Page 46 of The Incubus's Angel
I want to convey all the admiration I hold for her, tell her what I’m working on for her, but I also don’t want to say anything that might distract her focus from Doc Calla’s birthday cake.
“I can’t wait to see it,” I say simply, hoping she feels the meaning underlying it all.
Maisie sits up straighter, her eyes widening as she asks, “You want to taste it?”
My head bobs enthusiastically. “I’d love to.”
“Eat your dinner first and I’ll reward you with something sweet after,” Maisie teases. But as I spy the frosting smeared across her cheek, an idea pops into my head for how I can actually enjoy my dessert instead.
I tuck the thought away for the time being as Maisie and I settle into easy conversation. We chat while we eat, Maisie updating me on life at The Flowering Teapot, and me telling her about the game I’m about to submit next week.
When we’re done, Maisie clears our plates and returns with a seminaked cake that she places on the turntable in front of us.
“This is about half the size of what the base layer will be. It’s a vanilla bean sponge with a raspberry Swiss meringue buttercream. Want to taste the frosting first?”
I stand up to get a closer look and tip Maisie’s face up toward me. Swiping my thumb across her cheek, I gather some of the frosting there. I bring the buttercream to my mouth and lick the length of my thumb. “That’s really good. Sweet and creamy.”
Maisie sucks in a breath, her arousal blooming in the kitchen. I see the moment the same idea I have sparks in her mind too. She reaches for the piping bag—another term she’s taught me tonight—and pipes some more frosting onto her index finger.
Silently holding her finger up for me, I read the dare in her eyes.
Maisie doesn’t yet realize that I’m not backing down tonight. Not ever.
I bring her finger up to my lips, press a soft kiss to it, then suck the entire digit into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it to make sure I’ve got every last drop.
Maisie gasps shakily, her body swaying toward mine, but after a moment she wrests back control. With a tilt to her chin, she repeats the motion and pipes some onto her finger again.
Lifting her index finger up toward me, she smudges the frosting onto my neck. “Oops.”
Thrills shoot down my spine and straight into my already hard cock at where she’s taking this.
Hand on the zipper of my hoodie, I drag the slider down slowly, the crunching of the teeth separating the only other sound besides our shallow breaths. The air is thick with possibilities, a thread of expectation dancing between our darkened gazes.
I shrug my hoodie off and let it fall to the ground before tilting my head to the side, giving Maisie access to my neck.
Her nostrils flare, then she’s pushing onto her toes, one hand at the nape of my neck, the other on my waist, as she licks up the column of my throat. Her tongue is wet and warm, the sensation making my toes curl.
A gruff moan claws up my throat and the desire to pick Maisie up and carry her home so I can fuck her into oblivion flashes through me.
“You good?” Maisie asks, her voice husky and her pulse speeding in her throat.
“Yes. More.” I don’t know if it’s a request or a demand, but I can’t stop. My cock throbs and my balls ache with a desperate need I’ve never felt before.
A mischievous smirk pulls at Maisie’s mouth as she looks up at me through her lashes. Carefully, she lifts my shirt and pipes more frosting across my abs. Holding my eyes, she lowers herself to her knees, slowly leans forward, sticks out her tongue, and licks the frosting off.
“Hmmm,” she hums, nibbling at the skin just above my waistband, even with all the frosting now gone.
My hands tremble, my chest heaves, and my cock is harder than it’s ever been in my life.
“Maisie.” Her name is a whispered plea.
Eyes never straying from mine, Maisie places the buttercream on the table and reaches for my pants, her fingers curling around my waistband.
My heart rate ratchets up. I’ve craved Maisie’s touch for a long time but I’m so nervous about her seeing me, about her touching me, that I can’t help but hesitate.
I place my hands on top of hers, stilling her for a moment while I try to gather my thoughts. “It’s not… I’m… My cock… It’s not human.”
Understanding flashes in her eyes, but where I expect sympathy, Maisie simply smirks. “I didn’t expect it to be. You’re an incubus and I’m guessing you’ve got a sex monster hiding in here.”
