Page 10 of When I Accidentally Summoned a Demon

“You must truly be a descendant of Lilith herself,” I rasp, my voice thick with reverence. “To hold such power of witchcraft over one such as I. To summon these…chemicals…with but a touch.”

Her cheeks flush an even deeper, lovelier red. She bites her bottom lip, smiling affectionately up at me through wet lashes. “That’s one of the sweetest compliments anyone has ever given me.”

My chest puffs out. A Duke of Hell, praised. A sliver of pride cuts through me, and the monstrous organ jerks upward, slapping against my stomach as I draw close to the edge of ruin once again.

But I am entirely unprepared for her next move.

Shock lances through my core as Vesper shifts onto her knees. She leans forward, her hair falling as a ruffled curtain around her face, and folds her plump, pouty mouth directly over the flared tip.

“Raaaghh—” I curse, lurching forward as a jolt of pure lightning strikes my spine.

I heave, my hips bucking involuntarily against the scalding, wet heat of her mouth. The contrast of the freezing water pounding my shoulders and the infernal furnace of her oral cavern shatters the last fragment of my control. The growl deepens, tearing out of my chest as a monstrous, vibrating rumble. I release again, jetting my seed directly onto her tongue.

Still, the heat rises. Still, the pressure mounts.

My claws lengthen, but I ball my hands into fists, careless of the blood I shed.

“Mistress,” I gasp out, staring down at her, panic shredding through me. “Mistress, stop.”

She pulls back slightly, her lips slick and shining.

“You must save yourself,” I beg, my chest laboring as if I’ve been running through the lava fields for a century. “If any similar urgings or chemicals must be rising in you…flee. I am certain I will surely die from this unending barrage.”

Vesper only giggles, a light, melodic sound that contradicts the great and terrible power she wields. She presses a soft, lingering kiss to the very tip of my throbbing flesh. And then, maintaining eye contact, she takes me down deeper, sliding her lips past the ridge until her throat swallows the head entirely.

All thought ceases.

My hands fly up, hovering right above her curls, trembling with the desperate urge to hold her in place. I dare not touch her; the risk of my savage strength hurting her is too great. But Vesper blinks, reaches one hand up, and places it gently over the back of mine, pulling my palm down to rest against her scalp, pressing my fingers into the soft, heavy strands. She is giving me permission.

My claws instantly retract, as if by some innate need to honor and protect this confounding mortal.

I grip her hair. I grip it like it is the last frayed tether holding my soul from the eternal void. I anchor myself to her as she works, her suction tight, her tongue swirling. She is the core fiber of my existence in this moment. The inevitable climax hits me yet again with a cataclysmic, soul-rending eruption pouring down the back of her throat. And one almighty, certain thought seals itself like a brand in me.

I have found a new master. A Mistress. A goddess to worship, far mightier and more magnificent than any ruler of the Pit.

When my final spasms fade, Vesper rises slowly to her feet. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, laughing breathlessly as she stares at my member. It remains fully rigid, still throbbing and violently pulsing against the air, a stubborn monolith of my demonic stamina.

“Are you doing any better?” she wonders, stepping closer to skate her delicate, water-wrinkled fingers along the corded muscles of my bicep.

I flinch at the electric contact. I scan my unyielding erection, a physical manifestation of my eternal damnation, and then watch her face. An unshakable resolve settles into the marrow of my bones. She is my doom and my salvation.

Slowly, I drop to my knees on the hard tiles before her. The cold water cascades over both of us as I sweep my gaze across her, settling on her face.

“Daughter of Lilith, please spare me from this unending fire,” I rumble softly, a solemn oath carved into the air. “Whatever spell you have placed upon me, please spare me, and I will do whatever penance or punishment you deem necessary. I will be your servant, your slave. I renounce all fealty to others and pledge myself only to you, Mistress, Lady Vesper Larson. If you would but find some method to put me out of this misery…”

Vesper blinks, tilting her head as she looks down at me. A warm, breathtaking smile curves her lips, and she gives a half-shrug, shaking her head in amused disbelief. “Well,” she murmurs, her voice like a sweet, dark promise. “I guess there’s only one thing left to do.”

My cock jerks violently. Behind me, my spade-tipped tail wags, a pathetic thumping against the glass door, driven by a thread of fragile hope.

Her emerald eyes darken, the pupils expanding to swallow the green. She chews on her bottom lip, inhaling a ragged breath. Then, to my utter shock, she lowers herself down to the shower floor with me.

She straddles my thighs. “Just fyi: this is not a pity fuck. I want this. I want you.”

The world drops out from beneath me. The wonder filling my system is paralyzing as she settles her hips directly into my lap, wrapping her smooth, bare legs snugly around my waist. She reaches down, her fingers guiding the blistering, weeping tip of my shaft directly to the silken heat of her entrance.

The heat inside me rears up like a leviathan breaching the surface, diving straight for my groin with a ferocious intensity. At the exact same moment, all instinct takes over. My tail snaps out like a lightning strike, whipping around her waist to bind our pelvises flush together, securing her to me with an inescapable, possessive finality.

“Whoa, Big Guy.” She comments but does not jerk away. If anything…she yields.