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He chuckled, like stalking someone was a completely normal thing to do. “Incubi are predators, Birdie. We gain magic by collecting or experiencing lust and have the gifts necessary to hunt it down. Tracking–stalking is such an accusatory term–comes naturally to us, and I like keeping an eye on you.”
I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure what bothered me more. Him stalking me, or the fact I liked it and craved his eyes on me.
“How was your lesson before the argument?” he asked. His hands slid from my back to my waist, rubbing my sides.
“A lot of repetition. We ran the same drills over and over again. He pushed me hard.”
“Desmond is one of the most magically gifted beings I know. He mastered his demon and warlock powers, and taught himself countless other forms of magic. I’ve seen him bring a man back from the dead before.” The serious look on Sebastian’s face told me he wasn’t kidding. “I know he can be a self-satisfied ass sometimes, but bear with him. He’s worth it.”
“What canyouteach me?” I asked in a teasing, sultry voice.
He squeezed some soap into his hands, lathering it up. His fingertips dug into my ass as he kneaded my cheeks, spreading the soap around. The longer he massaged my flesh, the more I became putty in his hands.
“For starters, shields. They’ll protect you against beings like Desmond who have influential powers like empathy. You just close your eyes, envision a door, and think the wordsyou can’t control my emotions.Then lock the door. You’ll have to recast it every few days, but it will protect you.”
It seemed very similar to what Azazel told me to do, except his was permanent. I mentally filed that away, grabbing a washcloth Sebastian had brought in with him. I lathered some soap on it and scrubbed over the dried blood decorating his skin.
“What kind of dirty job did you do? You kill someone?” I teased. The way they worded things made it sound like they really were part of a magical mafia sometimes.
“Yes.” His stark reply brought me out of my joking mood. “A patron attacked one of the dancers during a private dance at a strip club we run in Queens. He ended up being a magical trafficker, and he didn’t take kindly to her refusing ajob offerfrom him. We don’t tolerate trafficking, or people abusing our employees. We found out who he was working for, and tortured him. We sent some of his body parts back to his employer to send a message.”
Shivers ran down my spine. I was in the arms of a man who openly admitted to killing, torturing, and dismembering someone. My heart beat furiously against my chest as if to free itself from the grip Sebastian had on it. Maybe hewasa dangerous man, just like Azazel claimed. I should be tearing myself away from him and running as fast as I could in the other direction. I should be trying harder to escape this house and find a way out. But something deep within me made me stay put, because as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was attracted to his danger. I loved the fact that he was so brutal and crazy, because he used that same fierceness to protect and cherish me.
“That’s so hot,” I whispered in his ear. “What did you send them?”
He moved his hands to my breasts, massaging the sudsy bubbles into them at a torturously slow pace. His thumbs passed over my nipples, sending sparks of pleasure all over me.Fuck. Everything he did felt good.
“His hands.” He smirked at me, running his own under the water to wash away the soap. He turned me around, pushing between my shoulder blades to bend me over until I was touching my toes. “And we cut out his tongue because he used some offensive language.”
He started kneading my ass again, his hands running lower, until his thumb pressed against the sensitive skin of my puckered hole. Two of his fingers dragged across the seam of my cunt, and I whined for him to do something. Anything. The tension was killing me, I needed him to touch me,now.
“Hm, you’re already wet. Was that from me, the shower, or that little tiff in the gardens with Desmond?” He could ask whatever he wanted, but I refused to answer, or admit that I thought Desmond was attractive.
“Stop pussyfooting around,” I hissed. “You’re being a tease.”
“Oh, that’s adorable. You’re punny.Say please to the tease.”
I backed my ass into him, and his thumb slipped and pushed against my hole, the tip going in. The feeling of even the tip of his thumb inside me was electric. I needed more, but didn’t want to give in. I already felt so desperate for him and was letting him get the upper hand after only knowing him for a couple of months. These men may be powerful, but they were not going to control me. “No. I’m not begging you, fuck off.”
I straightened up again to a standing position, moving toward the shower door. Grabbing my hand, he spun me back around and pinned my back to the glass wall.
“I’m not done with you yet, Birdie. And I don’t appreciate you being a brat when I'm only trying to give you what you want,” he reprimanded me.
He grabbed the back of my neck firmly, moving me so my back was to him and kicking my legs apart. His hand was between my shoulder blades again as he pressed me down far enough that I could touch my toes. I was right back in the same position as before and not even putting up a fight about it.I am such a dick whore, it's not even funny.I looked through my legs and saw him kneel. His fingers spread my pussy, making me feel exposed, like a sacrificial offering in front of a monster.
A cool gust of air hit my wet pussy. It moved up, until the tail end of it brushed over my clit. I could feel myself clenching around nothing. The feeling of Sebastian blowing on my sensitive flesh was enough to almost make me come alone. Everything this man did was so in tune with my body. He treated it as if he owned it.
"Say please, bratty Birdie. I would tell you to use your words and ask for what you want, but we're on a limited time frame until dinner," he snarked, his British accent making his high handedness sound hot instead of condescending. He blew on me again, ghosting his thumb over my clit and sending the lightest wave of shock through my sex.
"Please,"I whispered, unable to take the anticipation much longer.
He removed his thumb, replacing it with the flat of his tongue. He wasted no time, flicking, sucking, and nipping at it until my arms and legs were shaking and I could barely hold myself up. My head knocked into the glass wall, and I let out a deep moan. My body felt as if it was on fire, burning with a desire I never thought I could feel for another person. I chanted his name like a prayer, feeling myself stretch around the blunt, thick finger he filled me with. He must have used his magic to make his finger vibrate inside me. My pussy fluttered around it as he continued to move, pushing me further and further toward falling apart. Once he found that special spot and rubbed against it, I knew I was done for.
I went from rarely orgasming to having at least one daily for the past three days. The sensation of having that wave of pleasure rise inside you until it crescendoed and exploded was addictive. It killed me every time. I was so close… All he'd have to do is keep sucking on my clit and fucking me with that ridiculously thick finger, and I would gush like a geyser. He suddenly stopped, and moved his face slightly away from me. A deep chuckle rumbled from him, and I could feel its vibrations against me.
"Birdie, after that little stunt you just pulled, do you think you deserve to come? You couldn’t be bothered to have manners and ask nicely before, so I want you to beg for it,now," he demanded.
My pride could jump off the Valenzano Bridge without a life vest. I didn’t care anymore about control. He could have it.
