Page 46 of An Unexpected Ascension
“I told you I would do no such thing.”
“It wasn't a request.”
“I’m not going to H-E-L-L.”
He chuckles at the childishness of spelling his world. “Relax, I won’t take you to Hell – yet.”
My eyes linger on his outstretched hand before me, black ink covering nearly every bit of his skin.
Only, I don’t trust the demon. With my gaze brought back to his, my hand rushes to open the door in a flurry of commotion, allowing me to bolt down the street. His haunting chuckle is distanced, my running only causing amusement rather than annoyance.
To hide from this demon who’s been given rights to walk the lands of Heaven is nearly impossible. Passing grey stone house after grey stone house, I begin to wonder if I’m doomed. Will the saints in Saint’s Rowe save me if I beg for it – a sinner? Will they cast him away, demand he go back to where he came from, or will they cower in the presence of evil?
I don’t get the chance to find out as the back of my shirt is twisted into a fist, the force of the yank hurling me backward. Before I can hit the ground, the world around me spins and in a flash we’re gone. One blink, one blink is all it takes as I open my eyes to the familiar darkness of the cave and the sound of crashing waters.
“It’s in bad form to piss off a demon.”
Hermes crowds me against the cave wall as my surroundings continue to spin, my stomach churning with the sudden transition from my neighborhood to Galsip Falls.
“What are you going to do?” I ask, my words masked with faux bravery.
“I could ruin you before your God. Ruin you so thoroughly he’d be happy to let me take you.”
“Ruin me how?”
He sinks his face lower, the heat of his mouth flush against mine. My heart beats wildly inside my chest at the forbidden touch. Fear licks my soul, my skin pebbling with fright at the sheer consequences of this very act.
The demon’s tongue parts my lips, stealing refuge where it is not welcome, yet my body melts. His breath isn’t made from fire, but pure poison, rotting my resolve with ease. His fingers wrap around my throat in a necklace of control, stapling me against the cave as his knee slips between my thighs.
“Stop.” I groan breathlessly, but neither of us do.
Instead, a rough, abrasive hand snakes down my body. Fingers scrape over the swell of my breast, then just beneath the hem of my shirt. Heat blooms as his touch caresses the bare skin of my belly.
“You’re going to fall so hard,” the demon whispers, his lower lip dragging along the crook of my neck.
Touch me.
My hands unglue themselves from the rock behind me, slowly inching toward the demon of their own volition. They twitch, the muscles straining to refrain, but my mind is clouding with every second that passes.
“What does that even mean?” I manage to ask as my own fingers slide across hard muscle just above the waistband of his jeans.
“I’ll show you.”
In a swirling flash, the cave contorts as I’m thrown to the ground, too close to the cliff’s edge for comfort. I’m not given the chance to recover. The Demon drops to his knees and crawls on top of me, wedging himself between my legs. Black ink stares back at me, unearthly designs twisting along a corded neck. For a moment, I lose focus on my purpose as my eyes trail each line and stroke of foreignsymbols. For a moment, I forget that the demon is hovering over me, tucked between my thighs, his forearms on either side of my head.
My eyes finally snap up, a little strand of his bangs falling forward into his face, then his mouth comes crashing down on mine. Our teeth clash in a brutal pursuit to claim domination.
“When was it the last time you were touched? Your body seems to yearn for it desperately.”
Razor sharp incisors sink into my lower lip, dragging my flesh into his mouth. A metallic taste flavors my tongue and swims between my teeth. The pain draws a whimper from my throat, and he licks it away. I have half a mind to sock him right on the side of his head, but those mind-numbing whispers draw me back in.
I know I should be stopping him, but my skin is on fire and my belly aches with a lust I haven’t felt in years – well before death.
His fingertips tease the hem of my shorts, seeing how far his persuasion goes. The challenge in his eyes makes my heart stutter and I breathe in his dark chuckle, swallowing his malicious intent.
“Stop!” I finally force out.
“I don’t think you really want me to. Look at you—” he drags his gaze from my flushed face down to where his hand plays with the button on my shorts, “—you’re aching for it. I can smell how badly you want me between your legs. What would your God think of you? Dirty, dirty sinner.”
