“What’s the thing about the chicken foot?” she asked moments later while peering at my legs.
I snorted. “Lesser Lidercs will have a chicken foot that they cannot hide, even when they shift. I am not one of them. You have the elite among our peers at your service.”
It was her turn to snort at the pompous way in which I spoke those words.
“Your ego knows no bounds.”
“Is it ego when it is merely a statement of fact?” I mused aloud with an exaggerated introspective expression.
She laughed again and shook her head as if I was a hopeless case. Coral finished reading from a couple of different sites before pivoting on her desk chair to study my features.
“So you’re mine since I hatched you. I must give you chores or tasks to do, otherwise you will go crazy. You must obey any order I give you, regardless of how you feel about it. Your main goal is to make my life easier and help enrich me. You can give me the wildest sex I ever could have hoped for. And the only way for us to part ways is either for me to die, or me giving you such an impossible task to accomplish that you will kill yourself trying. Did I get all of that right?”
“You did,” I said with a nod.
“That’s every shade of fucked up!” Coral exclaimed.
“No, Mistress. That’s every shade of awesome. You’re about to have everything you ever wanted with the aid of yours truly, while having mind boggling sex on demand. What more could you ask for?”
“Well… When you put it that way,” she conceded sheepishly.
I rested my palms on the arms rest of her chair, leaning forward in a seductive fashion.
“So what were you saying about getting rid of me?” I taunted.
“I don’t remember,” she replied, her eyes locked on my lips as the delicious scent of her arousal timidly awakened.
I purred and leaned even closer, my lips a hair’s breadth from hers. Just as I was about to go for the kiss, Coral placed her palms on my chest and pushed me back.
“But I’m not keeping you dressed like that!” she retorted, in what I knew to be one last ditch effort to resist temptation.
I glanced at the ridiculous tutu still hiding my modesty and summarily yanked it down, letting it fall to my feet.
“Then keep me as I am, undressed and all yours.”
Chapter 4
Coral
Lord have mercy! Vazul was the biggest temptation I had ever faced. Every fiber of my being was shouting at me to just freaking enjoy this unexpected gift from above. Well, technically, it was rather a gift from below. My mind raced with all the reasons why this was a bad idea. Simultaneously, the wicked little voice that always berated me for being such a lame ass party pooper was yelling at me to seize the day… and this fine demon’s cock.
I was comfortable with my sexuality. While I didn’t sleep around, I had no qualms about partaking in some consensual skin on skin time. Vazul was my very own sex demon. Intimacy with him would be off the charts. So why was I holding back? Considering I gave zero shit what other people thought about me, why not indulge in what I craved?
I couldn’t tell if the look on my face, my body language, or his ability to read emotions gave away the moment I finally caved in. One minute, he was staring at me in his glorious nudity, and the next, his hands were on my thighs, caressing a path up my short red skirt as he leaned forward to claim my lips.
His hands were incredibly warm, just like his mouth, but not in an uncomfortable way. The heat seeped into me, making me instantly relaxed, even as it heated my blood. A dull throbbing awakened between my thighs as his tongue teased the seam of my mouth, requesting entry. I didn’t resist, welcoming his invading tongue. His warm breath sent a tingling down my throat. I couldn’t describe the sensation, but I was too busy with his delightful taste of peach and cinnamon as our tongues mingled.
His searing hands settled on my behind, and he lifted me up. I gasped against his lips and instinctively wrapped my arms and legs around him. A thrill coursed through me when I felt a stiff rod pressing against my stomach as he carried me across the room. To my shock, he didn’t settle me down on the comfy cushions of the couch in the workshop but sat me on the right arm instead facing outward.
Vazul’s hands were all over me, groping, caressing, exploring with the possessiveness of a conqueror. I never even realized when he released the four hooks of my tank top, which attached at the back like a bra. The fabric rubbed against my stomach as he pulled it off and tossed it somewhere behind him. With one hand holding my nape, Vazul broke the kiss, his fangs gently grazing the line of my jaw, then following a path down the curve of my neck. He licked my clavicles, tracing swirling patterns with the tip of his tongue before pursuing his journey down to the aching buds of my nipples.
But just as he was about to wrap his mouth around the left one, I stiffened and pushed back on his shoulders as a thought crossed my mind.
“Wait! You’re not going to leech me while we play naughty, right?” I asked.
My stomach dropped when he didn’t immediately say no.
“I need to feed. Hatching requires a lot of energy,” he said in a neutral voice.
