Page 15 of Demon Stalked
The demonic chaos within me claims her selfishly, and I lean down and kiss her as I fly with her in my arms. I give her a soft kiss, but she quickly takes control, demanding more, and I have to pull away with a gasp.
I want to do more; I want to do everything. I want to touch those hard nipples, flick the tips, engulf those gorgeous breasts in my hands and then slide down to her heat, which I know will already be slick with want after what she witnessed.
I resist those urges. I can’t. I fly down to her hotel and set her feet gently on her balcony, hovering in front of her.
We’re back at the same moment you left,I sign to Katrina, so she won’t be worried about Adam.Going through the veil pauses time here.
Thank you,she signs.
For what?I sign in return, wondering how things went so horribly wrong. But I should have known. It’s Hell. It likes to fuck with everyone’s plans.
Thank you for showing me your world. It was so special.She gives me a soft smile.
And my heart melts—along with all my good intentions to protect her.
6
RAZ
This is fucking bullshit! Katrina won’t even look at me in class. I’ve tried at least five times to get her into my office, but she refuses to do more than step into the doorway.
I don’t know if she could tell my plan. The second she stepped inside, I was going to lock the door, pull the blinds, and shove her up against the wall, digging my hands underneath those tiny gym shorts and teasing her until she came on my fingers. Then I’d smack her ass and send her off to class with wet panties.
But whenever I call her over, she keeps those gorgeous blue eyes plastered to the floor, murmuring “Yes, sir” in a way that gets me so damn hard, I can hardly think straight. She does the same thing this morning, when she tiptoes into class, like I won’t notice her.
Not notice her? She’s like a fucking beacon. The first time I saw her in person, I had to distract myself with the goddamned mail, because I couldn’t let the guys know this was our Center and I was afraid that looking directly at her would give it away. I was afraid that my eyes would soften and I’d give into the temptation to trace her cheek softly and tempt her into a soft, delicious kiss.
I hadn’t wanted them to know. I hadn’t wanted them to turn on her. Hurt her.
Today is somehow worse than yesterday. Maybe because I searched for her last night too and couldn’t find her anywhere. She looks twice as good as normal today. I can see the hint of a red bra peeking through her white gym shirt, and I want to groan in appreciation. I wonder if her panties match.
I stand in front of her class as they line up on either side of the basketball court, trying not to drag my eyes too obviously over her slim white thighs, checking her hips for panty lines and simultaneously scolding my dick and telling him to stand down.
I forget the directions for dodgeball. The whole damn class is staring at me, and I forget what the hell the rules are, standing there blankly with a ball in my hands as all these awkward teenagers stand around waiting.
I pop the ball whenthat idiot, William Washington, sidles up to my girl,my Center, and slings an arm around her shoulders.
The only reason he lives is because Katrina ducks out from under his arm and fakes a stomach cramp. She runs off to the girls’ locker room.
Yesss. She’s alone. Finally.
I end up just blowing the whistle and saying, “You know the rules. Play!”
I leave the idiots to their throwing, walk into my office, and immediately out into the gym foyer through a second door on the side of my desk. I glance around, heart beating quickly, to make sure there’s no one watching. Then I shove open the door to the girls’ locker room.
The locker room here is dull and cement-colored, but smells less than the guys’. The communal showers are tiled in a pale peach instead of a dull green, but otherwise, they’re nearly identical. I round a corner to the changing area that’s filled with wooden benches and lined with lockers.
My mate is sitting on a wooden bench, head reclined against a row of grey lockers, her pink curls tumbling over her shoulders. Her eyes are closed, the lashes softly splayed out over her delicate pink cheeks.
My heart stumbles at the sight of her, skipping a beat. She’s so damn beautiful.
I’m in front of her before the door to the locker room slams shut.
I kneel in front of those soft knees of hers, my hands curling over her ankles at the same moment that the door smacks into the frame.
Those doe eyes fly open, and she panics, pulling back from me. But I close my hands over those delicate ankles.
Part of my mind immediately imagines spreading those ankles apart so I can see those creamy thighs spread wide in front of me, just like…
