I had requested that he no longer refers to me that way as I didn’t want our relationship to have that connotation of master and servant. Even though the magical bond between us technically set us as such, I believed in free will. We could establish our own rules, and ours was a partnership. Vazul was my boyfriend—and frankly the person I saw myself building a long-term life with—not my slave.
Although it initially struck him as strange, he honored my request when it came to regular interactions. But in the bedroom, every time I took the more dominant role, he would call me Mistress, like an obedient boy. And I loved it! In that instance, it was merely role play and consensual exchange of power. That was the type of dynamic I wanted between us.
“Good boy,” I whispered with a triumphant smile.
I reclaimed his lips, my hands gliding over his bare chest. At home, Vazul always traipsed around naked but for a pair of shorts. In fact, he’d developed a predilection for kilts and mid-thigh-length Gothic man skirts. Obviously, with no undies underneath, as he was right this instant. The fiend shamelessly admitted that it sped up the process to see to my needs when I wanted a quickie.
As much as it had made my cheeks burn to be thus called out, I couldn’t deny the accuracy of his claim. On a few occasions, I might haveforgottento wear undies of my own andinadvertentlywiggled my behind while leaning over the island in the kitchen. A simple lift of our respective skirts had sufficed for a certain ridged snake to venture into an unassuming cave. My own wandering hands might have casually landed under the hem of his kilt and found themselves absent-mindedly playing jingle bells with his balls.
Even as our tongues mingled, I rubbed my palms over the chiseled grooves of his stomach. The fingers of my right hand ventured further down to his side to open the two buckle straps that kept it in place. Damn, how I loved the feel of his smooth skin, and the hardened nubs of his nipples beneath my touch!
I interrupted the kiss, feeling almost drunk on his sweet peach taste. Fisting his right horn, I tugged firmly to pull his head back. Vazul inhaled sharply, and the sound resonated directly between my thighs as my lips explored his face with devotion. His skin didn’t quite possess the same texture as a human’s. It was soft in some places, and slightly grittier inothers, as if covered in the tiniest of scales. I couldn’t quite put it into words, not that it mattered. I loved the feel of it against my lips and under my tongue.
He shivered when I began licking his neck, at that junction right below the ear, then nipped at his earlobe. Vazul growled his approval, and his fingers slipped through my hair to settle on my nape. I loved that he didn’t attempt to control my actions, allowing me to explore his body as I saw fit. Obviously, it wouldn’t last. He couldn’t help eventually taking over. But I would savor what was mine for as long as I could.
I licked my way down to his chest, stopping for a brief moment so that my tongue could tease his nipples. Vazul moaned again, his abdominal muscles quivering in response to my ministrations. With a triumphant smile, I closed my lips around his little nub, slowly sucking on it. I flicked my thumb at the other, then pinched it hard enough that it would almost hurt. My demon liked a bit of pain. Once more, he grunted his approval. But it was the appearance of some fiery streaks under his skin that emboldened me.
While he could summon them at will, they often appeared involuntarily in response to pleasurable sensations. I immediately shifted my attention from his nipple to the streak running over his stomach. I traced it with my tongue, which tingled in reaction to the heat radiating from it.
As I licked the other streaks located further south, I opened the flaps of his kilt—which I detached earlier—revealing my prize. Finding Vazul already half erect awakened a dull throbbing between my thighs. Unable to resist, I made a beeline for it. Vazul hissed, his back partially straightening when my hand closed around his length. Fuck, my man was thick! It still blew my mind that I was able to take him.
And how glorious it was!
I marveled at the beauty of his shaft, with the swirling ridges that felt so wonderful inside me. They felt just as amazingagainst my palm as I began to stroke him. In seconds, a reddish glow appeared between the seam of the ridges, a telltale sign of my demon’s pleasure. I leaned forward and gave his shaft a long, slow lick from the base to the head. Vazul hissed again, the sound turning into a growl when I took him deep in my mouth. He propped himself on his elbows to watch me swallowing him.
Vazul loved looking at his cock going inside of me, whether it be in my mouth or in my pussy. He hadn’t been able to truly explain why. Yeah, it turned him on, but it was more than that. He explained that, in a way, it felt like each stroke further branded me as his, like a visual confirmation of our connection, which soothed his almost rabid possessiveness of me.
Whatever the reason, I didn’t care. I loved having his cock inside me.
Tilting my head back, I peered up at him while making quite the spectacle of going down on him. I plastered the most lascivious expression on my face as I sucked on him, deepthroating as far as I could take, then gliding back up to the tip before swirling my tongue around the head. In between, I squeezed the base of his shaft, stroking it in counterpoint to the movement of my mouth, and fondled his balls just the way he liked.
It messed with my head that little ole me could give so much pleasure to a freaking sex demon over a thousand years old. And yet, there it was. My gaze locked with his, I reveled in the power I held over him. Eyes hooded, Vazul stared back at me with parted lips, his breathing growing increasingly louder and labored under my ministrations.
The strangled sound he emitted when I sank my nails between the seams of his ridges made me so damn wet, I felt it trickle down my inner thighs. Who would have thought pleasuring someone could be such an insane turn on? His moans in my ears, his hands fisting the blanket as he fought for control, the ridged texture of his shaft on my tongue, and his addictivepeach cobbler taste in my mouth had my inner walls constricting with need.
I bobbed over him, one hand squeezing his testicles almost painfully, while my nails continued to stimulate the highly erogenous areas between the seams of his ridges. The sound of his rapturous moans, and the involuntary spasms in his legs heralded his imminent climax. I accelerated the pace, grazing his length with my teeth on each upward motion, and teasing him with my tongue as I took him deep in my throat.
As with all our previous encounters, I tried to convince myself that, this time, I’d get my man to completion this way. For a split second, when Vazul suddenly emitted a savage grunt, I actually believed he finally allowed himself to find his release first.
Buuuut nope.
The wretched male yanked my head back away from him. With lightning speed, my demon leaned forward, grabbed my waist, and all but body slammed me onto the mattress.
My stomach did a somersault in both fear and arousal when he lunged at me with an almost feral look on his face. Dazed, I barely realized how he managed to strip me out of my tank top and skirt. His hands and mouth were all over me, with an eagerness and passion that had every nerve ending standing to attention. He looked almost possessed as he kissed, caressed, and sucked on every inch of my body. Was I not seeing it with my own eyes, I’d think he had somehow summoned extra limbs to touch me with. And yet, he was managing this sensory overload with only the one set of hands and his wicked mouth.
And the latter sure did a number on me.
An endless string of voluptuous moans tumbled out of me when Vazul buried his face between my legs. With him, you never knew if he would launch into a slow foreplay, teasing me with the most exquisite torture, or go straight for gold, making me sing arias right away. The question was instantly answered ashis lips latched onto my little nub, sucking it with a frenzy while two of his fingers sank deep inside me.
My back arched off the bed as pleasure swiftly built in fiery waves. With deadly accuracy, my demon’s expert touch stroked the sensitive spot inside me, sending lightning sparks throughout my body. Holding his horns with both hands, I gave myself over to him. My hips gyrated with a will of their own as he devoured me with relentless hunger. Legs trembling with my imminent climax, I chanted his name, spurring him on.
Although I saw it coming, my orgasm struck me with sweeping violence. I cried out, my body shaking as Vazul continued to feast on me for a while longer. Once I started coming back down, he relented and kissed his way back up my body. To my surprise, he didn’t lie on top of me. Instead, he turned me onto my stomach and proceeded to worship every inch of me, the same way he had previously done for my front.
Naturally, he paid extra attention to my behind, which he absolutely adored. I loved when he opened his mouth wide and gave it a good chomp, as if he was trying to bite off a chunk. It never hurt, but I definitely felt it. And that half-pain always echoed back in my clit.
To my shock, he didn’t give me a spanking. I loved the sting and the heated tingling that followed. But him raking his claws over my back, my butt, and behind my thighs wiped away all those thoughts. My legs shook violently in response, and my toes curled. I couldn’t say why the lingering burning sensation was such a turn on for me, but it always had me throbbing in all the right places.
I gasped when he suddenly grabbed my hips and yanked my rump upward, propping me on my knees even as my face remained pressed on the mattress. A strangled cry escaped me when his mouth immediately settled on my pussy a second before his tongue speared into me. I fisted the blanket, my bodyshaking as Vazul stretched his tongue to impossible lengths, making it thicker as it thrust in and out of me.
