Page 3 of The Devil and His Goddess (Sinners Do It Better #2)

Perseus

I WAS DUMBFOUNDED. UTTERLY AND entirely baffled. Not her type? Not her fucking type? I was everyone’s type. Even if someone wasn’t initially attracted to me physically, my charm quickly won over anyone I wanted.

And I wanted her.

Harper Ashwood.

The minute I’d spotted the ballerina who’d become my obsession ever since watching those recordings, I was determined to make her mine— tonight . I couldn’t wait another damn second. Feeding off the pleasure of a human that delectable was going to be the highlight of my goddamn week.

She’d been into me, too. That much was obvious from our interactions prior to her realizing who I was. I could smell her arousal the minute she saw me, and I knew she was absolutely heading down the path of fucking right alongside me.

Not her type?

The demon inside me growled at the rejection, even though I knew it was a lie. I watched Harper’s back as she fled the ballroom of the hotel where the party was taking place. She thought this was the end, that what had started to grow between us was officially put to rest. But her attempt at a blow to my pride had only fueled me in my interest.

I was a simple demon. Being told no by someone who secretly wanted me only made me want to pursue harder. When they finally caved to what we both knew they wanted, it was the sweetest amusement for me.

She thought she’d put this fire to rest. Little did my goddess know that she’d been my newest obsession for weeks now, and I had no intention of stopping here. I’d make her mine, play with her until I got bored, then I’d fucking ruin her and leave her behind to pick up the pieces.

It took every bit of willpower I had to stay at the party and not give chase like a predator after wounded prey. Luckily for her, this ballet company was important to me. I wouldn’t have bought it and made myself its new artistic director if it wasn’t, so I didn’t want to rush out of my own party. If she’d been open to fucking, I’d have gone immediately, but since she required more coaxing, I’d wait. Though, I wouldn’t wait too long.

I was a busy Incubus.

Not only was I a member of a very popular band and now an artistic director, but I was an avid eater, too. That meant looking for a new human daily to seduce and fuck, feeding off their pleasure. That shit took time, some more than others—Harper case in point.

But more than all of those things, I was a lover of the arts, more specifically ballet. I’d been on this earth for centuries now, and one thing that made being around for so long bearable was the artistry and magnificence of dance.

Humans were feeble, weak-minded creatures, yet when certain ballerinas or danseurs took the stage, magic unlike mine occurred. I had a wealth of power as a demon, but the wonder humans created before my very eyes often rendered me speechless. Powerless.

I’d wanted to be a part of that same kind of magic, so I became one of them. Dance was as much a part of me as sex was, which made it even more surreal to have my very own ballet company now.

Harper was even more enchanting than all those dancers from my previous experiences. Her magic on stage was heart-wrenching and soul-sucking, and that had been through mere video. Now, I’d gotten a glimpse of her abilities in person, though I knew it wasn’t even close to her magnificence when she truly performed. I’d seen a sliver of her splendor, which confirmed what I’d already suspected. She was beauty, she was grace, she was life.

I remained at the party to continue meeting the dancers I’d now be in charge of, as well as the staff. I mingled, drank, posed for photos with those who were fans of my band, and danced with a couple brown-nosing humans. Once almost everyone had left, I also excused myself.

Instead of heading home, I dipped into a dark alcove of the hotel, let my body dematerialize into shadow, and walked through that veil. In the blink of an eye, I left the hotel behind and appeared in my new office.

The room still had the strong odor of fresh paint, and I breathed in the fumes. It was a reminder of the facelift I had given this place, of the greatness this company would become under my control.

When I’d first inquired about Silverlight, it only had twenty-four dancers. The facilities were dilapidated in some areas and maintained to the bare minimum in others. Cracked plaster in the entrance, mold growing in corners, age eating away at the fabric of the stage’s curtain. Even certain rooms smelled sour and like body odor.

Those were the first things I’d fixed after buying the small company. No repair was too big or too small, and money wasn’t an issue. I hired in all new promising talent to join the existing dancers, and as I prepped for the new season, I vowed to make this once amazing company the best it had ever been.

My phone vibrated, and I pulled it from a hidden pocket in my costume. Xander’s name lit up the screen.

“What’s up?” I answered, leaning my forearms on the brand new mahogany desk.

“Pers,” Xander greeted. “You still at that party?”

“Nah. I left a minute ago.”

“Sick! You wanna come with me to find something to play with? Zagan can’t, obviously , and Coldin isn’t any fun. Dante said he was busy reading some horror book and not to bother him. So? You in?”

“You know I would, man,” I sighed. I snapped my fingers, and Harper’s employee file appeared in my hand. I laid it on the desk and flipped through it until I found what I was looking for. A smile stretched across my face. “But I’ve gotta make a house visit.”

“Well, shit,” Xander cursed, the disappointment evident in his voice. “How long will that be? Maybe we can do something after.”

“Maybe,” I relented, waving my hand at the folder. It disappeared back into whatever cabinet HR stored it in. “I’ll let you know. Go ahead and pick me out someone good. Ass, pussy, it doesn’t matter. If I can’t make it, you can have both.”

“Hell, yeah!”

I hung up with the Mischief demon. With the information I needed now ingrained in my head, I got up from my desk chair and stepped through shadows once more. I traversed the darkness until I made it to the home address listed in Harper’s file. I’d considered doing this the minute I saw her on those recordings, but I didn’t want to spoil the fun of waiting to meet her in person.

Harper’s home was massive, and I knew there was no way she could afford this with the measly salary the dance company paid her. That was another thing I planned to change once the theater was making money again—an increase in everyone’s pay.

The sprawling white two story Colonial home sat on a well-maintained plot of land. No other houses could be seen from here. It was just rolling hills and trees at the back and sides of the property. It was well-past midnight by this point, and the house’s dark windows told me the occupants were either asleep or not home. It didn’t matter either way, of course. Any humans inside wouldn’t see or hear me since I was planning on staying in the shadows between their world and mine.

I slipped through the darkness, entering the home like a ghost through a wall. Sure enough, all was quiet inside. A living room was directly on my left and closed doors were on my right. Stairs led to the second floor, and a hallway stretched farther into the house on either side. Since I’d be hanging around here often, thanks to my little obsession with Harper, I took my time looking around each room.

There were photos throughout the home of a seemingly close-knit Black family, and if it wasn’t for the few that included Harper with whom I assumed was the daughter of the family, I would’ve thought I had the wrong address on file for her.

I came to a room at the end of one wing of the home and was stunned to see an in-home ballet studio. The wall opposite the door was floor-to-ceiling mirrors. A portable barre stood in front of it. Speakers were in each corner of the ceiling with a stereo against the far left wall. Photos of Harper and the daughter of the family in ballet costumes were hung on the right. The images depicted the two girls all the way from toddlers, to teens, and into young adulthood.

Admiration for my human weaseled its way through me. Was I still annoyed that she wanted to lie about being attracted to me? Sure. But anyone who cared this much about their passion was worth appreciating.

Not worth forgetting what she’d said, though.

Determined to teach her a lesson, I spun on my heel to head for the stairs. The first bedroom I came to had the daughter of the home in it. She was tucked in bed, sleeping soundly. I swept farther down the hall and finally found who I was looking for.

Harper’s dark hair had been removed from the updo she’d worn with her costume. It fanned out on her cream-colored pillow, and my fingers itched to reach out and run through the strands. Her lips were parted as she slept with the duvet pulled all the way up to her shoulders, preventing me from seeing what my goddess liked to wear to bed.

“So this is your room,” I mused, even though she couldn’t hear me through the veil I hid in.

It was a decent size with carpeted floors, sheer curtains, a fluffy cream-colored bed, and a vanity. I went through her closet, taking note of her size for each article of clothing. No detail was too small when it came to knowing this human and making her mine. She had a stash of sex toys in the bottom drawer of her nightstand, and I mentally filed that away for later with a salacious chuckle.

With my inventory of her belongings done, I turned toward the reason I was here. I stood directly next to her and stared down at her sleeping face. She truly was beautiful, and the chemistry we’d had was near tangible. So why deny what we both knew?

“Not your type?” I sneered, my lip curling.

I hovered my palm over her closed eyes and let my own fall shut as I searched her mind for her desires. As an Incubus, I couldn’t read people’s minds; however, I could search them for their sexual fantasies and kinks.

The minute I tapped into hers, I smiled, and my dick twitched.

Masked men chasing her down and ravaging her.

Being degraded and called names.

Getting bound tightly and thoroughly fucked.

My goddess craved being dominated and not always knowing who was doing it.

“You want to be my slut, Goddess?” I purred, despite her not being able to hear me.

I materialized from the shadows, still standing next to her. With a jerk of my chin, the blanket slid down her body, exposing the pink silk tank top and pajama shorts she wore. I groaned at the sight and palmed my dick through my costume. She shifted at the sudden loss of warmth and rolled onto her back with a sigh.

I carefully and quietly climbed on top of her so that my knees pressed into the mattress on either side of her sleeping form. I hovered over her and pulled the bottom of my greek tunic up while shoving my boxers down to free my straining cock. With my eyes locked on her slumbering face, I gripped my hard dick and stroked it slowly.

“You wanna be defiled, beautiful whore?” I groaned as I worked my aching shaft. “Good. Because I am going to fucking wreck you.”

I pictured those pink lips wrapped around my dick as those defiant blue eyes glared up at me. Her manicured nails would dig into my thighs as I forced my length deeper into her mouth and down her throat. She’d moan and gag like a bad girl, and when I spilled myself on her tongue, she’d smile and thank me.

I pumped my fist harder and sucked in a breath through my teeth as the pleasure built at the base of my shaft. I thrust my hips into my hand in the same way I’d drive it into her pussy, and with the sweet mental image of her spread open for me, I came. Ribbons of cum shot from my cock and painted her chest and the front of her tank top.

Grinning as I caught my breath, I righted my clothes and got to my feet beside the bed once more. I pulled the covers back over her body, cum and all, and whispered, “That’s a little gift with a promise of what’s to come. Don’t lie to a demon unless you’re prepared to deal with the consequences, human.”