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FORTY
Stan buried his face in his hands. He should not have done it. Should not have asked her. Should not have touched her. Should not have stroked her until she'd let out that first joyful scream. Should not have enjoyed it so much he'd wanted to do it all over again, before devouring her like some maddened animal until she'd screamed his name, then offered herself up for more...
His trousers were so tight with his arousal, if she'd managed to touch him through them, he was certain he'd burst. Or the trousers would, which would be just as bad, for then there'd be nothing between him and her hot, wet, tight...oh God, he wanted her so much...
He was her protector, not her ravisher.
Those little mewling noises she made when she was about to reach the peak of her pleasure...
He was her protector!
He should be saving his claws for ripping out the throats of anyone who threatened her, not raking them gently along the wet walls of her most secret place as she writhed beneath him in unabashed pleasure.
His horns were for gouging out the eyes of those who looked at her wrong, not for her to wrap her fingers around as she guided his face between her thighs, so that he might drink her sweetness from the source.
He'd even wrapped his tail around her ankles, holding her to him, so that she could not close her legs as he devoured her, taking her with his tongue as he dared not do with his cock.
He was her protector. He should not be having such thoughts about returning to her bedchamber, spreading her legs wide, and burying himself inside her so deep he would not know where he ended and she began. And then making her scream, not once, but over and over again, until she was so drunk on pleasure she could no longer move from the bed until he lifted her from it, carrying her in his arms just as he had the first week they'd met.
Stan turned on the water in the sink, setting it as cold as it would go, before freeing his cock to thrust it into the icy hell spurting from the spout.
He was her protector. He deserved this punishment, this chill, for to accept the bliss that she offered so willingly was to accept his place in hell. For if he ravished her, even if she wished it, he would no longer be her protector. He would be just another demon, and he'd likely be sent straight back to hell, where he belonged.
"What are you doing?"
She stood in the doorway, staring at him, still wearing nothing but a short nightgown that did little to hide her bare legs, or the temptation that lay between them.
"Trying to cool my blood," he said. Though he wasn't sure if he had blood. His cock didn't ache quite as much, though. Maybe the cold water had dulled his arousal, or perhaps it had turned him numb.
"I could have taken care of you. Could still take care of you, if you wish. Women can give head, too, you know."
Stan shook his head. "And it tastes like eggplant, you said." If anything, it cooled his ardour further.
She laughed softly. "Well, one guy did. I never did it again. Maybe demons taste different. I'd be willing to try. It's only fair, after you...and I would have...but why didn't you?"
There were tears in her eyes, he saw now. He'd hurt her somehow. Perhaps not physically, but...emotionally. Maybe.
"To lie with you would be a sin. One that would damn my soul forever. I am a demon now, but as your protector, I believe I have been given a chance to do better. To change the fate of my soul. So to take what you offer without marrying you would condemn me to hell, and possibly you as well. Some protector that would make me."
Understanding dawned in her eyes. "I'm still not sure I believe in any of that, but I gather you do, and seeing as you're actually a demon, maybe I should believe in at least some of it. I still don't see how me giving you a blowjob is bad and what you did isn't, because I can tell you, there was nothing bad about any of that. If you learned all that from books, you are one hell of a scholar, and I can say that as a student myself whose mind and body you just blew. Wow, Stan. Just...wow."
"I am a terrible protector. I don't know why you don't just send me back to hell right now."
She took a step closer. "Do you want to go back?"
"No! I never want to go back. I want to redeem myself. Maybe earn a place in...the other place...where I will see Carline again."
Sadness slumped her shoulders at the mention of Carline. "I wish I'd been able to find out more about her. There's so little about the women of the early colony, and even less about her in particular. Maybe if there is an afterlife and you do see her in it, you can ask her why she did what she did. Then maybe you could have some closure. Or maybe you could offer to do to her what you just did to me, and she's sure to forgive you almost anything after that. Though...sex probably isn't a thing in heaven, so maybe not."
Stan should have been thinking of Carline. He should have been listening to what Alethea was saying, but he could not shake the image that came to mind – of her, lying on the bed before him, begging, until he gave her exactly what she wanted. What they both wanted.
But it wasn't Carline on the bed. He could not even remember her voice, or what she looked like. No, all he could see was Alethea, hear her voice. Begging him for more.
Would it be so bad to surrender to temptation, if it meant he could stay here for Alethea's lifetime? He'd never see the sun again, but he would trade that for spending every night in her bed. Every night inside her, granting her every desire.
Better than heaven, surely.
But was one short lifetime of pleasure worth spending eternity afterward in hell?
He wished he knew. If only he remembered just how bad hell was...then he would know for sure what to choose.
One thing was certain – if he had to choose between Carline and Alethia, the ghost of his past or the glorious soft sweetness beckoning him in the present, he knew exactly what he wanted.
"Would you come to bed? Just to hold me in your wings again. I'll put my knickers back on, and you can button your pants back up. So we don't...tempt...each other again."
Nothing would stop her from tempting him. One look, one touch...and he'd never forget her taste. But he could resist temptation. He'd done it before. He could do it again.
Stan nodded, and followed her to bed.
