Page 22 of Vengeance and Vipers

‘Take off your shirt,’ I mutter, and his eyes cut to me.

‘Why?’

‘Because my highlight reel sucks,’ I say, ‘and even though you’re nuts, you’re still a hot as hell incubus.’

He grins at me, practically preening under my gaze. He rips off the rags that cover him, baring his chiseled body, his eyes not leaving mine.

‘Like what you see?’ he drawls.

My eyes move over him, following the contours of his biceps and pecks, down to the muscles of his abs and the V that leads lower.

‘Yes,’ I breathe.

‘Watch me then.’

My eyes widen as he unbuttons his pants and pulls out his already hard shaft. He fists it, leaning against the bars and touching himself as he stares at me.

It should repulse me. But it doesn’t. Not at all.

I watch his movements, and my fingers slip down beneath the band of my underwear and find my slit, pulling it open a little and settling two fingers on my clit. I start moving them in circles, zings already making my hips want to move, too.

I widen my legs, dropping them off the side of the stone slab to hold myself wide.

He groans, his hand moving a little faster, his unblinking eyes taking in not just my movements but my face, too.

‘Fuck yourself with your fingers and pretend they’re mine,’ he instructs, and my eyes fall close as I imagine just that.

But my jeans are in the way.

I kick them off with a sound of frustration, settling back down, making sure the blankets are in place, and spreading my legs wide. My fingers work my clit faster, and I shove a finger inside my pussy. It’s already not enough, so I immediately add a second, thrusting them into myself and pretending it’s Krase.

I imagine him over me, holding me down, forcing himself into me even if I’m not ready, making me do what he wants, telling me to take it like a good girl.

Fuck!

My eyes open to see him pulling at his thick, hard cock, his hand squeezing it, his eyes closed as he pants. My gaze focuses on his dick, and I imagine it fucking me instead of my fingers, adding a third. The delicious pain of the stretch makes me moan, and I come suddenly, my hips bucking as I work myself hard and cry out loudly, the sound echoing through the chamber.

He follows not a second later, grunting and growling that I might be a thieving little bitch, but at least I’m hot, and I grin in spite of myself, collapsing under the blanket and pulling my fingers out of myself.

My head rolls to the side, and I look at him. He’s still watching me. I’m still the center of his attention, and I like it. I show him the three fingers I used to fuck myself, and, very slowly, I put each one in my mouth, licking them clean.

His shocked face is priceless, but the expression that settles over him afterward is sated and predatory … andadmiring?

‘Was that good?’ I ask breathily, still in the throes of my submissive imaginings, I guess.

‘Very good,’ he purrs. The sharp intake of breath that I try to muffle has his eyes boring into mine.

‘Very good girl,’ he murmurs, cocking his head to the side as if trying to gauge my reaction. I try not to give him one, coming out of the sex stupor now and not wanting to give him any more of me.

He watches me as I put my jeans back on under the blanket and refasten them. I go to jump off the stone, though, and my knees give out. I grasp onto the stone with one hand, trying to make them work.

When I turn around, the bowl is still where he left it on the floor. I approach warily because he still hasn’t moved, although I notice he’s put his dick away.

‘Gonna stick to the deal?’ I ask, looking into his eyes and finding them surprisingly clear.

He looks at the bowl. ‘Yes,’ he whispers. ‘That was exactly what I needed.’

He takes a step back so that I can grab it, but at the last second, he darts forward, grabbing my arms and pulling me to him. I struggle with a cry.