Page 8 of The Devil and His Goddess

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, Icouldsearch 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 fuckingwreckyou.”

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.”

Chapter 4

Harper

I FINISHED SCRUBBING AT MY top in the sink and held it up. The dried substance was gone, and my skin was clean now, too. My torso had been covered in a white, driedsomethingwhen I woke up, and I was baffled as to what it could’ve been. I swore it looked like dried cum, but there was no way, seeing as I’d gone to bed partnerless.

That wasn’t the only thing bothering me that morning. I’d woken up to another text from …someone. I still didn’t have a clue who my distant admirer was. The person had been reaching out to me for two years now, and I was no closer to figuring out their identity.

The interactions had started two years ago when I got a silent voicemail from an unknown number. I’d disregarded it, even as they became more frequent. Eventually, the person left one that contained the unmistakable sounds of breathy groans and fleshy slaps, like they were masterbating on the call. That one had unnerved me enough to go to the police, but there wasn’t anything they could do. The person wasn’t threatening me, so I was sent home with an invitation to come back if I was in “real” danger.

The voicemails were sporadic and came at random times of the day. Sometimes I’d get them multiple times a week, and other times, I wouldn’t hear anything for a month.

The silent and sexual voicemails stopped being enough for whoever it was, because they started sending texts, too. They’d shower me with compliments or tell me something they’d like to do to me. Each message had aggravation unleashing in my stomach, but I still dismissed a lot of it. For two years, it had only been voicemails and texts, which had me questioning how serious it was. A large part of me was convinced it was one of my teenage brother’s friends messing with me. Horny teen boys were like that—dumb.

This morning’s text had been one word.

Beautiful.

Just as I did all their messages, I deleted it with an annoyed mumble. “Stupid teenagers.”

With a sigh, I gave up on the mystery of the cum-like substance on my clothes and the mystery texter, hanging up my pajama set to dry. I made my way downstairs and was thrilled to see Aiysha already down there and pressing brew on the coffee pot.

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