Living with a Demon

Chapter 10 - Leah

How his hands make me feel safe is an unknown I'll think about later. Right now, all I want is his mouth on my clit, sucking it, flicking it with his talented tongue, and biting it to mark it as his.

The desire to have him place an ownership mark on my body has my back arching and hips bucking.

Firm hands hold me down, preventing me from moving. This shouldn't make me all hot and bothered, but it does.

"Neither is happening, Leah." Irel's voice sounds distorted. "Damon is real. My advice is to embrace everything that's occurring. Scream your head off. The house is soundproof."

My hands switch to the wood underneath my ass to grip. Not having Damon's hair to thread my fingers through is torturous. I have to hold on to something, and yanking on a man's head when he's between my legs has always been a kink of mine.

"Damon, if you know something about the prick on earth that puts Leah in danger. Force his hand. You know he can't harm her with you by her side. Prove to him that he's lost her. I've heard the rumors of what sex demons can do to ex-lovers of their soulmates. I suggest using everything in your arsenal."

I barely hear what she's saying when my undies are ripped from my body and discarded. The sharp bite to my clit has me spiraling, screaming out my release.

The sound of a door slamming shut vibrates in my head. It's there, but I'm so far gone that I don't realize what it means.

Damon's tongue swirls around my engorged clit, tasting my nectar, drinking it down his parched throat. Hands lift my thighs and place them over unseen shoulders, keeping me locked in place.

I cry out when his beard scratches against my sensitive skin. It rubs deliciously, bringing forth mewls and whimpers.

"Please," I beg. The need grows tightly, winding and constricting within my gut.

He denies me.

I'll be at the brink of orgasming, of feeling the most beautiful pleasure I've ever known, and then he's moving his mouth over my thighs, kissing and scraping his teeth.

I don't know what to do with my hands. They don't have their anchors. My breasts are swollen and red from both our fingers pinching and twisting. When he slaps my left breast, I scream out what I thought was a release. It wasn't.

Whatever power Damon holds over sex, he's capable of manipulating how magnificent or weak an orgasm is. All he gives me are mini-quakes. They don't satisfy me. Teasing me at best.

I'm a sobbing, begging mess when he lifts me and places me down on the table. I immediately reach for the wood behind my head to hold myself in place. He's given me an anchor.

"Damon!" I scream when he uses magic to tie my ankles above my head. I've no idea what they are latched to, but I can't bring them down or together. I'm spread open like a buffet to him. My pussy glistening and weeping to cum.

My fingers nearly break the wood when I feel his tongue swirl between my ass cheeks. Derrek told me it was disgusting and he'd never touch me there. The jolt of pleasure from a simple brush of Damon's tongue has my toes curling and hips arching off the bed.

Fingers trail up my stomach to brush across my nipples, pinching and tweaking them. I mewl, begging to touch him. To feel his body under my fingertips.

Hours tick by. He continues to give me the minuscule orgasms. No gasping for air or white dots flashing behind closed lids.

Sluggish, my arms rest beside me as my world teeters on exhaustion and pleasure. I continue to crave what he holds hostage from my body.

"Please," I whimper, "please, Damon." I thrash my head from side to side. The light above the table was turned off hours ago. Light from the tinted window bathes me in a soft glow. "I don't think I can take much more."

Arms wrap around my back and legs, lifting me into the air. In a whoosh of movement, I'm being set down on my bed.

Super speed?

Check!

An insanely talented tongue?

Check!

Not nice at giving mind-blowing orgasms?

Check!

A dark and dangerous rumble breaks the silence of the room. Flashing my eyes where Damon should be, I'm heartbroken to see nothing.

"I'm hearing things now," I cry out, rubbing my hands down my face. All my emotions are heightened and stir crazy.

The sound happens again, this time when my legs are yanked apart, and a tongue slides from my ass hole to my clit.

"Damon?" I gasp when it happens for a third time. "How?" I slur when he sends me spiraling through six mini-orgasms.

I'm panting for air as dots blink before my eyes, and I know he's still holding back the big finale.

My legs spasm when he crawls between them, pressing his hardened cock against my weeping and overstimulated clit. Pain mixed with pleasure is my new drug. I crave it. Thirst for it.

His mouth trails along my flesh, kissing it, sucking so hard I watch as the bruise forms. I want it. I ache for all his touches.

"Damon, please. Please let me cum," I plead, my hands itching to yank his mouth to mind. They burn to touch him.

He ignores my pleas to taste my flesh.

"Dammit, Damon! Fuck me already!" I shout frustratedly. "Why won't you fuck me?" Desperation turns into heart-sopping sobs.

Growling, his mouth attacks mine. He thrusts his tongue deep within, taking and dominating. I taste myself, and it's exhilarating. Does he love it? Does he crave to smell like my cum?

His fingers slide down my chest, teasing my hardened nipples. Reaching my weeping pussy, he thrusts in two thick fingers, rough and fast.

I'm a mewling mess in his arms. The pressure of his body against mine is addicting. I try to claw at him, to wrap my legs around his waist, and thrust up. There's nothing! "Why won't you let me touch you!" I sob hysterically.

One hand pounds my pussy while the other threads its fingers through my silky soft hair, yanking my head to the side. He controls my body, moving it for us to receive maximum pleasure.