spring.

“But right now, I’m desperate for a taste of you, Mouse,” he growled, lifting me onto the ledge, laying me face down on the warm, smooth stone, my legs dangling into the water.

When I pressed up onto my palms, a gentle but firm hand between my shoulder blades guided my chest back to the stone. “Stay just like that. Let me play with my pretty Mouse. I’m going to devour this sweet little pussy.”

His pretty Mouse. The way my heart skipped a beat at those words. But was he mine ?

I wanted him to be. So badly. Against all better judgement, I wanted this big, red devil to be mine .

“O-okay,” I stammered, my pussy clenching violently as his fingers hooked around the strand of my G-string and tugged it aside, his palms spreading my cheeks.

“Look at you, already throbbing for me.” He thumbed my pussy lips apart, and my nails scratched in vain against the stone. I needed something to hold onto, or I was going to?—

“Oh!”

His mouth was on me, his tongue ravenously delving. He groaned raggedly, licking deeper into me, fingers digging into my butt cheeks, spreading me wider. His tongue lapped its way from my entrance to my clit, flicking and teasing until I was making the most depraved sounds, rocking my hips back to meet his mouth.

“Delicious,” he snarled against my swollen flesh, grazing his teeth against my clit. “You taste better than I dreamed, Mouse.”

My pussy clenched around nothing, and he growled, his tongue thrusting into me, swirling, lapping. “More, Mouse. Give me more of that sweetness!”

“Holy Hell!” I cried when the flat of his tongue pressed against my clit, and his raspy moans vibrated through me, drawing my pleasure higher, and higher, and …

He stopped.

“What? No!” I gasped, rocking backwards, hoping to find his mouth, his finger, his big cock. Something to ease the desperate ache.

A flash of portal on the stone beneath me, and I was falling through space and time … again …

I landed softly. Face down. On a bed that smelled of campfire and cloves.

“Is my Mouse feeling a little … frantic?” He chuckled sinfully, and with the ease of a male so much larger than me, flipped me onto my back, tearing away the remnants of my drenched G-string. His horns had definitely grown—they flared out on either side of his skull, black and shiny. Water sluiced down his pecs and abs … tracing the lines of that sexy V and the happy trail of golden curls leading to the world’s most impressive erection, jutting out the top of his breeches.

With a deft flick of his fingers, his laces were loose, the flaps of his pants falling aside.

“Wow,” I breathed, my thwarted orgasm thrumming in my blood as the thick, crimson length of him pulsed against his stomach.

He smirked down at me. “Do you like my cock, Mouse?” He gripped himself and stroked, just once. Precum glistened on the crown. My mouth watered to lap at it.

“I love it,” I confessed, fingers digging into the bedding because oh, I wanted to grab it, to kiss him from base to tip, to lick every inch of him until he was as frantic as he’d just made me. But I remained still, waiting to see where he was going with this. He clearly wanted to be in charge, so I was going to let him.

And I wasn’t mad about it. Not one bit.

“Do you recall, a number of weeks ago, now,” he mused, climbing onto the bed between my spread thighs. “Muttering to Luci about how you wished to mount my horns?”

“I … maybe?” I couldn’t remember my own name at that point, as he loomed over me, his body so big and so powerfully sexy. “It’s hard to think straight when I’m about to be fucked by the Devil.”

He shook his head slowly, tauntingly. “We’re not even close to that yet, Mouse. As I recall from your exhaustive lectures on the subject, human females must be very well prepared before they can take their monster males.” He scooped me up, and just like that, I was straddling his stomach, and he was propped against his pillows. I squeaked as he leaned closer, his mouth closing around one nipple, sucking so hard that it could have been painful.

But it wasn’t. Oh boy, it was anything but, and I was rocking my slippery pussy against his abs, and I was going to orgasm all over his stomach, with his mouth latched onto my nipple and his palms kneading my butt cheeks.

He released my nipple with a slurping pop, stilling my rocking hips. His eyes were almost completely black as he lifted me off his stomach. Thwarting my climax again.

I whimpered, desperate for the hot pulse inside me to be relieved. “You’re not playing fair!”

He leered up at me. “I think you’ll find the next several minutes more than make up for it. Time for you to find out what mounting a devil’s horns really means.”