Demonic Attraction

Demonic Attraction

ISBN 9781419921568

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Demonic Attraction Copyright © 2009 Kim Knox

Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower

Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book Publication July 2009

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Demonic Attraction

Anya Sigurdson stripped off her service suit and threw it over the console chair. She stretched, her tired joints popping. Moonlight silvered her naked skin and her gaze darted over the great curve of the moon the science platform orbited.

A wry smile tugged at her mouth and she scratched at her tangled hair. She was at the end of her—what, sixtieth?—day on the Alpha-Volantis monitoring station with another thirteen days to go before she could head back for a brief week in civilization. She maintained the base so the lab rats back on Earth could monitor the giant white star’s monotonous activity. Lucky her.

“Almost over,” she murmured, her voice echoing around the metal and shielded dome of her bedroom. “And I promise, I will spend a week on Theta-Scorpii’s third planet being as depraved as humanly possible.”

She snorted and rolled her neck, easing out the kink from her spine. The array had a blip, an error, something that had her supervisor and his pet scientists squawking at her from a hundred and twenty light years away. She’d spent six hours chasing
absolutely bloody nothing
through the platform’s tight conduits. Anya let out a slow sigh. Yes, the pleasures of Theta-Scorpii-3 called to her aching body, where some hands other than her own would steal over her flesh to bring her pleasure.

Tension coiled in her belly and she groaned. Every part of her ached and she didn’t have the energy to find relief. Her bed stretched out under the curve of the clear outer shields. She dropped onto the cool mattress, tugged at the sheet and rolled onto her stomach. The rasp of the bed sheet teased her hard, aching nipples. Anya cursed and crushed her eyes shut, fighting to sleep.

The Academy of Sciences insisted on solitary assignments to their platforms. The reason given was too many staff engaged in illicit relationships that interfered with the performance of their duties. Anya snorted. Of course everyone knew it was the vindictive actions of the Academy’s director. His partner had fucked his way through his platform’s entire staff and the director hadn’t taken it at all well. So everyone else now had to suffer.

She shifted over the sheets and the tension grew worse. Anya groaned and cupped her breast, her fingers pinching her nipple, hard. She sucked in a breath, the ache in her pussy deepening. “Thirteen days,” she muttered. “Thirteen and I’ll have a cock there.” Her hand snaked between her legs, teasing, playing, trying to ease the empty ache. “Or a tongue.” She swallowed. Shit. She could almost feel it. The lap of a hot, wet tongue sliding between the cleft of her ass, briefly teasing her hole before it sank, deep,
deep
inside her.

Her heart pounded, her flesh tight at the incredible sensation. The idea of a pointed, rasping tongue had her pushing back against it. It pulled free and pushed in again and again. Orgasm flickered low in her belly and she had to be crazy as the idea of sharpened fingers gripping her thighs and pulling her wide flashed through her. The twisting tongue plunged into her pussy as long and thick as a cock. But better.
So
much better.

Anya’s breaths came in short bursts, orgasm so close she could almost taste it. Was she asleep, half awake, delusional? She didn’t care. If exhaustion drove her to this, she would work herself to the bone.

She turned her head to watch her hips bucking. The sheet shifted over her ass as the imaginary tongue fucked her well and hard, the fierce grip of clawed hands keeping her wide open. Clawed? All right, that was different, but really, who cared? Because the fantasy worked and she was about to come and come hard—

The sheet caught on her knee. Anya didn’t care, there was only the moon, always watching, to see her naked, writhing, and she had no problem with watching her ass as an imaginary tongue fucked—

Gone. The tongue, the hands vanished from her body as the sheet dropped to the metal floor.

Anya cursed and buried her face in her pillow, fisting it. She screamed her frustration into its softness. Was her subconscious tormenting her because she agreed to this assignment simply for the money? She was being punished for taking the title of engineer. After all, her specialties lay in the soft sciences, not engineering.

She dragged the sheet over her body and jammed the pillow over her head. Or was it the reflected light of the large moon? It always seemed to have her imagining things. The moon shone too bright into her domed bedroom—she snorted into the sheet—it almost felt as if the bloody thing
watched
her.

She froze.

There. Clawed fingers teasing over her thighs. Her heart pounded.
Was
this her imagination? She pushed her face from the pillow and turned to look over her shoulder…and the sense of hands on her skin faded away.

“All right, you don’t want me to look.” Anya laughed and hid her face against the pillow again. She was crazy. Certifiable. The isolation had driven her to bargaining with her subconscious. “Not looking. So in your own time, if you want to bring back the fingers, or
please,
that tongue, I promise, no peeking.”

Nothing. Anya held down a groan. She was better finding sleep—

Fingers gripped her thighs and pushed her wide open.

Anya swallowed, her heart jumping. No looking, no talking. All right, she could do that. And it couldn’t be her imagination. Something
breathed
against the wetness of her pussy and the unknown had her aching. The tongue teased her clit and her hips bucked. She bit down a yelp. Her fingers fisted the pillow and she clung to it as the tongue slid toward where she ached for it, easing through her wet, swollen flesh until it teased and curled its way into her pussy.

Anya bit the inside of her cheek to stop the escaping groan. New tension tightened in her belly and she pushed back, finding the clawed hands biting into the firm flesh of her thighs. Whatever it was, it wanted to please and she had no intention of denying it. Not with Theta-Scorpii-3 so many days away.

Another tongue,
another
one, slid between the cleft of her ass and had her gasping. It teased her puckered hole and the coiling tension flared. More hands slid over her cheeks, separating her, giving the second tongue easy access to dip and play and dart into her ass.

Anya couldn’t breathe. The hands and tongues touching her, filling her but with no sense of body, of arms, of faces should’ve filled her with terror. They didn’t. They wanted her, wanted to be with her. The strange thoughts buzzed through her brain but scattered as the other tongue breached her ass.

Claws dug into her cheeks, pushing her hard into the mattress as the tongue drove deep. Stars danced behind her eyes. And then the twisting, hot tongues started to fuck her, taking up a steady, alternate rhythm that had her aching and ready and then—by all that was unholy—they took her together. Hard, deep, wet thrusts, faster, unrelenting, the fingers on her flesh biting, pinning her to the bed, taking her—

Orgasm tore through her flesh, heat and light surging, the tongues fucking her through it. Anya sucked in a slow breath, her body damp and trembling. Sated tiredness sat on her and a shit-eating grin pulled across her mouth. Others had speculated on the existence of pure-energy beings, but they’d never suggested they liked to have sex. Really incredible sex.

The tongues eased from her flesh, the fingers that had bitten into her ass and legs now caressing her damp skin. Anya hugged the pillow, careful not to glance behind her. She sighed and the slow strokes of unknown hands warmed her body into a heavy lassitude. The strong fingers, palms faded into nothingness over her sated flesh and Anya wanted to find deep, dreamless sleep.

However, something else pulled through her mind and had her twisting over the wide, cool mattress, trying to find the rest she craved. It wouldn’t leave her, a strange mixture of warm, male skin and something else, almost the scent of fire—no, not fire, the dry, gritty scent of coal.

The odd odor was new…and then a sound joined it.

Usually it was the incessant drone of her communications console dragging her half awake to the screen where her supervisor would frown at her and give a five-minute lecture on Academy standards. But this time it was a different sound, soft, pleasant, almost a tongue licking, a mouth, mouths suckling…

Her breath hitched. She still lay sprawled on her stomach, the mattress pressing warm against her skin…but lips, teeth, tongues started to suck, teased her breasts, drew them into hot mouths.

Anya let her head fall deep into the pillow, her hands threading through her tangled hair. She’d gone completely and utterly insane. That had to be the explanation for the teeth grazing her nipples and—she muffled a groan into the pillow—the hands stealing over her ribs, waist, hips. Aliens,
invisible
aliens, didn’t exist. Not ones who happily sucked and fucked a lonely woman on a science platform.

Fresh need ran though her and she wanted more than the eager mouths on her breasts… She groaned as a tongue licked up her spine. Air shifted over her bare skin and the mattress dipped either side of her shoulders. A heavy cock pressed against her ass, the weight of warm, bare hips lying against her. It slid over her wetness, guided by a hand as knuckles skimmed her flesh.

Anya couldn’t help herself, she lifted her hips and found sharp fingers holding her down. Her belly tightened and the ache in her pussy had her breath short. The blunt head of a warm, dry cock pushed at her flesh in a slow, unhurried tease. Centimeter by centimeter, its surprisingly rough skin fired a delicious friction deep into her pussy.

It pushed, pushed until a groan that wasn’t hers, a deep, masculine one of satisfaction echoed over the metal walls of her bedroom. Anya crushed her eyes shut and her fingers fisted in her hair. Sensation bombarded her. Mouths, hands, sucking her, gripping her…and then the cock buried in her pulled back.

Anya bit the inside of her cheek to hold back the strangled groan that needed to escape her. What were these creatures? Why her? And why now? She had to think, but he pushed forward and all thought scattered. Fingers dug into her flesh, pinning her to the bed, eager for her to remain utterly still as the pace increased, each hard thrust a counterpoint to the teeth tugging at her aching nipples. Pleasure-pain surged in her flesh and she wanted nothing more than, whoever this was, to fuck her hard and fast and make her scream into her twisted pillow.

Grunts came with each thrust now, low, deep, male, the slap of flesh against flesh filling the room. Tension fired through her body and the close burn of orgasm threatened to tear though her. More hands held her, stroking over her damp skin, teasing her spine, her thighs. Impossibly, one slid down over her belly to tease her mons before two fingers sank
hard
against her clitoris.

Anya cried out, her voice lost in the softness of her pillow as her release burst over in a rippling fury of heat and searing light. Still he fucked her, faster, more erratic until somewhere in the haze the hips pushed hard, driving his cock deep. He shuddered and Anya
felt
his release.

Her body sagged and the mouths eased away with final tender kisses. The hands softened their harsh grip and a hot, lithe torso pressed against her back. A mouth brushed her ear and she shivered.

“Thank you, Anya.” The lips curved into a smile and a pointed tongue traced the shell of her ear. “And don’t worry, more of us will return to enjoy you.”

“More?” She couldn’t help the strangled question, and with it all trace of her…
lovers
faded away. Anya groaned and rolled onto her back. In the silvered light of the moon, her pale skin had darkened, reddened under their touch.

A tentative finger circled around her swollen, tender nipple and for a brief moment found wetness there. “They’re real,” she murmured, staring up to the intersecting metal beams supporting the dome. “Computer? What life forms are on this platform?”

“One human. Anya Sigurdson. Engineer, third class—”

“Thank you.” She broke into the computer’s dull voice. “In the past thirty minutes, have you monitored any other life forms?”

“No.”

All right, the computer didn’t recognize them as sentient. “How about strange energy readings?”

“Unknown energy readings were detected by the central aspect of the array.”

Anya groaned and scrubbed her hand over her face. “The array. Shit.” Anything picked out by the external sensors broadcast as raw data back to Earth. No doubt at some point before her morning officially began, her supervisor would be shouting her awake.

She found her crumpled bed sheet and curled around her pillow. Well, she had to pay somehow for two
serious
orgasms. She licked her lips and stretched her sated body before bringing her knees up to her chest. Anya closed her eyes, let out a slow breath, and tried not to think that she’d been promised more.