I smiled and closed my eyes.
Several hours later, I awoke again, utterly aroused by the scent of the female in my arms. She was perfect. Curvy. Confident. Beautiful, both inside and out. And I wanted her more than I wanted to breathe.
But the last time we woke up in bed together, she’d ended up hating me, and I didn’t want a repeat of that, so I needed to tread carefully. I needed to make this abouther.
She craved sex as much as I did.
If I pleased her rather than myself, she’d understand that sacrifice better than most.
I kissed her neck, evaluating her steady breaths. She was nestled into my arms with her back to my chest. One of my arms rested beneath her head, while the other was draped over her waist.
The perfect position to slide into her from behind.
And also the perfect position to pleasure her with my hand.
I pressed my palm to her belly, gently molding my flesh to hers, then allowed my touch to drift south to the apex between her thighs.
So soft, I marveled, her skin like silk beneath my fingertips. Sex demons often kept themselves well-groomed. I manscaped, too. It made our bodies more visually attractive to humans. Of course, it didn’t take much to lure one of them, or several, into bed.
Guinevere moaned as my fingertip grazed her sensitive nub, and her curvy ass pressed invitingly into my groin.
“Good morning,” I murmured into her ear as I continued my light caress below. “Sleep well?”
“Mmm,” she answered, shifting to hook her leg over mine. It left her wide open, something Zebulon would absolutely respond to if he were here. Alas, he had to work. Which left me to play with our sweet succubus.
She rocked her hips back against me, making a slow circle against my cock that sent electricity through my body.
Clever girl, I thought, amused by her sensual antics. But more than that, I felt a glimmer of hope, too.
This reaction was a much better reaction than yesterday. While I was absolutely still in the proverbial doghouse, I hoped we could move past my mistakes and start thinking about the future. Because now that I’d tasted her, I doubted I would ever be able to stop. And I suspected Zebulon felt the same way.
I slid a single finger inside her warmth, grinning at her sharp intake of breath and the way she moved against my hand, seeking her pleasure with an abandon I fully understood and respected.
“More,” she gasped out.
“More what?” I asked, purposely keeping my touch slow and languid, drawing out the moment and her pleasure with it. I wanted her to explode like she did last night. I wanted her to scream my name. Shake. Moan.Writhe.
I added a second digit and ground my dick against her ass. She hissed, then reached around to try to redirect my thrust.
“Oh, no,” I whispered. “This is about you, sweet girl. Not me.” I shifted to guide her onto her back, then propped myself up on an elbow to admire her gorgeous form. Her legs were still spread, welcoming my caress, and her nipples practically begged me for a taste.
I leaned down to wrap my lips around her rosy nipple, sucking it between my teeth. She gasped, and bowed off the bed, throwing her head back when I nibbled at her skin.
My fingers continued to tease her, giving her what she craved in slow, sensual pumps. My palm applied pressure to her mound as well, just enough to make her moan, but not enough to send her over the edge.
Not yet.
“I’m so hot,” she breathed.
“What do you want?” I asked her.
“You.”
“Beg for it,” I teased her, hooking my fingers deep.
“Fuck you,” she said with a gasping laugh. She snatched at my hair and dragged me into a kiss that nearly undid my resolve to make this just about her.
Which, I realized, was precisely the point.
