Page 68 of Craving Demons

“What did you think?” he asked, seemingly not bothered at all by the blood dripping from his nose, or lips, or above his eye, or any of the cuts on his huge chest and massive arms, or the bruises on his hard abs, or…

…I think my cavewoman must have seized control of me for just a moment, because when I came to myself next, I was straddling his lap, grinding myself against the growing stiffness under his loin-cloth, and my lips were clamped to his, hands fisting his hair. And he wasn’t doing anything to dissuade me.

He pulled me close, my chest pressed against his as my rigid nipples did their best to cut their way out of my flimsy T-shirt, and his hard lips opened. He forced his tongue into my mouth, teasing out my tongue as we ferociously kissed.

I lost control of my aspect, wanting all the sex, and heard Ramsey’s vicious grunt as the thing I was grinding against surged to oh-my-daemon-lord proportions.

Heat consumed me. Firestorms sizzled out to all parts of me from the blast furnace that was my core and my pussy opened, receptive and ready, dripping with my super-heated juices.

But then Ramsey pushed me back as my grinding reached a fevered pace. I… just… needed… a bit…. more!

“Ana,” he breathed through clenched teeth. “Get yourself under control or I’ll lose it.”

Behind his eyes was a nearly out-of-control tornado of swirling chaos. But still, he seemed to sense my need and his hands slid down from my shoulders to squeeze my breasts, hard and needful. That was all it took.

I came.

I didn’t care how loud I screamed, or if everyone in this arena knew I was coming. I hoped some other fight would distract them. My pussy flooded and I soaked through my panties and my jeans as I finished my orgasm rubbing my clit against his cock.

His jaw was tense, every muscle bunching and twitching. I looked down at his loin-cloth and saw the mixed stains of my leaking wetness and his pre-cum where the tip of his cock pressed against the fabric.

God, that had been amazing and primal and hot. But I registered Ramsey’s earlier words now and — since I was satisfied — pulled my aspect back within me, as much as I could, given Harmonia’s lessons.

I grinned devilishly. A part of me liked the fact that I’d gotten off and he hadn’t. And if I drained all the sexy heat from around us, he’d probably go limp. So… I focused a little harder — which was easier now that I’d had a release and my head was clear — and did just that, suckingallthat steamy sex into me, devouring it.

Ramsey sighed. The storm behind his eyes settled and he let out a shuddering breath.

“Thank you,” he breathed, and those two words had a whole world of meaning in that moment. He was grateful I’d saved him from losing control, but also loved that I’d chosen to ride him in the first place.

I sat back a little, more on his legs than his cock, looking down at that huge lump in the loin-cloth. “Really? You’re thanking me and you didn’t even come?”

That cocky smile returned to his face. “When I come…you’llbe the one thankingme.”

I laughed at his confidence, even as my horny self was fully agreeing to those terms.

“Now, I’m going to get dressed and take you back to my place where we can get undressed, and I’ll make you come again and again before you… thank me.”

And my already hot body tingled with that suggestion. Some part of my mind was trying to remind me that I was off men — off dicks and bad boys like Ramsey — but I was ignoring it. As much as I hadn’t been a fan of the fight, all my old instincts had returned. I wanted this powerful man to claim me and make me scream. Again.

“Let’s go,” I whispered and that was all the motivation he needed.

ANAIS

Ramsey’s penthouse was large,but not opulent. It was incredibly clean — which was a surprise — spartan, minimalist. I liked that. No one had commented on the fact that he was topless as we’d come up through the swanky building and rode up the elevator, but then, who would pick a fight with a massive man looking as brutal as he was? Which saved me from answering questions since I was wearing his T-shirt — which was like a dress on me — to hide the rather large and embarrassing wet spot on my jeans.

He closed the door behind us and turned to me. “Do you want me clean or dirty?” he asked. “I could do with a shower, but if you just want to fuck, all sweaty and nasty, I can do that too.”

He was blunt. I liked that. Straightforward. No pretense. Also, he was giving me the choice, which disappointed my cavewoman, but was very appealing to modern me.

“What about your injuries?” I asked, stepping in and running a tentative finger around a massive, nasty black bruise on his chest.

He winced then smiled. “They’re nothing.”

Okay… sothathad been a lie. I could tell his wounds hurt. I stepped in and pressed my lips to that large bruise, soft and gentle, as if my kiss could make it better.

I’d been meaning to show him he was wrong and that even such a light touch would be painful. I expected a gasp of pain, but instead, he let out a shaking breath of relief.

Then, we both looked down as the bruise faded away to nothing almost instantly.