Page 69 of Craving Demons

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Page 69 of Craving Demons

What the…?

“Did you just… heal me?” he asked softly, confused and curious.

Had I?

I didn’t answer, but I leaned in to kiss a large gash on his right arm, just below the shoulder, tasting the coppery tang of his blood. I’d been thinking about my kiss making it better the last time, so I thought the same thing again.

The heavy gash closed, dried blood flaking and falling away. There was only the jagged line of a faint scar there now.

“Fuck me,” I breathed.

“I intend to, but first, I think you’ve just manifested another aspect.” He put a finger under my chin and lifted my face from looking at his shoulder until our gazes met. “That makes you a daemon lady, perhaps even a daemon princess, depending on who your parents were.”

“Oh?” And suddenly I really, desperately needed to know who my birth parents were. Why had my adoption records been lost? Who the fuck was I?

I was lost in thought until Ramsey’s hard lips pressed to mine in a heavy kiss. It didn’t last long though and he pulled back and whispered, “No thinking about other things when you’re with me.” He grinned. “Now, kiss the rest of my wounds.”

It was a soft demand, but a demand nonetheless and something in that demand suggested we’d be doing the sweaty-dirty sex very soon.

He stripped me, playing and pressing, fondling and rubbing as I sought and soothed all of his many cuts and bruises, kissing all over his upper body. I was naked by the time I undid his jeans, looking for more wounds on his legs, but got distracted by the massive, purple, swollen erection that sprang free from his pants.

“Fuuuuck,” I breathed, blinking. I’d thought Grey and Fen had been large. If so, then Ramsey was a monster.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I think the wounds on my legs can wait. I think you’ve got other things on your mind.” He stepped out of his pants.

“Fuuuuck,” I whispered again, still mesmerized by that thick, throbbing column of meat.

Ramsey grabbed me and spun me around, pressing my back to his chest. I felt the straining surge of his cock against my ass as his hands slid over me.

He’d already spent time igniting all my many fires and my skin tingled, flushed a deep red. My breasts were heaving, my nipples tight and hard, and my thighs were slick with the lava flow slowly leaking from my core, preparing for the eruption I knew was about to come.

“I think you’ll need to be a bit looser before I fuck you,” he whispered, his hot breath on my ear.

I shivered at the intimate tone, even as his large hands went to work on me. One clasped a breast, while his other slid down to my messy, drenched folds.

“Gods, you’re soaked!” he breathed as his fingers brushed my clit.

I undulated against him, wanting him to feel as good as I did, and he pressed his palm hard to my raging nub while slipping three thick fingers inside me.

“Fuck, you’re so open. You really want my cock, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I moaned, head lolling back onto his shoulder as he began a rough finger-fucking, rubbing me inside and out, taking my already taut desire higher and higher.

He took me right to the edge and didn’t hesitate or tease me, finishing me off by pinching my nipple.

With a cry, the volcano building in my core erupted in a glorious burst of pleasure. I shuddered and mewled and shouted as he viciously continued his finger work until I’d finally stopped spurting. By then my knees were weak, body trembling and mind dazed, and I was in a land of warm contentment, higher than a kite.

Strong arms turned me around, picked me up, and laid me down on something hard. I hadn’t been expecting that. I blinked my eyes open to find I was on his dining room table.

Anticipation surged through me even though I was still flying high on my release because it was obvious he wasn’t setting me on the table to rest. He’d set me here because it was the perfect height to fuck me.

Oh, yes.I shuddered at that thought, especially when I once again saw his huge cock.

“Condom, purse!” I gasped.

He looked at me, one brow raised. “I don’t wear—”

“You do if you want to stick that eggplant in my peach. No exceptions. I’ve had enough kids. Condom or nothing!”




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