Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“Noted.” He started stroking her pussy, his finger sliding between her folds, rubbing her clit, circling her opening, squeezing her folds together so they in turn squeezed her clit.
Oh God. His touch was soft yet ruthlessly demanding, insisting on her submission. It also held a taunting edge, keeping her in a state of suspense. “Is this you punishing me for not being totally forthcoming with you?” she asked, her breathing a little choppy.
He looked surprised by the question. “This isn’t a punishment.”
“Then why are you dragging it out?”
“Because I can,” he whispered, lathering some of her slickness over her clit. “You’re mine to do with as I wish. And right now, I wish to tease the fuck out of you.”
Wonderful.
He traced the snake on her throat with his tongue. “I do like this brand.”
Just this morning, she’d found herself admiring the sight of it in the mirror . . . and her inner smile had died when she thought of how she’d eventually have to watch it fade. It was the downside of such possessive marks. You got to literally see the entity’s interest in you dim little by little, until eventually it was gone.
“What is it?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“I don’t want to tell you.” She groaned as his finger sank inside her.
“Why not?”
“It’ll give you too much power.”
His eyes gleamed. “I like power.”
Yeah, she knew that.
“Tell me,” he coaxed, lazily thrusting his finger in and out of her.
“Don’t wanna.”
“Naomi.”
She shook her head, bucking as a second finger slipped inside her.
“Tell me.” He curved his fingers and pressed them on just the right spot, but he didn’t rub, didn’t thrust, didn’t do anything. He just kept them right there like that, both a promise and a threat. “What were you thinking about?”
A low whimper slipped out of her. “That I’ll have to watch the brand fade at some point. We both know it’ll happen sooner or later. Probably sooner. You once told me that your demons tire of things and people easily. And, well, I’m not gonna like it much.” Neither would her entity, in truth, but it didn’t want him or his demons to know that yet.
Long seconds ticked by as he stared at her, his gaze unreadable. Then his fingers began to move, rubbing over that hypersensitive spot inside her. “None of them are anything close to bored with you. Nor am I.”
She moaned as he took her mouth again with blatant possession. Their tongues tangled as he kept pumping his fingers into her, driving her closer and closer to an orgasm.
Then it hit.
She arched. Moaned. Bucked. Scratched at him.
The release subsided, and she sagged against him—panting and shaking, her inner muscles still fluttering around his fingers.
Warm lips settled at her ear. “If I wore your demon’s brand, I wouldn’t like knowing I’d have to watch it grow fainter; that it would one day vanish as if it had never been.”
Drawing back to meet his eyes, she studied them closely; found only sincerity there. “So we’re even.”
“We’re even.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Parked outside her mother’s psychic shop the following Saturday, Naomi downed the last of her smoothie. Located not far from a small theme park, the shop wasn’t close to Tia’s home. The woman didn’t drive—her license had been revoked again—so Alfie generally took her to and from work. Today, however, he had car trouble. As Naomi was due to meet Tobe at a jewelry store near the shop, she’d offered to pick her mother up.
She screwed the cap on her empty bottle and stuffed it into a cupholder. Tobe wanted help selecting a birthday gift for his grandmother, who collected brooches like it was her purpose in life.
Really, when it came to demons, you couldn’t go wrong with any kind of jewelry so long as it was shiny. Even if, like Naomi, you weren’t a person who wore bling a lot, your inner entity would still go gaga for the stuff.
She nabbed her keys and slipped out of the car. A breeze whispered over her, cool and refreshing. Though it was early evening, plenty of pedestrians dotted the sidewalk—strolling, window-shopping, or stopping to chat with others.
Using her key fob, Naomi locked her vehicle. She waved at Konstantin, who’d parked a few car spaces behind her. She’d been keeping a close lookout for signs of any other tails, but she hadn’t spotted any. There’d been no more peeps from the Lemures, but a few notable things had occurred . . .
Several well-known hangouts for dark practitioners had exploded—thanks, Dad. Subtle is thy middle name.
Jolene had approached a former dark practitioner who—anxious to compensate for the misdeeds he’d committed in his younger years—acted as a consultant for all things dark magick. He’d examined the cleric’s sword and explained that it was bespelled to psychically weaken its victims, making them easier to defeat. Lovely.