A Very Demon Christmas [Demon Hunters 1] (9 page)

She dropped her lashes in a natural response to his dominance. Dozens of submissives had done exactly the same thing, but when Holly showed him respect, he felt as if he had wings, as if he were ten feet tall and more powerful than any full-blood demon.

"My mother was very young when she had me. She was delicate—slender. I must take after my father.” Holly laughed self-consciously. “He was in the service, deployed, and never made it home. Mom went downhill, drank more, and ate less. Finally, when I was six, she had one of those one-car accidents, you know? It was her versus an overpass support column in a head-on collision. She lost."

Colin cupped her neck and let his thumb trace the soft, soft skin over her artery. Her chin quivered, and she curled into him like a kitten seeking warmth.

One small hand clutched his arm. Then she instantly released him. “I'm so sorry. I forgot about your bad arm. Are you all right?"

He captured her head and guided her back to his shoulder. “That's my good arm—I'm left-handed, and I'm fine. Fast healer, remember?"

Her lips parted to answer him, but he put an end to any more conversation with a kiss that went from his good intention to reassure her, to an absolutely raw hunger in a frightening burst of demon speed. He needed every bit of strength he possessed to pull away from the delicious cocoa-mint flavor of her silken mouth.

When he broke the kiss, he tried for some of the charm and romance women liked, but his voice had deepened to a hoarse growl of demand. “Stay here with me."

"For tonight?"

Forever, or at least until I figure out how to protect you.
Instead of lying, he kissed the question right out of her mouth and damn near erased his own mind. As he slipped into the seductive world of training his little slave, he let his natural dominance work for him. He issued a demand. “Call me Master."

"If I do, will you let me come?” Holly begged. She was already breathless with an arousal so potent he could smell it. Hot color flared from where his robe framed her creamy cleavage.

"Like you wouldn't believe, baby."

"This time I want to touch you, Master."

He traced the color from her rosy cheeks, along her stubborn jaw, then let his fingers drift along the side of her neck. Stopping to thumb the vulnerable hollow at the base of her throat, he followed the color trail until he skimmed the plump inner curve of her breasts and moved down to rasp against the taut nipples begging for his caress. “Setting terms, slave?"

Her eyes lowered until they reached his groin. She paused, then licked her lips with sensual swipes of her pink tongue. “Asking, just asking, Master."

Keenly aware how wonderful that hot tongue would feel on his aching cock and balls, he decided he had enough discipline to handle protecting her while teaching her about the pleasure found in submission. “Lose the robe."

Holly tried to edge away from him, but he captured her nape again, holding her in place. “Take it off right here, right now, baby."

"Yes, Master."

After the black silk pooled around her hips, he inspected her red lace outfit. “Very pretty, but I prefer you naked. Strip."

This time, she stayed next to him as she contorted herself unfastening the corset. Her cheeks were almost as red as the lingerie by the time she skimmed the fragrant, damp panties down her long, long legs. Then she reached to grasp a heel.

"Leave the shoes.” There was something about a naked woman, especially one as gorgeous as Holly, wearing nothing except high heels that did it for him big time. But when it came to this woman, fuzzy bunny slippers would've wound him tighter than a Swiss watch.

He carefully laid her on the couch and tucked one of the loose pillows under her perfect ass.

When she pressed her knees together, he growled, “Keep your thighs spread."

Tossing a cushion on the floor, he dropped to his knees and draped her legs over his shoulders before settling in to feast. He parted her swollen outer lips and held them open to lick her from her beaded clit, through the delicate ruffles of her inner folds, around the mouth of her cunt, and then across her perineum. On the return trip, he lingered at her clit, teasing the taut bundle of sensation with lazy licks of his tongue along each side, over the top where the small hood had retracted, and around to the smooth base. Once he'd finished tormenting her tiny rod of need, he started the erotic trek over again—in reverse. A generous mouthful of fresh cocoa-flavored cream slid down his throat.

Idly, he wondered if she used some special soap, or maybe a particular food made her juices taste like cocoa with a trace of mint. Whatever produced the flavor, he hoped she kept doing it. He couldn't get enough of her sweetness. Lost in her addictive taste, the soft slide of his tongue over her delicate petals, and the warm press of her smooth inner thighs against his ears, he didn't hear her pleas until she turned up the volume.

"Harder, faster, please."

"Please what?"

She bucked, trying to get more contact with his face. “Please, Master."

Leaning farther away from the taste he craved, because he needed to control her pleasure more than he needed to swallow her cream, he slid two fingers into her wet channel. She moaned as he wet his thumb in her honey, then circled the furled rosebud of her rear passage. He held his hand still, letting her tight sheath milk his fingers. Her back hole slowly eased under his patient steady pressure until the top joint of his thumb invaded her dark channel. When the clasp around his fingers grew faster and her hips jerked, he covered her clit with his mouth and sucked hard. A final tightening of both passages warned him that she was close to shattering.

His heart swelled with tender, unfamiliar feelings at the level of trust she honored him with when she came apart under his touch, at his command. He lifted his head long enough to growl, “Come for me, baby."

Then he dipped his head and gave her engorged clit a gentle nip.

As her climax gripped her, she screamed, “Master."

Easing the pressure on her tender tissues, he licked her delicate folds with slow, careful laps. Then he stroked her belly, thighs, and bottom until her aftershocks faded to small shivers of bliss. When her breathing had evened, he cupped her face and asked, “Do you remember the proper position for a slave to wait for her Master?"

She nodded against his hand. A vote of confidence that arrowed straight into his damn near mushy heart. He needed to keep his head in the game and his heart sealed against any weakness. But he was in a world of trouble, and he couldn't stop—couldn't even move a single step away. His voice deepened, and he growled like he was in control. “Assume the position."

Gracefully she slid off the couch to her knees, laced her hands behind her head, and spread her thighs. Tight rosy nipples topped her full creamy breasts and begged for his lips. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on her round little belly, disappearing into the crease between hip and thigh. A trace of her fragrance—a combination of whatever soap or lotion she used and her own sweet cream—taunted his nose. A narrow strip of damp dark blonde curls clung to the outer lips of her swollen vulva. He swallowed to keep from drooling, toed off his boots and socks, and then stood. After he unbuttoned his jeans, he worked carefully to ease the zipper over the ache of his bare erection.

Holly's hot stare and the distracting licks of her pink tongue made his balls tighten and his cock throb like it had its own rhythm section. As he freed himself from the denim, he knew exactly when she saw the rest of his demon markings. Her eyes rounded to tumbler size.

He was irrationally proud of the soft plumage cushioning his sex. But he'd always been very careful to conceal this intimate air demon sign when he had sex, always taking his partners from behind. Even if they caught a glimpse, his ability to read thoughts, erase memories, and command obedience kept his true nature private. Now, his breath caught while he waited for Holly's reaction to his only real feathers.

A sigh of unmistakable longing puffed from her lips. “May I please touch you, Master?"

"Only with your mouth,” he said firmly, because he flat-out couldn't trust his control if she took him in her soft hands.

She leaned forward eagerly, letting the tip of her pink tongue flick over the tender slit of his engorged shaft. Even the tip of her tongue was so damn erotic. He clenched his jaw and thought about sparring to keep his climax from erupting.

More sighs, whimpers, and feminine moans of pure need made holding still for her unpracticed exploration a whole lot harder with each tentative caress. She licked her way to the base of his cock, buried her nose in his plumage, and exhaled. The soft rush of air ruffled his intimate feathers, his balls ached with the need to explode, and precum leaked from his cock.

Before the first drop fell, Holly captured his hot juice. When she covered his shaft with her mouth, sucking and gently nibbling under the rim of his crown, he groaned and began thrusting into her soft mouth. Small sounds of distress hummed around his cock.

He ground out, “Relax your throat and keep swallowing. You can take all of me, slave."

As he slid deeper, her throat muscles tightened around his cockhead, and the release that he'd held off since he first saw her at the club detonated—flooding her mouth with his cum.

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Holly greedily swallowed the stream of hot dark chocolate blasting from her Master's erection. His delicious taste was even stronger in his sperm, and she savored every drop, letting the exotic flavor roll on her tongue and slip down her throat. Tiny traces of her favorite green tea were more noticeable in the aftertaste. She couldn't get enough of his touch, his scent, his taste—him.

A lifetime of boring, sensible choices versus one exciting and very dominant demon? No contest. The demon won. Pleasing him, serving him, aroused her more than sex with any other man, at least those she'd known. She hadn't known many, but none of them made her shatter with a single word. And then there was something beyond delicious about his sperm. The seed acted like an elixir, heating and thrilling her in strange, new, and wonderful ways. Even better, she'd felt him ease. His erection softened only a tiny bit, but tension flowed out of his rigid body, and for a moment, he'd seemed almost at peace.

When he moved away and tucked himself back into his jeans, a sliver of the sensible nurse she used to be woke up enough to talk. “I'm healthy. I'm tested every year. It's an...occupational hazard.” She averted her gaze but found enough courage to deliberately omit his proper title, adding, “I haven't been with anyone in a long time."

"What's a long time, slave?"

Her cheeks warmed with discomfort, but there was a challenge in his deep voice that compelled her to answer him properly. “Years—six years, Master."

More than a little irritated that his voice alone seemed to erase her will, when he didn't say anything, she prodded him again, “How about you, Master?"

"Couple of weeks.” He pulled his jeans up, tucked in his package with an oddly tender scooping motion, closed the zipper, and fastened the waistband.

Defensively, she reached for the robe, covering herself. She had asked him indirectly, but now she really wished she hadn't. Of course, she hadn't expected that he lived like a monk, but his casual
"Couple of weeks"
bothered her and was not the kind of information she'd hoped he would share. Her disappointment that he wasn't celibate was unreasonable, which didn't do a thing to lessen her unhappiness. She bit back more questions she didn't want answered and snapped, “I meant are you healthy, Master?"

"Don't worry. You can't catch anything from me, and my demon blood protects me from every human disease."

"Really?” This revelation almost erased the hateful image of him tying up some other woman at the club. Her thoughts shifted to the potential implications for medical science. What a boon the study of demon physiology would be for mankind. “Is anyone working on identifying the ways the demon immune system differs from a human's, Master?"

"Not happening. The first objective for every demon is to stay off the mortal world's grid,” he said flatly.

"But think of the lives that could be saved, the needless suffering ended.” She paused, tempted to try rebellion again, but couldn't quite bring herself to omit his title. She added the slightly tardy but respectful, “Master."

"Demons hunted to extinction,” he countered with a scowl.

All right, she could understand a fear of persecution might make him wary. “But you're faster, stronger—"

"And seriously outnumbered. If humans find out about us, it'll be the Salem witch trials happening again, except the hunt will involve tasers, rocket launchers, and smart bombs."

"Are witches real too, Master?"

He just shook his head.

Did that mean they weren't real or that he was done talking? “Tell me, please. I need to understand, Master."

"Understanding is way overrated. Put a lid on your curiosity, and you'll live longer.” He spoke curtly, but he lifted her to his lap, tucked her head on his shoulder, and snuggled her tight against his hard body. His harsh tone softened to a gentle growl. “I want you to live forever."

His words tugged on tender feelings that blended with the heat racing through her veins, and the last of her sensible caution crumbled away.

She'd known him such a short time she shouldn't even think about love. Falling in lust was fine, but it was definitely a mistake to dream of more. He'd told her that he never repeated with a slave, a plain warning not to hope the Master of her reckless heart would ever want her as his permanent slave.

Still, she could enjoy the present moment when he commanded her and every cell in her body, and she burned to serve him. Even though his package was confined by his tight jeans, she couldn't miss his impressive erection, which had grown as thick and hard as if he'd never climaxed. Her mouth watered for more of his delicious chocolate taste. “Will you teach me how to please you, Master?"

"Shhh, you please me just by breathing. Lose the robe. Then be quiet and let me hold you.” He slowly stroked her from the top of her head to her ankles, and then he even took off her shoes and massaged her feet.