Happy to Burn (Dark Desires) (5 page)

His fingers gripped the sides of my underwear, slowly pulling them down. Inching them as his mouth got closer. I swore I was going to explode before he even got my underwear off.

He pulled the lace from my hips, sliding it over my legs. I clenched my thighs together to keep the pressure and warmth below.
 

He stood. One hand gripped the lace of my underwear. The other unzipped his pants to free his cock.
 

He brought my lace to his nose and inhaled deeply. I moaned at the sight. I gripped my breasts as he made a sound that was more animal than human and gripped himself roughly.

He dropped my underwear and removed his pants and boots.

“Hurry, Spencer,” I purred, my voice higher, more feminine as the succubus side of me pushed closer to the surface with my arousal.

He quickly pulled his skirt over his back to the sound of popping seams and ripping fabric, then grabbed one of my ankles roughly, pulling it away from the other.

His mouth was on me before I knew it.
 
His lips demanding. His tongue driving into me.
 
My hands sunk deeply into his dark hair and I exploded. And so did something in the room.
 

I rode the waves of his tonguing as far as I could until he slipped his fingers into me again. Then I exploded again as his lips closed around my clit and sucked me into another climax.

I screamed his name and clenched my sharpened nails in his hair, gripping him to me, trying desperately not to score his scalp. I shuddered against his lips, stars flashing before my eyes, objects dropping to the ground and clunking noisily in the background.

Pleasure pulsed as his tongue stroke gentled. My hand dropped from his head and he stilled between my legs.

I sat up, watching as he rose from his position. He was all animal now.

A graceful paranormal mix of deviance-hungry incubus and blood-thirsty killing vampire. The ultimate predator.

“My turn,” I leaned forward slowly reaching for his stiff cock and licking my lips.

He grabbed my hand before I could touch him. He was quick. Completely in his paranormal self. No longer the mild-mannered photographer he pretended to be.

“No. I’ll come,” he said his jaw clenching. I barely recognized his voice. It was deeper, huskier.

I smiled impishly, then made a point to lick my short, sharp succubus fangs. “That’s kind of the point, Spencer.”

He pushed me back gently then covered my body with his.
 
“The point—” he said maneuvering himself between my legs and spreading them wider. “—is to fuck you.” He found my slit and pushed inside.
 

My back arched and I cried out as he filled me to hilt, then pushed further still.
 

It had been so long. I groaned and growled and pulled against him.

He drew back, then rammed forward.

I yelped at the sweet invasion and gripped the sheets holding on for dear life.
 

This was what I'd wanted, wasn’t it?
And he was giving it to me, with exquisite precision.

I transferred my hands to his backside and dug my nails into his ass, pleading for more. He growled harshly, then gave it to me.
 

He lifted my leg with one arm and supported himself with the other as he fucked me. Hard, swift and sure.

I couldn’t stop myself. I was going to come again and soon.

I felt my muscles clamping down around him.
 

My body hummed with magic and somewhere deep inside me, I sensed the danger. There was a cold building in the center of my chest, but the heat of his body against mine forced me to ignore it.

“Not yet, Delilah,” he groaned, slowing his paced.

“I-I,” I moaned as he hit my spot. “I can’t help it.” My groan morphed into a high-pitched succubus cry as the orgasm hit me.

“Shit, Delilah,” he groaned. His stroke quickened, he raised my leg higher and rammed me harder. His neck muscles clenched, the hand on my thigh gripped tighter and he groaned as I felt his cock explode inside of me.

I stilled for a moment as both sides of my heritage, succubus and witch, screamed as a cold, sharp forced pierced my heart and buried itself deep.

Spencer roared, his cock still pulsing, then struck my neck with his sharp elongated fangs.

I convulsed with pleasure and melted into the mattress.

Chapter 8:

Spencer

I must have blacked out.

There was something against my chest. Something distracting me from the best dream of my life.
 

Me and Delilah having sex, but she had been a SpellBinder.

No, wait, that couldn’t be right. It was taboo for SpellBinders and NightDwellers to associate, much less have sex.

Mind-blowing sex, that left me breathlessly latching onto her neck with my fangs and drinking from her as a frigid spear pierced my heart.

It felt so real. I could still taste her as my mind fading back into consciousness. I could smell her.

The sweet muskiness of her delicious core and the coppery palette of her blood.

A hand rubbed up my bare arm, leaving a trail of unnaturally, tingly warmth.

Spellbinder.
My mind screamed as my eyes popped opened to see a mass of dark hair, as a soft naked leg rubbed gently against my own.

I flinched, feeling a hand on my erection.
 

“You’re awake,” a soft voice purred.

The mass on my chest shifted, lifted and Delilah looked into my face with those cat-like eyes blazing bright and small elongated canines. Then she leaned forward and kissed my lips. The kiss was tentative and unsure.

She rubbed against my chest, her breasts warm against the cold center of my chest. The events of the night came back to me, slamming into my mind with intense detail.
 

Her catching me in the act, our argument, discovering she was a SpellBinder, her attempt at leaving…against the wall…on the bed.

I’d pushed her. Claimed her. Fucked her.

Like she was mine.

My cock jerked at the thought.
 

And then it hit me. My mind-blowing orgasm wasn't the only result of our union. The cold feeling in my chest was another.

I reached beneath her and rubbed the center of my chest. It was chilled. It tingled.

I flipped my hand and place it between her exposed breasts. The center of her chest tingled at my touch and mine pulsed as I touched her.
 

Permanent binding. Permanently tethered. Permanently stuck with.
My mind screamed

I snatched my hand back at the foreign sensation.

“You regret what happened?” She watched me, but her eyes didn’t hold that smoldering, untouchable surety they usually held. Her scent was bitter with apprehension.

I could see the vulnerability in her. Smell it.
 

She was genuinely concerned and I could see deeper than the “hottest model in Katharine” facade.

My throat was dry. I couldn’t answer her question and her eyes dulled with worry and she pulled away from me.

My free hand whipped around her waist and held her to me, before I could stop myself.
 

I didn’t want her to leave. I placed my hand tentatively to her chest again and felt mine pulse again. I shuddered and my cock hardened.

Permanent binding. Permanently connection. Permanent fucking erection.
I thought to myself, running my eyes over the beautiful and powerful SpellBinder on top of me.

I cleared my throat. “Did you really tell Samuel to pretend he was sick?” I asked. I tentatively spread my hand on her naked back as a way to offer comfort, hoping it would spur the truth from her.

Her eyes dropped from my gaze briefly. She pulled away from me, after some resistance on my part. She sat up on the bed, pulled her legs up to her chest and curled her arms around them, curling her delicate frame into a ball.

She looked so small. So vulnerable and the center of my chest ached with the need to touch her. The need to have her was ten times what I’d felt for her before.

Permanent binding. Permanent need to have her.

She put one cheek on her knees and looked down at me. “Yes, I did,” she said.

“Why?” I countered.

“I told you why,” she replied deflecting.

“I apologize,” I sat up and kissed her naked shoulder. I couldn’t resist. It was as if the binding had broken down the walls between us. I couldn't help but show that I wanted her. Had always wanted her. “It is true that a man can’t properly think when his dick is hard. So tell me again.”

Her lids lowered and she glance down my body at the object in question. Her eyes looking less dull.

“So you’ll remember it, if I told you now?” she said with a giggle.

“Yes.” I covered myself with a sheet. “It’s— well— Just speak slowly,” I stammered. I was going to say it was “morning wood,” but I couldn’t blame it on that. Not with her sitting beside me naked.

Not with this cold at the center of my chest that would leave me forever linked to her.

She laughed, then sighed heavily.

“I like you, Spencer,” she admitted. “I have for a while.” She ran a hand over her hair. “I just thought if I could get you alone, maybe you’d loosen up.” She shrugged. “I wanted you. More than I’ve ever wanted another man…being, I mean.”

“So—” I didn’t really know what I wanted to say, but I let the words tumble from my mouth as they wanted. “So, was last night what you wanted?” I rubbed a hand at the center of my chest, hoping the sex had been worth the permanent binding for her. For me.

She grinned, that mysterious, sexy, aloft look in her eyes again before her lids lowered.

“Was it ever,” she purred and I bit my bottom, remembering how rough I was with her. Wanting to do it again.

I could feel her pleasure. Feel that she meant the words she was speaking. There was so much emotion behind them and the center of my chest was attuned to it somehow.

Permanent binding. Permanently on the same wavelength.

My cock jumped as her eyes traced over me, and I had a vivid visual flash through my mind of what she was thinking.

There was a looked in those green eyes that I’d seen many times before, one I hadn’t recognized for what it was, because I was too busy keeping my NightDweller beast in check to notice it.

Hunger.

Delilah watched me with hunger in those green eyes.

By the time her eyes got back up to mine, I imagined she saw the same look in my eyes as my visual went purple.

“You know,” she began, uncurling herself. She slid from the bed and actually floated over to the desk and picked up my camera. She was back onto the sheets and handed me the camera before she spoke again. “Samuel is supposed to be
sick
—” she put emphasis on the word as she straddled my legs. “—until this evening.” She kissed my neck then my chest and began to slowly pull the sheet from my lap as she descended my body.

She paused long enough to make me wonder about her meaning.

“Yeah?” I framed it as a question.

She kissed my navel, then slowly licked the head of my shaft before raising her head.

“You still owe me some pictures,” she said raising a brow.
 

“Huh?” I asked dazed. The sight of her head between my legs, combined with the insight into her desire that was pulsing through my head because of our connection, was making it hard to think again.

She grabbed my cock and poise herself comfortably in front of it.

“Camera, Spencer,” she ordered before taking me into her mouth.

Permanent bidding. It was so worth it.

TJ Batts live in North Carolina with bossy Miniature Schnauzer and tons of stories in her head.

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