Page 2 of Ex-Mas
He sounds closer now, but as I reach in the direction I feel his presence, my hand finds nothing but air.
Holy shit.
I did it.
I summoned a fucking demon.
Glee, disbelief and fear all war for my attention as I clear my throat. “I want you to rape a rapist.” My eyes are so wide they’re stinging, but I still can’t see anything as hisenergy seems to shift around me. I spin to keep up. “I want him to know how it feels.”
I feel his laugh as much as I hear it. “Maybe it’s you who should be the demon here.”
Suddenly, he’s standing before me, candles lit once again, and I gasp when I see him. “Ardis?” I knew the lead singer of my favorite band was a badass, but I didn’t think thedevilpart of Darling Devil was literal. “When the hell did you become a demon?”
“I always was.” He must have ditched the British accent somewhere along the way, because it’s nowhere to be heard right now. “And Ardis isn’t my real name. It’s Azazel.”
Huh?
Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “Like the weirdo fromSupernatural?Why aren’t your eyes yellow?”
“Would that make you feel more comfortable?” He flashes them yellow for me and then crosses his arms. “So tell me why this rapist is worth the cost.”
He's not worth anything, but how high can the price be? It's not like souls are real, and I'm already a killer. It wouldn't be that hard to do it again if the price is dirty work. “He assaulted me, and if he did it to me, he's doing it to others. He thinks he can get awaywith it because he's rich and owns a business and he only hires women who don't make very good witnesses. I just want him to know he's not untouchable.”
Azazel hums. “I like the way you think, Lysandra Sallow.”
I didn’t tell him my name, but I’m not surprised I didn’t have to. I’d almost be disappointed if I did.
“So there. You’ve got a demon cock, right? It has to be big. Rip his ass in half. Literally.”
The demon grins. “How big do you want it to be?”
Is that really something I can choose?
Before I can voice my question, his unbelievably warm hand is grabbing my own and pressing it against his crotch, his cock swelling as he watches my reaction.
It was big to begin with, but now... no human could take it and live to tell the tale.
It’s kinda hot.
“Alright, big boy. That’ll do.”
His pitch black eyes scan my face, amusement shining through as he leans in closer. “And how do we seal this deal, Lysie? What did they do in your little television show?”
“They kiss,” I say with a lump in my throat. Yes, this will be the only chance I ever get in my entire life to kiss Ardis Darling, but thisisn’tArdis Darling. This is a demon. An actual fucking demon. “But I’m sure we could just shake hands. I’d offer to shake cocks, but I don’t have one.”
“Do you want one?”
I feel something tingle where my clit is, and for a brief moment, I panic — but instead he just steps away with a laugh. “We can shake hands. But first...” He twists his wrist around and suddenly there’s a stack of papers in his hand that he’s holding out to me, like I can focus on anything but the fact that I almost just grew a demon dick.
“We’re not just breezing past that,” I argue. ”If you give me one, can you take it away again? I’d love to do a little helicoptering, maybe fuck my friend so she can finally have an orgasm she doesn’t have to give herself, dip it in chocolate just to see how it feels, stack a few donuts on it, pee standing up... but I don’t want to keep it. Can I like... donate it afterward to someone who actually wants to keep it? There are plenty of people out there who just can’t afford the surgery they need to feel at homein their bodies. Why aren’t you givingthemdicks?”
Tilting his head, he steps in closer to shove the papers into my hands. “I don’t do charity. I can make some tweaks to our contract if you’d like to have some fun with me, but I will not give you a cock to fuck someone else with. I don’t see how that benefits me.”
So he’s either selfish or jealous, which are both interesting. I didn’t consider that demons had feelings at all. “Fine,” I concede, taking the contract and looking around my barely-lit room for a pen. “I don’t have to sign in blood or something stupid, do I?”
“Your fingerprint will do.”
In a flash, his sharp canine is sinking into my thumb so deeply, blood begins to pool and drip down the palm of my hand. The way he licks the taste off his lips makes me shiver more than the strange, radiating pain, but it also... never mind. Not even I’m that fucking weird. “Oh. So yes, I do have to sign in blood.” Grumbling, I push the bleeding pad of my thumb on the signature line and hand the papers back. “Why are there so many?”
