Page 17 of Oh No! There’s an Incubus in my Hot Spring (Getting Cozy with Demons #1)

seventeen

Scintillating Sensations

W e wave farewell to Leonard and then part ways in the parking lot with a promise of many more meetings to discuss awesome ideas, how many hours she’ll work, and her responsibilities. The drive home is all caramel and chocolate scents blending with anticipation.

It’s dark when I open the door to the apartment, and when I turn to lock the door, Apollo pounces. His hands slide over my hips to my waist, and he nuzzles my neck.

“Were you thinking about me undressing you on the way home?” he asks in a deep purr.

“I was, but after this dessert,” I say, holding up the bag securing the caramel chocolate cake.

He takes the bag and sets it on the end table next to the door. “I think my dessert needs attention first.”

His hands slide over my thighs and then he cups me tightly with one as the other roves farther up my stomach, grazing under my breast. I cover his hands with mine, loving how much bigger and stronger they are. It’s easy to lean back into him and moan, adoring the affection after being denied it for so long.

“But the ice cream will melt,” I say, staring up at the moon through the glass ceiling.

Apollo groans and cups my breast, squeezing just hard enough to make me squirm. “Then we’ll put it in the freezer.”

“And the cake. It’s hot and fresh, and, oh—” I gasp as his teeth graze the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck.

“We can put it on the stove to warm it up,” he says. His hand is between my legs, making tight circles at my core. I want this more than I want the cake, but his insistence is delightful. Any other man would’ve given up by now.

“The caramel sauce,” I whimper. “It’ll…drip.”

“ You’re dripping,” he whispers in a low timbre as he gathers the material of my dress at my thigh. “I feel how much you want this—need this. Let me take a moment with you first, and then we’ll have your cake.”

“But, cake,” I whine, urging him on, testing him without even meaning to.

His tail snags the handles of the bag, pulling it down to reveal the container that he opens with his other hand. “Fine. A taste for a taste,” he says as he dips his fingers into the caramel.

His other hand sneaks under my panties, dragging two fingers through my arousal before making a tight circle at my clit. I plant my hands on the door in front of me for stability. He holds his sticky, caramel-sweet fingers to my lips and traces the bottom one, coating it.

“Taste,” he whispers.

I lick my bottom lip and he circles my clit faster before dipping down into me again. I tremble at the concoction of sensations running through me. Pleasure in two different forms short-circuiting my brain. I make an undignified noise as he pumps into me and pulls on my G-spot.

He drags his fingers out, holding my dress up with his spade-shaped tail tip, then puts his slick fingers in his mouth and sucks. He groans into my hair as his fingers pop free from his lips. “My dessert is better, for certain.”

“You can’t know that until you’ve tried both,” I say on a shaky breath.

“Trust me, I know.”

He dips his caramel-coated hand back into the cake, getting a smear of vanilla ice cream next. I pant heavily as his other hand coasts against my inner thigh. His tail hooks on the crotch of my panties and pulls them aside as his fingers dive back into me.

My knees buckle and I throw my head back on his shoulder. He paints my lips with the melting ice cream.

“Taste, lovely,” he whispers in my ear like an angel as his other hand commits a delirious sin.

I pull my lips in, licking both of them and getting remnants of sweet caramel with the vanilla bean cream. He slides out of me, giving my clit ample attention before sucking his fingers again.

“Do you want more?”

I’m not sure if he’s asking about my dessert or his, but the answer is the same. “Yes, please.”

He slides his fingers across our once-pretty dessert, and I open my mouth. I reach out with my tongue and pull his fingers in, sucking on him. I swirl my tongue across his blunted nails and smooth knuckles, smearing the sweet sauce. I come around to the pads of his fingers, and then slide between them.

He huffs out a breath and his other hand tenses on my bare thigh. “They call me the seducer.”

He cups me with his whole hand, holding me securely against his hips. The bulge flexing against my backside is proof that I’m affecting him. I love it.

His tail releases my panties and comes up to my throat, pushing my hair aside. He plants an open-mouth kiss below my ear as his fingers spread me open and begin to play. I grind against his hand in undulating waves, relishing the feel of his erection in one moment and the extra pressure of his hand against my pussy in the next.

“You’re perfect, Sylvia,” he whispers, then nibbles my earlobe.

I moan, nipping and sucking his fingers harder. His tail returns to my thigh, sliding and winding around as I sense the tip change shape. It’s less like a spade now and more like a…I gasp as he drags his rounded tail tip across my opening.

Apollo’s thumb presses against my chin, closing my mouth around his fingers. “Keep tasting me, lovely.”

I return my attention to his fingers in my mouth, twisting and twirling my tongue, nipping and sucking. He shudders, planting rougher kisses against my exposed neck. His fingers hold me open while one taps a beat on my clit. The shock of his pad hitting me like that has me squeezing my thighs together.

Apollo plants his feet inside mine and pries my legs apart, making my hands slide several inches down the door. I yelp and catch myself. He chuckles darkly while his tail continues to soak itself against my opening.

I close my eyes, my core aching with need. I want him to fuck me with his tail already. I need to be filled to quench the desire growing in my belly. I buck my hips forward, trying to fuck myself onto him, but it doesn’t work. I whine, biting his fingers a little harder.

“There’s that impatience,” he says, and I feel his smile against my throat. “I love your fire.”

His tail pushes against my entrance and I lean into my hands. He slides in an inch, then another, and the girth of it has me gasping. His finger keeps up the tap-tap-tap on my clit and it makes me whimper.

“Oh, my lovely witch,” he sighs. “If only you knew how good you felt.”

He slides his fingers out of my mouth, down my chin, and grips my throat as his tail thrusts deeper. I gasp, dropping my head between my arms braced on the door. I want to look over my shoulder and kiss him. I want to taste what he tastes like. I want him to taste the caramel on my lips.

I look up and glance over my shoulder. He’s watching me, his thumb stroking my jaw. His eyes swirl like pools of shattered ice.

“That’s it. Let me love you the way you need,” he murmurs.

Love me.

I’m too close to falling under his spell.

I can’t let myself succumb. He’s dangerous. This is dangerous.

The ridges of his tail ripple past my opening and I lose awareness of my thoughts as I cry out. He pulls me back against his chest and my hands fly to his wrists.

“Lean into me. Trust me. I have you,” he says, flicking his tongue across my jaw.

My muscles clench around him and the pressure mounts in my lower belly. I press my legs against his, which keep me spread, and squeeze my nails into his skin. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. He only hastens his kisses and the thrusts of his tail.

“Let me love you.”

Just this once. I’ll let myself let go.

Just this once.

I’ll trust him to have me.

I relax and Apollo groans, holding me tighter. “That’s my witch.”

Suddenly, we’re on the couch. His tapping finger changes to a forceful, deliberate circle on my clit while his tail thrusts into me. I’m moaning at the ceiling, staring at the clouds that drift past the moon.

“Fuck, Sylvia, come for me,” he murmurs against the shell of my ear and his request sends me flying. My eyes slam shut and my muscles convulse as I cry out. He holds me tight, not letting me get away from him as he continues his assault on my body.

“You’re so beautiful. Your aura is glowing, lovely.” He whispers something else, something like “your taste” and “ libertas, ” which my Spanish-speaking brain scrambles. He continues to murmur praise and random words that sound Latin-ish as my heart settles.

“Thank you for dessert,” I say, finally coming back into my body.

He hums. “Thank you for dessert. The caramel was truly decadent.”

I chuckle, knowing he didn’t taste any of it, but that he did taste it through my reaction. This must have been a feast for him. So much of my pleasure is his now, but I don’t care.

I won’t get attached. I won’t make this hard.

I can let him go.