Lure of a Demon

Doesn’t she see I could have killed her during our last encounter, but I didn’t? Isn’t that enough for her to know I’m not out to hurt random humans? Apparently not, and I let my eyes slide into yellow when there was another spike of anger. The clarity of my vision increased as I stared at the woman between my thighs, her neck in my hands. She was bucking her hips against me, digging her nails into my arms.

Something crossed over her eyes, and her body language shifted. In one swift move, Ilsa wrapped her right leg around my waist and pulled hard on my right ear while her other hand grasped my face and her thumb pressed into a soft spot under my chin I didn’t even know existed. My head was yanked to the side at the same time she bucked her hips, and using her leg, she maneuvered me off her.

Christ, I thought as I hit the floor. What an overreaction.

It’s not like I was going to kill her. Only choke her until she passed out, and I could finish my work here in peace.

I made a mental note not to underestimate her again.

Once on top of me, she brought her hands between my arms and forced me to release my hold on her neck. The element of surprise sure helped, and I relinquished my hold on her. I dropped my arms to the floor and paused before calmly folding my hands behind my head. Above me, her chest heaved with every breath. I could almost see the adrenaline pumping through her veins and smell it in her blood. My pupils dilated with the thought of her life’s blood and the idea of it on my tongue. I wondered what she’d taste like, if she would give me a greater high than other humans, and if I could absorb some of that anger and angst.

My relaxed pose seemed to disarm her, and she frowned. When she reached into her back pocket, I snatched at her arms, not in the mood for another assault with silver. The tingle of metal on metal sounded against my ear drums, and I laughed.

“Handcuffs? Oooh, baby,” I cooed.

“I’m arresting you,” Ilsa said as she brought her breathing into line and snapped one of the cuffs over my wrist. I let her, lifting my arms between us while she straddled me and allowed her to cuff the other wrist. The deepening frown etched on her forehead told me she knew my compliance was a trap, but she was still tied by some inner duty to do the right thing.

Sitting up, I brought my handcuffed wrists between us, my eyes flashing at the way hers widened at the closeness of our bodies. Fuck, she radiated such heat. Not only from the fight but simply her body pulsing so near to mine. I must have denied myself a fuck for too long because I wanted to take her so bad.

So, I did something crazy.

Crazy was kind of my calling card anyway.