Lure of a Demon

Then there were small lines of glowing red, weaving their way between the black.

Staying in a defensive crouch, I shifted along the wall away from her, digging in my pocket and drawing out a silver knife. I knew now it wouldn’t kill her, and somehow that made it easier to draw on her. Because even as the fear pulsed through me as I watched her muscles ripple underneath her skin, I didn’t want to kill her. Because somewhere in there was Ray.

There was pain and fear in her eyes, and all I wanted to do was help.

With an unnaturally fast movement of her neck, Ray turned to me, her eyes flashing dangerously. She didn’t even acknowledge the knife, her eyes burning into only mine, and like a wave, it crashed over me—my impulsive reaction to her instinct. My attraction to the Ray I was getting to know overwhelmed me when it was coupled with whatever demon shit was going on with her now. Something dark and dangerous sparked through the air between us.

When fear should’ve been the dominant reaction, underneath the fear was arousal.

With a growl, she was on me, and when her body slammed into mine and I hit the ground, I dropped the knife, hearing it clatter across the pavement as her hands grabbed my wrists. Her lips found mine, and I tried to protest before her tongue was in my mouth, and her hips ground obscenely against me.

Crying out when she sunk her teeth in my neck, I struggled against her grip on my wrists and said her name over and over again, trying to snap her out of this, whatever this was. Because while my fear mingled with my arousal, creating a confusing and heated sensation across my body, I was aware of what she was capable of doing.

How much control did she have like this? Not much judging by the snarling and rough handling, and I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t kill me, accidentally or otherwise.

Would I have the strength to save myself if she tried to kill me in a frenzy?

“Every time you say my name…” she snarled then continued, “… it drives me wild.” The otherworldly tone to her voice still present, I trembled under her touch, and she nipped and bit her way along my shoulder and collarbone. “I can feel your need. I need this too.”

For a moment, our eyes locked, and a glimpse of the white of her human eyes peeked through. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and the pain in her voice broke me before it was gone, replaced with another growl. Ray shifted so both my wrists were trapped in the vice-like grip of one of her hands, and her fingers trailed down my body, fighting with the button and zipper on my pants before she pushed her palm between my legs. When she dipped a finger inside me, she bared her teeth, and I whimpered as she roughly pumped her finger in and out. She had made me wet, and I could feel the warmth flush around her hand. When Ray opened her eyes, they were still yellow, and her teeth found my neck again, biting hard enough to draw blood.

Gritting my teeth through the pain, I began struggling anew against her grip. Ray was licking my neck, inching closer to the wound she had just made. Somehow, I knew what she was going to do, and I didn’t want it. Not some vampire shit.

“Please,” I said, renewing my struggles against her. “Don’t kill me.”

Ray froze, slowly lifting herself until she was looking into my eyes. I blinked hard, hoping she didn’t see the beginnings of tears forming. With a shake of her head, her eyes switched between human and demon before they returned to their normal color. She was snarling again, jolting and convulsing on top of me, and slowly the black ink began fading from her skin.

Ray recoiled from me, scrambling along on the pavement before pushing herself against the wall and hugging her arms around her knees. I remained still, slowly lowering my aching arms and doing up my pants. My clit was pulsing from the loss of sensation of her palm, and I hated that I wanted more.

“I wasn’t going to kill you,” Ray muttered against her legs.

The conflicting emotions stirred within me. She looked so broken. But a moment before, she had been a raging beast, playing my body like an instrument and responding with her own instinct. The combination of fear and arousal left me feeling empty and weak, and I was torn between wanting to comfort her and yell at her.

Retrieving the knife, I shoved it back in my pocket, and she followed my motions. Keeping my distance from her, I crouched again, watching her cautiously, waiting for signs of another outburst and prepared to strike if I had to.

Would I follow through, though? Did I really want to attack her?

What scared me the most was I wanted to give myself to her. Deep inside, I wanted her to take me. I was responding to her on a level I didn’t even know existed, and knowing I could draw that side out of her filled me with a sense of power and lust.

A part of her she obviously worked so hard to control came undone when she was around me.

And I liked it.

Cursing under my breath, I relaxed my pose and leaned against the wall, still keeping a few feet between us.

Just in case.