My Demon Saint (Shifting Reality 2)

“Finally.”

Two identical voices. Two identical men. One with black eyes. One with red. Both wore hooded sweat jackets and jeans. Both wore black combat boots. Both held Blackberries.

And both of them had identical faces to her warrior.

“Sinner?”

Ume looked over at him in confusion. Was this another test?

Her warrior shook his head and walked further into the room. “This isn’t a test, Ume Wu. It’s not a trick.”

He turned to face her and the two images of him walked over to stand beside him. “I am Saint. Human.” His human half saluted her. “And demon.” The demon licked his lips and snarled.

Both figures stepped closer, into him, and disappeared, leaving only her warrior in the room, his arms out as if in supplication.

Ume’s breath had been knocked out of her. “Why?”

His laughter was self-mocking. “Because I was bored and you were unique. An anomaly. Entertaining. And you had a magic in you that I didn’t understand.”

“You were bored? You did all this because you were bored?”

“At first I just wanted to watch you. Know you. I touched your mind in the game out of curiosity. But then something happe—”

“You fucking bastard.” Ume dropped her sword and flew at him, needing to feel his flesh beneath her fists. She pounded on his chest, kicked his legs out from under him, unable to calm the rage that was consuming her.

Saint didn’t defend himself. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off.” She could hardly see through her tears. “I trusted you, you liar. You just wanted my necklace. You just wanted to trick me. You’re a Goddamned demon? I hate you.”

Saint rolled her over so quickly her head spun. She was on her side, his hips pressed against her thigh, his hands gripping her wrists on the floor above her head. “Hate me, Ume. Despise me. But you need to know I didn’t want your damn necklace. I just wanted you.”

They glared into each other’s eyes, their hard, panting breaths the only sound in the room.

Ume’s body was quivering, but it was no longer just with rage. He had to be a demon, how else could she explain it? He’d been playing with her this whole time. She should skewer him with her kitana for putting her through all this, for reminding her how it felt to be able to run. For showing her the truth about her mother.

But being this close to him, smelling him, was making her body heat with arousal.

She saw his pupils dilate as he sensed her instinctive response. Saw a spark of ruby red in their black depths and was shocked at her reaction. It wasn’t normal to want someone this badly. Especially someone like Saint.

She could feel his erection hardening against her leg and she licked her lips. Her body was tuned to his, trained to his. Those hours in that room of the inn filled her mind. The way he took her. The way he’d played her.

Something was seriously wrong with her.

His smile was dark and wicked. It made her tails twitch. “If this is how you hate, Ume, then please, hate me more.”

She pressed against him, arching her back. She couldn’t seem to help herself. “I hate you.”

He growled, bending down to take her mouth in a soul-stealing kiss. He took her breath, gave it back to her. His tongue tangled with hers, and she drank in his taste. She could feel his hands tearing at her underwear, at the fastenings of his pants, and she wondered that he didn’t make their clothing magically disappear. Even a second was too long. She was already wet. Already dying for him. Would it ever stop? This addiction?

He kept her on her side, lifting her knee high against her chest, and then he was there. Inside her. No preliminaries, no wooing. It was always like this between them. An instant blaze. But she didn’t need any romance. She didn’t want romance from him. Though he gave it to her anyway. In the way his fingers twined with hers as he thrust at an angle that brought her instantly to that rocky, jagged edge. In the way his soft lips begged her for more without a word. Seduced her.

She tore her mouth away from his to grab a lungful of air. “I hate you.”

Saint groaned. “I hate you too, Ume. You’ve ruined me. Fuck, you feel so good. I hate the way your pussy feels like it was made for my cock. I hate how hot and sweet and wet you get. How I know I could do any filthy, dark and dirty thing to you and you would just fucking love it and ask for more.”

“Yes.”

His hips jerked. “Yes? Is that a request? Let’s see how sweetly you hate me after this.”