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A low, mewling noise dragged me out of my swirling thoughts, making me turn to find the nurse passed out on the couch, shifting what seemed uncomfortably in her sleep.
Curious, I rose, making my way across the floor to stand near the end of the couch, looking down at her with her arm slung over the top of her head as her heavy breathing made her breasts press against the material of her tee, making her semi-hardened nipples poke out further.
I needed to walk away.
I knew it even before I felt my cock stirring again.
But I didn't take my own advice as I stood there, watching her fucking breathe for a moment before I noticed the way her back was arching a bit as she let out the noise again, as her leg slid against the couch cushion a bit rhythmically.
And I realized she wasn't making noises because she was uncomfortable.
Oh, no.
She was having some sort of sex dream.
"Mmm," she whimpered as her leg rose again, this time sliding up the back cushions until her foot planted. A low sigh escaped her as her other leg rose then hinged open, making her tee slip up, exposing her completely.
"Fuck," I hissed as desire made a sharp, stabbing sensation course through my cock as my gaze fell on her delicate pink pussy, slick with her desire.
Self-control had never been an issue for me. After this many years of life—both in hell and trapped above it—very few things felt important enough to lose my composure over.
Least of all sex.
If anything, some other so-called "sins" got harder to control the longer I'd been around.
My pride, namely.
But there was no denying that I was having zero self-control over myself twice in the span of a few hours around this woman.
It made no rational sense, either.
Yes, she was beautiful. So were millions of other women. Sure, she must have been smart and capable to do her job. And again, so were many other women.
I didn't understand my reaction to her.
Unless it was simple exhaustion and worry about Red mixed with Josephine's proximity and the fact that I hadn't gotten laid in a while.
Still, even knowing that, I didn't even try to muster the reserves of control to look away, to walk away.
I just fucking stood there. Staring at her pussy as her hips did little circles as her dream heated up. The hand above her head gripped the armrest of the couch as her back arched higher.
If she were any other woman, I would have reached down, ran my finger between her lips, worked her clit until she was screaming for release.
But she wasn't any other woman willingly, happily in our company, knowing what to expect from us.
She was a woman stolen off the street and being held captive very much against her will.
I couldn't put my hands on her.
I had no right even to stare at her in a compromised state.
Yet I didn't move away.
It was fucking Daemon that did it. Came stumbling out of his room with whatever fuck-buddy he'd brought home for the night, giggling and knocking something over in the kitchen, making Josephine's eyes snap open.
There was surprise, then panic as she tried to remember where she was, what she might be hearing.
Then her head shifted down toward the end of the couch, landed on me.
There was still some of the surprise and the panic, but it mingled with some other things right then too. Confusion, sure. But something else, something I couldn't put my finger on. It was something, though, that made me move toward her instead of away, lowering down on the armrest of the couch, making her suddenly aware of her compromised position, snapping her thighs together as her eyes went saucer round.
"Interesting dream you were having," I said, eyes roaming up her body, seeing the flush on her thighs, her neck, across her cheeks.
"I...I wasn't having a dream," she insisted, letting me know one thing about her for sure. She was an atrocious liar. Even by human standards.
"You were," I countered, sliding onto the cushion at her feet, making her scramble up slightly to give me more room.
"No."
"Your back was arching, your breathing was fast, your hips were rocking," I told her, watching her shake her head. "You were moaning," I added. "And," I went on, "your pussy was drenched."
"I, ah, no," she insisted, sounding breathless.
"Saw it myself. Want me to check to confirm?" I asked, lips curving up until I saw the way her lips parted, her breath sucked in.
"You can't."
"I can," I countered. "But only if you tell me to," I said, one fingertip teasing the inside of her ankle.
"I can't."
"You can't or won't?"
"Same thing."
"Very different," I shot back, finger tracing up the side of her calf, feeling the muscle flex under my touch.
It was right about then that Red let out a whimpering sound that made the nurse stiffen, head whipping over toward her for a moment. When she looked back at me, all the lingering desire was gone.
