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Chapter Seventeen
“What are you doing here, Oakley?” I ask warily. Now that Ash has gone and I don’t have to open up the shop, I could do with going back to bed for a few hours.
“You can’t expect to feed me like that all night long and not have me show up!” he exclaims indignantly. “I haven’t slept!”
“Neither have I!” I snap back without thinking. It’s only when he gives me an amused smirk, that I realize he’s implying he hasn’t slept all night because of me keeping him up. It’s too weird to comprehend. I shake the thought from my mind.
“So what do you want?”
“You.” His answer is emphatic.
“Aren’t you worried?” I tease.
“About what?” he scoffs.
“That if you can feel me, you’ll know if I’m not enjoying it as much with you, as I did with Ash?”
The incubus’ bright blue eyes flare with anger and challenge, and once again I catch a brief glimpse of how dangerous he really is.
“Sweetheart…” he begins.
“Yeah?” I bat my eyelashes at him, a pantomime of innocence.
“Run!” he growls, stalking toward me like a hunter.
That heady concoction of excitement and fear hits me, and I do as I’m told for once, turning tail and running like the hounds of hell are snapping at my heels. Which to be fair, with it being Silver Springs and all, they very well could be.
I don’t get far. Oakley can move for such a big guy. Within seconds I’m slammed into a wall so hard my breath is stolen from my lungs, and I worry that my earlier assessment of being thrown through the wall was accurate. Before I can think on it too much, I’m crushed—literally crushed—by the only thing in this house harder than the brick walls: Oakley’s chest!
“Oomph!” A raspy wheeze escapes, and I long to reach up and rub my bruised breastbone, but he’s got me pinned so tight I can’t even breathe properly, let alone slide a hand up between us.
The incubus doesn’t speak. He doesn’t make any sound at all. He just stares intently at me with aquamarine eyes that blaze so hot I swear I can see blue flames in their depths. Wrong footed, nervous, scrambled...I wilt under his severe scrutiny.
Fear trickles slowly down my spine as heat pools deep in my belly. Fuck. He glowers at me and my panties dampen. Double fuck. He unleashes a growl that’s not human, or even animal, before closing the gap between us.
His kiss devours me. It’s a good thing he has me pinned against the wall because there’s no way I could stand by the time he’s done with me. I’ve never experienced such a dominant kiss before. He takes my lips and owns them. It’s a complete possession of my mind, body and soul. Fuck me.
“Oh I will, sweetheart,” he chuckles against my throat. It’s more of a growly grumble, and the vibrations make my knees even weaker. I don’t even question how he knows what I’m thinking. You don’t need a mating bond to smell the arousal in the air.
Thankfully, it’s not all mine. From the hard press of his body against me, I know that Oakley wants me as much as I want him. If Oakley’s arms do funny things to my insides, and his kiss breaks my knees, his dick fucking ruins me. I’ve not even seen, held or tasted it yet, and the burning heat of it straining against his jeans and pressing into my abdomen has my brains melting and running out of my ears. Coherent thought isn’t possible, Jasmine has left the building.
Unconsciously, I arch my back and press up against Oak, loving his heat. His self control—if he ever had any—snaps. He yanks my off-the-shoulder dress down, exposing my bare breasts, at the same time as he reaches underneath it to grab my wet panties. His fingers curl, and in the time it takes me to blink, he fucking shreds them. Like, they’re gone. Completely disintegrated into tatters, reminiscent of Voldemort’s on-screen death.
Only, you know, way sexier.
As he slides a finger into me with no resistance, I’m unable to joke. Hell, I’m unable to think. I’m ashamed to admit that he makes quick work of drawing my orgasm out of me. It’s embarrassing how easily he makes me come with the curl of his finger and a few taps of the pad of his thumb on my clit. It’s too easy. It almost steals my joy.
Almost. Because he’s not done with me, not by a long shot. Pinning me in place with his hands on my hips, he sinks to his knees and proceeds to lap at the juices coating my thighs. He bites the sensitive flesh and I yelp, earning me a devilish grin. He ignores my mewling protests as he continues to nibble and suck his way up to my pussy, not changing his behaviour when he reaches my sensitive clit.
I insist it’s too much, but his fiendish chuckle against my sex just brings a second climax that bit closer. His tongue is the work of the devil...oh. Well, okay. But it’s that fucking good. As my second orgasm crashes over me, my legs do give way. I’m done. Panting hard, sweating, destroyed. I want the D.
“Fuck me,” I moan. I don’t quite know if it’s in response to what he’s just done, or if I’m begging for more.
“As you wish, sweetheart.” Oakley, of course, decides to interpret it as pleading for more. I don’t protest too loudly.
He makes short work of turning me around and pressing me against the wall. I hear the sharp sound of his zipper, the crinkle and tear of the foil wrapper, and then he’s...holy hell he’s fucking huge!
“Won’t...fit…” I grunt as he does his fucking best to tear me in half. He laughs. Bastard.
