Page 74 of Demon Food

Then he chuckled. The sound was low, dark, and brutally sexy as it prickled down my spine without mercy.

“Point taken, Snow Fox.” He winked, carefully lifting the cigarette to his lips. “Point taken.”

My mind was buzzing such that, for a moment, I forgot what it was I was supposed to do. I’d not had to pleasure myself in a very long time, probably years, as there was always one of them to do it for me.

And gods, did they do it well.

I pulled open the tie of my trousers—his trousers that I was wearing. They were so big on me that it didn’t take much to wiggle my hand inside and grip my cock. Subtle was what I’d said. No sounds. Minimal movement.

His gaze zipped down to my hand.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I want you looking at me, that way I can see if they change.”

He followed direction splendidly, lifting his pretty gaze to meet mine. His eyes were intense, but not the demonic red of a normal vultus by this point. They were still the warm molten copper that apparently haunted my dreams now.

“And what if they do?” he asked. “What if they change?”

“Then that’s helpful for me to know, isn’t it?” I said, holding the knife firm. “So, keep them on me.”

He exhaled smoke, careful not to move as he tapped ashes onto the expensive sheets like he didn’t give a fuck about them. Or about anything. “For a moment, I forgot how bossy you were.”

I gripped my cock in my free hand. “Did you also forget how much you liked it?”

A smirk twitched his full lips. “I don’t think I could forget that.”

I let myself stare at his mouth where his sultry half-smile lingered. It’d be impossible not to use him as fuel to turn myself on, and why shouldn’t I? Beautiful, infuriating demon with all the long, inky lashes, the sharp cheekbones, and the jawline as cut as his stomach. Everything about him was just so damn masculine. That was it.

He was a champion of masculine energy, even down to the way he treated the security of the human chained to his room. No, especially that.

I stroked myself a little harder, leaning into all of it. The way he stared. The way he looked with the knife against his throat. The way he naturally smelled.

It was difficult to distinguish with the herbs he kept continuously burning, but beneath roasted cardamom and star anise was the distinct smell of ashes. And earth. Something sweltering. Something sweet. Something that begged to dance over my taste buds.

This was the second time I’d found myself desperate to taste his cum. Gods, just once.

I pressed my eyes shut and stroked a little faster, leaning into that scent, imagining what it would feel like leaning into his mouth. Touching my lips to his. How it’d feel to cup the muscle of his chest in my hand and smooth my thumb over his nipple just to be the reason it got hard.

When I reopened my eyes, he was still watching me. But something had changed.

It wasn’t like his eyes were bright red, but a tension had crept into his body, bunching his shoulders and constricting his jaw.

My nostrils flared as I continued stroking myself. Well, I maybe liked that, too, didn’t I? Not the danger, necessarily. But I maybe liked to know that I was…affecting him.

His Adam’s apple bobbed against the polished steel of the knife. “How does it feel?”

I stopped stroking to catch my breath. “You’ve never pleasured yourself?”

“We’re not talking about me,” he said, his voice low. “I want to know how it feels to you.”

My tongue wandered over the back of my teeth.

“Human,” he said, his voice more silken. “It’s just a question. That’s all.”

Yes, but a dangerous question? A question I should probably not be answering?

“It feels…” I trailed off, stroking myself from base to tip, picturing his hand instead of mine. “Adequate.”

He inched a fingerbreadth closer, eyes flitting down to the blade hindering his neck like he loathed it. “What would make it feel better than adequate?”