Lure of a Demon

Ilsa smirked then, briefly, but it was there. “You say it like it’s such an unreasonable thing.”

I slid across the couch closer to her. She didn’t flinch or move away, but her back stiffened again. “Maybe we should just wing it.”

“All right.”

It took a certain amount of willpower not to do a comical doubletake. “I expected more of a fight,” I said.

“I’m too tired to fight with you. Actually, I think I’m going to go back to bed.”

Staring at her until she started to shift uncomfortably under my gaze, my face dropped. “But… it’s so early.”

She looked at me how I imagined a teacher might at a complaining child. “What do you want me to do, Ray? Do you want to watch movies and play truth or dare in our jammies?”

“I dunno.” It was my turn to shift around in my seat. “We could stay up.”

“And do what?”

Fixing her with a stare, I purred, “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

She flushed, then chuckled, then went silent before releasing a heavy sigh, a matinee of the emotions that ran through her. “Ray, why did you kiss me?”

Shrugging, I said, “I was horny.”

“Is that the only reason?”

I wasn’t sure what she expected, so I told her the truth. “You’re hot, and you intrigue me. Maybe I wanted to bang.”

“Really, bang is the term you use?” Ilsa almost laughed again. This time it was so clear that she was trying to stop it. She hated the part of herself that relaxed around me and talked to me like an equal, but she kept betraying herself.

I did finger guns, the gesture immediately feeling unnatural. Too late now, I had to roll with it. “Pow pow!”

Ilsa stared at me. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

Then she laughed, and while it was filled with nervous energy, I still loved the way it sounded, rolling off her tongue as her eyes squinted slightly, dimples in her cheeks I couldn’t have noticed before they made themselves known when she smiled. Damn, she was cute and sexy.

“Good night, Ray,” Ilsa said. “Don’t rob me.”

Her bed was cold—the hidden space between the sheets filled with the chill of the night. But once I passed through no man’s land and slid closer to her sleeping form, her warmth captivated me again.

Ilsa was on her side, curled up on the very edge of the mattress. She grumbled when I placed a hand on her shoulder, rolling her onto her back.

Without opening her eyes, she muttered, sleep heavy in her voice, “What are you doing?”

Hushing her, I lowered my lips to her ear. “Just go with it.”

When I pressed my lips to hers, her eyes shot open, and she mumbled my name against my mouth. I don’t think my name has ever sounded better. Her hands found my shoulders, but she didn’t push me away. Instead, she lingered for a moment, her fingers twitching with the physical manifestation of her indecision. But as I leaned over her and pressed my tongue into her hot, waiting mouth, she gripped my shoulders and pulled me closer to her. I thought she was going to protest when I kissed my way down her neck, but instead, only a guttural moan escaped. She didn’t even argue when I pulled her tank top over her head but simply complied and lifted her arms so I could toss it to the side.

This wasn’t a time for questioning, and I think Ilsa knew that. This was simply a time for pleasure. There were many complications outside this room, but not now, not tonight. She was mine to claim, and I would lay that claim.

Ilsa had worked her way into my life, and I wanted her.

What I wanted, I got.

She was so warm, her skin burned under my touch as I ran a hand over her breast, squeezing gently before pinching her nipple. Kissing her again as she moaned, I smirked at the way her hips moved, lifting from the mattress and gyrating, desperate to find mine. I had to remind myself to be gentle. I had waited too long to give in to this side of me, focusing more on the lust for blood and violence, and my demon craved the meeting of the two.

Sex and power, pleasure and pain.

But Ilsa didn’t need that. She needed to be taken, needed the pleasure but not too rough.

Not this time.

Ilsa needed to trust me.

Shifting over until our legs were intertwined, I lay on top of her, already naked. She gasped when she found this out for herself, running her hands down my back and stopping barely short of touching my ass, searching for panties that weren’t there.

“You were so sure of yourself, weren’t you?” she whispered against my shoulder as I kissed her neck. I could feel her smile against my skin, and I giggled.

“I keep telling you, I can read you like a book.”

“Ray…”

But she said nothing further, and I lifted a leg, pressing my thigh against her warmth and running my teeth over her throat, licking up her cheek and biting gently at her earlobe. She was grinding against my thigh, hard, desperate for the friction, and I chuckled again.

Lifting her arms over her head, I guided her to wrap her fingers around the frame of the headboard.

“Don’t let go, soldier.”

There was something in her eyes, a flash of defiance. I had struck a nerve referring to her as soldier. It didn’t surprise me she harbored some traumatic memories, but there was something else there. A rebellion against higher ranks, perhaps? I grinned. It would be an interesting thread to pull to see what lay underneath.

I couldn’t help it, tormenting humans was second nature to me.

Ilsa cringed slightly as I licked her cheek, and I giggled before pressing my tongue into her mouth again. I felt her arms relax as her grip on the headboard slackened, and I broke the kiss, slapping gently at her wrists.

“I said don’t let go. Don’t make me spank you.”