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Systorak is quickly able to take the lead, lifting the thigh that his big, strong hand grips and wraps it around his waist. I gasp as he pulls me in close, the hand lingering near the thin fabric of my thong.
He begins to dance a kind of demonic tango with me, my breasts pressing against his chest as he carries me across the floor, an extra set of hands sliding up and down my torso with a sensual tease. My pussy pulses under the thin barrier between us, our hips swaying together like waves crashing against a shore. His forehead presses to mine as his warm breath cascades over my bare chest.
The world around us evaporates, and we become one, our bodies moving from one sensual movement to another. Toward the end of the dance, he spins me around so that my back and ass are pressing against him, and I lean into him, pinned against his chest, as my heart flutters like the wings of a bird. My lips are delectably close to my shoulders, and I can’t help but moan with anticipation as I grind into him, a sultry movement of my hips taking over.
I raise my hands in the air and pull the back of his head, begging for those lips to be on me. His hands are on my waist as I groove against him, lowering to my thighs, teasing my dampening loins that will burst the second any part of him brushes against it.
I whimper up to him, feeling like a puddle in his arms.
“Systorak …”
The song is about to commence, so he takes my hands from behind his head and laces them with his own, and runs them down my body. I feel myself losing my breath and bite my lip as he makes me brush my own fingertips from the swanlike curve of my neck, over the bountiful curve of my breasts, down my torso, and rest against the pulsing heat of my thighs.
I gasp again, knowing I have not and will never be this turned on again in my entire life. I vibrate in every cell, all atoms aflame after being ignited by his touch.
“You’re so bad,” I whisper in a daze.
“You have no idea …” he whispers into my ear, making me shiver.
He then spins me around one final time, brings a hand to the small of my back, and then dips me down, holding me strong and firm with all four of his arms.
One of my thighs is wrapped around his waist, and his cock pulsates beneath it. I gaze upside down at the spectators, still scowling, yet stunned at the sensuality of our movements.
The song strikes a final chord, and Systorak carefully pulls me up by the wrist. One hand remains on the small of my back as the crowd reluctantly claps, and he uses the opportunity to lower his face to my cheek.
“I want to make love to you. Right now.” His voice is tender, husky, and aching with need.
I bite my lips and roll my eyes back as his lips find my nape, wet and supple, making my nipples hard as bricks under my dress.
My chest rises and falls madly, and he strokes under my thigh. I gaze up at him, lips still tucked under my teeth, and nod.
“Then make love to me,” I say sweetly, my voice a low murmur beneath the strums of another tune.
FOURTEEN
LANA
I have never been so riveted and aroused in my entire life. The moment my lips close to finish their sentence, Systorak grabs me by the wrist while a new waltz begins in the background of the heated dalliance. He begins to pull me through the crowd of disgruntled demons, but he doesn’t care about them. Neither do I. My body is a volcano, trembling in anticipation of a cataclysmic eruption.
We move through the crowd under the swim of bright lights, and I feel surreal, detached almost from my body, yet, utterly present. Every molecule in my body quivers like a pinball aching for release. All of the colors around us blend into one single blot as he pulls me, always gently, through the hallway we had initially come through.
I find myself laughing, greatly amused, and thrilled with the adventurous spirit this demon has summoned in me. To be frank, I never thought this side of me existed, but something about his keen attraction to me is making me feel things I thought would never see the light of day.
Systorak, the towering handsome devil, knocks frantically on what looks like a bathroom door, one hand still gripping my hand gently. He tries the handle, then grunts when it doesn’t open.
I continue to giggle, lost in the frenzy of our shared excitement.
“Fuck,” he mutters, grinning.
He glances around the golden, opulent, and shimmering hallway, then turns to me with a grin so bursting with lust that I feel I could climax on the spot.
“What?” I say breathlessly.
“Come with me, my sweet treasure,” he says, then offers me a mischievous wink.
In the past, such gestures could not be trusted. I would never have allowed a man to take me around a place I’d never ventured into on my own without strict rules and discussion beforehand. And even if it were to take place in a spontaneous explosion of hunger for each other’s naked bodies, the excitement would dissolve in the pit of my gut. Mistrust can feel acidic, which can spoil any form of a physical affair.
I feel none of that with Systorak as he pulls me once again through the hallway. The click of my heels against the glowing flooring is muffled yet poignant. I see the way his shirt strains against his mountain of a back, the rippling of muscles beneath the fabric, and those extra hands dangling, his fists clenched with eager zest.
