His gaze narrows. “I would not be here if I could so easily. Yes, Icouldleave, if I really wanted to, but it would require me to break through the floor. I doubt you wish for me to do that.”
Ugh.I sigh, my hope dwindling. I lick my lips, glancing at the bulge hanging below his hips, then tear my eyes away, chastising myself.
I saw enough to be alarmed.Ughingagain, I blink hard, forcing myself to focus. “The circle is mostly gone, though. Do you think it has to do with how or why you’re here?”
He shrugs and it’s a very human gesture, so normal that it throws me off.I think he’s trying to build my trust.I immediately trust him less.
“Since I do not sense mischief from you—which is a shame, little witchling—I will honor you by speaking truthfully. We seem, by some coincidence, to want the same thing. I cannot depart from this realm as I should be able too. I am heavy upon your circle, like I am being weighed down, and I do not believe it is because I am not within my usual element.”
I start to speak, but he holds up his hand and looks down at his tail. I follow with my eyes as he moves his lower half over the edge of the circle. After a moment it seems to get caught on something invisible, and he pulls it back within. “Like I expected… Though what is holding me here is weak and becoming weaker, it will be some time before I am able to move freely in this realm or to return to my own.”
Sitting back, I nod. “That’s… good.”
He gives me a tight smile in response. “Itisweakening, human.”
“Grace. My name’s Grace. Stop calling me human.”
He tilts his head to the side again, and I try not to let the way his lips curve into a smile twist my gut. As to why I’m so curious about his… other parts, Iknowwhy. He might not be beautiful, but he is still exceedingly attractive, and I’ve been starving for attention and affection for years. Not because it wasn’t offered. Because I avoid it.
I have to avoid it. Sex led to dangerous things for me. I vowed never to do it again.
Considering such a thing, with him—it—ademon—isn’t smart. If anything, right now, I’m way, way out of my depth and mostly isolated with him until I can figure out how to make him go away.
He makes a thoughtful noise, reclining back on his elbows again. “Grace? Now I know it must be fate, because why else would you be named such an ironic thing?”
“I know what you mean and it’s just a coincidence, like everything else.” I don’t like his talk of fate. “What’s your name?” I ask, quickly changing the subject. “If you have a name, I mean.”
He leans forward and starts to slide toward me, his eyes narrowing mischievously. I grit my teeth, forcing my feet to remain in place. I will not let him intimidate me.
“Sepher is my name,” he whispers darkly. “It’ll be our little secret.”
My lips part as he gets right up to the edge of the circle, staring heavily up at me. The hints of mirth and darkness have all but vanished, leaving only his blatant curiosity behind.
Under his eyes, I feel my damp skin flush as the blush heating my cheeks spreads through the rest of me. I feel like a specimen under his perusal. Am I just as strange and intriguing to him as he is to me?
The idea gives me a new sense of power, and I relax, once more shifting my eyes away from his face and to the rest of him, taking my newfound shred of confidence and running with it.
“I like your name, Grace.” He says it the same way he’s looking at me, filled with fascination and something else, something I can’t or don’t want to place.
“I’m indifferent to yours,” I mumble, my eyes finally landing on his dick. Forgetting how close we are now, my attention is completely snared by the hefty mass I’ve been trying to politelyavoid seeing, and suddenly I’m staring directly at it, figurative hellfire spearing through me.
Like a fat black and green eggplant, Sepher’s cock hangs from the front of his tail, just below his hips. Large from base to tip, the girth of it is the same and completely smooth all the way through, rounding out at the top. It rests on a sack that looks like it could be one large testicle and appears to be the source of his long, thin tentacles. They originate from around the base of his appendage on either side, four in total. Shifting along the floor and around in the air, he seems in control of them all the way to their fanned-out tips.
His cock jerks, swelling slightly, enlarging further, and my eyes go wide as I draw away.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, agog, imagining fitting such a thing inside me.
“There is nothing left holy about me, and that includes my genitalia, little witchling. Though I commend you for your courage. I have been told my cock is fearsome and given the way you are reacting, it is still true.” His voice is rich with self-satisfaction; I step back and press my lips together, averting my eyes again, unwilling to give him any more of it.
But my reaction is too little, too late.
He does have a fearsome cock, that much is true, and I’d just made it more so.
I made it hard.
Chapter 5
The Machine That Steams and Cleans
