Demon from the Dark (Immortals After Dark #10)(42)

He’d never know what thing she would do next.

With that in mind, he let her guide him to stand, cooperating when she coaxed him to lift his arms, palms against the rock face so water from above would run down over his head.

She knelt behind him, then took the cloth to his feet, working her way up his calves, her destination unmistakable. Would she touch his member? Run her hot, soapy hands over it? When her breast rubbed against his leg, his claws dug deep into the stone beside his head.

This position reminded him of being flogged—or worse. But the torture he’d known before merely had to be endured. Now he had to deny what he wanted more than anything he’d ever known.

Each of her touches made his cock strain painfully, every graze as tormenting to him as the bite of a whip.

His seed was rising, feeling like it would erupt against his will. And with it, his demon instinct began burning inside him again. Thoughts of tossing her to the ground ran riot. Of pinning her arms over her head as he plunged his cock betwixt her legs. He imagined tying her wrists behind her back, then laving her sex like an animal at drink . . . .

When her hands reached above his knees, he gnashed his teeth and rammed one of his horns against the rock. Pain tempered his pleasure, buying him precious seconds.



A week ago, if someone had told Carrow that she’d be worshipping a wild-man vemon’s naked body, kneeling before it, she’d have laughed.

But worshipping was exactly what she was doing, entranced by every rigid inch of him.

At first, she’d been methodical. Yet then she’d slowed her movements, helpless not to appreciate the masculine perfection of his body—the hollows at the sides of his rock-hard ass, the corded thigh muscles, the sharp rises and falls of his chiseled abs. Those pecs were made for a woman’s nails to dig into.

His tan skin was dusted with golden-blond hair on his chest, arms, and legs. A trail of it descended from his navel to the slightly darker hair at his groin.

His shaft protruded from between his lean hips like a rod, his testicles heavy and begging to be fondled.

Carrow couldn’t remember ever being this aroused in her entire life. This demon was raw, uncivilized—and he was making her melt.

By the time she reached his upper thighs, his body was thrumming. She thought he was holding his breath. Instead of touching him higher, she stood and began soaping his lower back and ass, his muscles tensing to her fingertips. He exhaled with disappointment.

Biting her lip, she reached around to work on his lower torso. His stomach dipped and flexed as she ran the cloth down that trail of golden hair. Again, just when she was about to reach his groin, she stopped.

Playing a dangerous game. His low groan grew nearly constant. He glanced over his shoulder down at her. His eyes had turned black once more, gleaming like onyx.

He was about to blow. If he lost control, he might hurt her again, but with a couple of quick strokes, the demon would be done. Time to “wash” between his legs.

With light kisses over his back, she reached down to gently soap his heavy testicles from behind. He jerked, uneasy. Had no woman ever touched him there? Or had it simply been so long ago? She felt sadness to think of him being exiled here by himself for ages.

Tonight she would give him pleasure like he’d never known. Something to remember you by, Carrow?

Tamping down the thought, she slipped her hand around his waist, seeking his shaft. She wrapped her fingers around it as best as she could, biting back a moan at the feel of those piercings against her palm.

At her first touch, he jerked again, moving his legs out wider. Then he froze. Tension shot through him, and his erection faltered.

Something was very wrong, his emotions growing chaotic. She even detected . . . rage?

Just as she was releasing him to retreat, he swirled around, knocking her hold loose, his clenched hand hitting her bad wrist.

“Demon! You almost rebroke . . .” Words vanished when she glimpsed his face.

His expression was menacing, his fangs sharp. He snarled down at her.

As she backed away, eyes tearing at the pain, he shook his head hard, as if he were coming out of a trance.

Good for you, but I’m still bailing. She turned and hurried toward the side of the pool—

He looped his arm around her waist, dragging her against him. “Ara . . . Carrow, no,” he rasped brokenly. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. Now his erection came raring back to life, the crown prodding the bottom of her ass.

“Put me down!” The more she struggled, the more she rubbed the tip. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She flooded her body with power, shocking him like an electric fence.

“Carrow!” he bellowed, forced to release her.

Yet she’d barely taken two steps before he swooped her up again.

“You must like pain. However, I—do—not.” She shocked him again with even more juice. “Wish I could see the look on your face . . . .” She realized he was simply taking it, refusing to release her, so she turned up the volume to high. His forehead fell against her shoulder as he quaked with pain, but he wouldn’t let her go.

Soon she was defeated, left without power, and still he was standing. The next time I set out to hurt him, I’m going full guns, she vowed. She would put him down.

He turned her in his arms until they were facing each other, their chests pressed tightly together, his forearm under her ass.