Page 56 of Bad Demon

His job because I’d forced him to do it, to be with me.

“Right.”

“You’re shaking,” he said in that extremely rough voice. “You need soothing?”

I knew he was here with me now because he had no other choice, but I did need that. I really fucking did, no matter how dangerous it felt for so many reasons.

“Yes, I think I do.”

He moved closer, just the tiniest bit, and my mouth watered, and my pussy ached, and my vision sharpened.

His massive chest expanded, and his nostrils flared. “You’re the boss, Fern. Tell me what you need, and I’m here to obey.”

He could smell how turned on I was—he was a hound, so there was no way he couldn’t—but I was too lost in the turbulent feelings running through my body to care.

“I’m yours to command,” he said when I didn’t answer right away.

His declaration was like a slap in the face. I was starved, turned on in a way I never had been in my life, but I would never take advantage of the power I held over him. I knew what that felt like—I’d experienced it over and over again—and I’d never do that to someone else.

“I want to go home,” I choked out past my scratchy, tight throat. “I’m tired. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

His golden eyes studied mine, and then slowly, he nodded. “You can’t go home, baby—you know that.” Then he took my hand and led me to the clubhouse.

By the time we reached his room, I was trembling. The sound of blood pumping through his veins had me salivating, and his … sweet Lucifer, his scent was making me hot and trembly, and that ache between my thighs wasn’t going away—no, it was only intensifying.

I rushed to the bathroom and shut the door.

“Fern?” Relic called through the wooden barrier between us, and that deep, growly voice only made the ache, the need, worse.

“Don’t come in. I’m getting in the shower.”

I turned on the water, then all but tore off my clothes. My skin was too hot—fuck, it burned. The throb between my legs didn’t ache anymore; it hurt so bad that I whimpered. I stepped under the cold spray, but it did nothing to cool me down. My potion had all but worn off, and it sure as hell wasn’t helping the out-of-control feelings building inside me.

My hand went between my thighs, and I pressed my palm against my aching flesh. I normally avoided this for more than one reason, but right now, there was no way I could ignore the need pounding through me, distract myself, or exercise until I passed out—not this time. Resting my forehead against the shower wall, I spread my pussy with one hand and worked my clit with the other. Usually, I kept my eyes open so memories didn’t invade my mind, but this time, I let them drift closed. I tried to think about Fender and that female and the things they had been doing, but no matter how hard I tried not to think about Relic, that was who kept invading my mind. It wasn’t Fender on his knees; it was Relic. It wasn’t some random female sitting on the desk; it was me—my thighs held wide, my pussy being licked and sucked.

I bit my lip and tried to hold back my moan so Relic wouldn’t hear when the first orgasm quickly rolled through me, making me shudder and turning my knees to jelly. I cupped myself but stopped rubbing. I kept the images playing through my head, letting my need build once more. My sensitive clit needed to recover for a moment before I carried on. Finally, slowly, I began again, building myself back up until I was panting, rocking my hips, imagining Relic behind me, slamming into me, his mouth at my ear, his growls rumbling through his chest, vibrating through me. I whimpered, gasping for air, so I didn’t cry out when I came a second time.

Breathing heavily, I did what I had before, cupped myself without pressure, allowing images of Relic to fill my head because it was the only thing that worked. I knew it was dangerous to think about him like that, but I couldn’t stop now. I started again, building back up, but the familiar panicky feeling filled me as I rubbed my clit, trying to get there again.

I was sweaty, hot, desperately trying to come, but I couldn’t.

Just wait. Give it a few minutes, then try again.

I worked at slowing my breathing, at forcing down the panic.

Two more. Just two more, then you can sleep.

I started again, gently circling my clit, but it was extremely sensitive, and it wasn’t working. Nothing was working.

I shook harder. I just had to wait a bit longer.

Self-loathing filled me, followed by shame.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Angry tears welled in my eyes as I tried again, until I felt raw and it hurt. I covered my pussy with a washcloth and tried again over the top of it, but it wasn’t fucking working.

You stupid fucking bitch. Now, look what you did. You couldn’t just not touch yourself? Are you that much of a slut that you couldn’t just not play with yourself? Dirty fucking whore.

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