Page 37 of Demon’s Temptation

She stroked him until he was shuddering, teetering on the brink, but still he didn’t go over. He gasped and growled but didn’t come. She wanted to demand he come but was worried she was doing something wrong.

“Hurt me,” he gasped out. “I need you to hurt me.”

She didn’t miss the shame in his words.

Why would he feel shame? She had no time to contemplate; she just wanted to give him what he needed. Grabbing the metal ruler sitting on his desk, she brought it down hard on his ass while she tugged his cock with the other hand.

His hips started jerking, his throaty moan the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. Then he came, spilling into her hand. She dropped the ruler and reached down, taking his balls with her other hand and squeezing gently. Not so hard to cause him serious pain but enough to cause discomfort, and like she thought, that sent another shudder through him along with the last of his orgasm.

He collapsed on the surface of his desk, breathing hard and fast.

Chaya stood there for a moment, pulling her shit together, because, yeah, what had just happened had been life-altering, the most real and honest thing she’d ever experienced.

When she had it somewhat together, she wiped her hand on Brent’s discarded shirt and moved around, crouching down in front of him again, running her fingers through his damp hair. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

He blinked up at her, but there was something behind his eyes, something she had no hope of comprehending. What she did recognize was hunger. Despite how hard he’d just come, he wanted her. Good thing, since she wasn’t finished with him, not yet.

“Yes, Mistress.” he said huskily.

She untied the belt from the drawer and released the buckle around his wrists then moved around, placing her hand at the small of his back when he stood on unsteady legs.

“You were amazing, Brent. The hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” She let her gaze move over him. “In fact, watching you come like that has made me wetter than I can ever remember being.”

His nostrils flared and he swayed toward her, hand lifting like he was going to touch her. “Hands at your sides,” she said, voice firm. “You touch when I say you can and not before.”

Brent growled.

Chaya loved it, loved how much he wanted her, that he couldn’t hide it from her. Her gaze dropped and she bit her lip. He was hard again already. Fuck.

As much as she wanted him inside her, she didn’t want to rush. She wanted the delayed gratification, the anticipation to build. But until then…

Stepping back, she slid her skirt down her thighs, let it drop to the floor, and kicked it aside, then did the same with her panties. In only her boots and corset, she moved to the couch, sat on the edge, and spread her thighs wide.

Brent made a rough and hungry sound that had her pussy clenching in anticipation. “On your knees, sub,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice even.

He dropped to the floor immediately, walking toward her on his knees. When he was close enough, she reached up and fisted his hair then forcefully guided his face between her thighs. Not that he was putting up any resistance.

“I want you to fuck me with that wicked mouth of yours and keep on doing it until I tell you to stop. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he said, voice nothing but gravel before she shoved his head the last inch, pressing his mouth to her wet pussy.

He moaned against her, opening his mouth and sucking, licking at her swollen wet flesh. She leaned back on one hand and kept the other in his hair, fisting the silky strands, tugging it, guiding as she ground against him.

And going by the way he moaned and growled every time she pulled his hair, he loved it. His hands came up suddenly and he gripped her ass, his big fingers digging into her flesh, holding her to his mouth before shoving his tongue deep in her pussy.

He’d touched her without her say-so, but she couldn’t find it in her to give a shit, not when she was so close to coming. He thrust into her, grinding his face into her clit, and she curled her legs around his head, the heels of her boots digging into his back, which only seemed to make him even wilder.

His vicious growl against her was so animalistic and raw she started coming. Unable to hold herself up any longer, she fell back, fisting his hair so hard and grinding up with such force it would be a miracle if he could still breathe.

When the last tremors pulsed though her and she got her shit somewhat under control, she ordered him to do it again. When she collapsed back the second time she must have passed out for a while because when she woke, he was holding her in his arms and the throw blanket that sat on the back of the couch was down and wrapped around her.

They lay there quietly for several minutes after she woke while he pushed her hair over one shoulder and smoothed his fingers over the fading marks Victor had left on her skin.

“Tell me you won’t go back to that club, Chaya,” he rasped.

She stilled. “I won’t stop my involvement in the war.”

“That wasn’t what I asked,” he said.