Page 61 of The Devil's Dilemma

I didn’t have to wait long.

Fuck, he was hot with his black horns and glowing orange eyes, streaks of blood running down his face. Why I found that such a turn-on, I didn’t know. He took my breath away, but this time in a good way.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, his jaw clenched. He rolled his shoulders, but I stood my ground.

“I should kill you… again.” He opened his eyes. I’d never seen them so dark, almost red now.

I’d angered him to elicit a response, and by God, I’d got one.

“You will kneel before me.”

“Fuck off. I’ll do no such thing.”

“Why do you defy me? Remember how I killed Joel? One click of my fingers and you would know no more. Is that what you want?”

Why did I take such pleasure from aggravating him? He’d had his chance to put his money where his mouth was.

But I was still standing. If he had any intention or inclination to kill me again, he would have done it by now. Wouldn’t he?

Unless, of course, his pleasure was torture, and that excited me more than I cared to think about.

“Kneel. I won’t tell you again.”

Against my wishes, I found myself on my knees. I tried to stand, but my limbs refused to move.

“Is this what gets you off? Forcing people to do your will.” I gritted my teeth.

He laughed, startling me with its ferocity.

“You know nothing.” He spat the words, and despite the racing of my heart, I was so hard it was painful.

His nose had stopped bleeding, and if not for the blood on his face, you’d not know anything had happened.

Whereas anyone else would have bruised or have a swollen nose, he looked as perfect as he had before. Immortal beings healed quickly, it seemed.

He undid his belt and released the button of his trousers.

I licked my lips and smiled.

His hands faltered, but then he continued to remove his shirt, revealing his muscular chest, defined abs, and deep chiselled V-lines. His arms were thick, his hands huge.

A trail of hair led from his belly button and into the front of his trousers.

He was the perfect specimen.

He toed off his shoes and slipped his cargo trousers off with ease, leaving him standing in just his briefs.

If anyone had told me I’d be kneeling before the devil and that he wore black briefs, I’d have laughed in their face.

But right here and now, I wasn’t laughing.

I was salivating, my fingers tingling with the need to touch him.

I parted my legs and sat back on my heels, showing him without words what his exhibition was doing to me.

I stroked the insides of my thighs, letting my hands linger at my groin. I burnt with desire for him, shocked by the ferocity of my feelings.

I craved his touch, even though I knew it wouldn’t be gentle.

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