Read Online Demon's Delight by MaryJanice Davidson - Free Book Online Page B

cock.
    â€œGod, that feels good,” he groaned, fumbling for her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so it was a simple matter to unzip her bodice with her free hand, allowing him to fondle her breasts. Since he was focused on getting inside her rather than her taking him into her mouth, she squeezed him, stroked his balls.
    Still groaning, he jerked up the hem of her dress, exposing her slender thighs and pubic hair. He seemed excited about that, clumsily touching the thick thatch of hair. “You don’t shave down there like most whores,” he muttered, slipping a thick finger between her nether lips and probing inside her.
    She opened her legs farther, let him finger her a moment, then grabbed the lapels of his coat and jerked him against her, turning so that her back was against the gritty cinderblock wall. She hitched one leg around him, fitting herself against him and urging him to slam home.
    â€œThat’s it,” she crooned, meeting his thrusts as she again pressed her lips against his neck. “That’s it. Take what you want, what you’re paying for.”
    She opened her mouth, sank deep. Life gushed into her, a hot surge more potent than pure adrenaline. Gulping the intoxicating liquid, she became omnipotent, flashed to the stars and back in a wild, heady rush. At the same time, a part of her managed to remain grounded and keep the mind lock on her mark. In return for her personal nirvana, she hurled him over the edge.
    â€œOh God, oh God!” he screamed, in the throes of the most powerful orgasm of his insignificant life. He emptied himself inside her, in long, drawn-out waves of sensation. He’d never felt such pleasure. He was dying, dying…God, God!
    Then blackness closed in around him…
    Rachel stared down at the prone man, noting the even rise and fall of his chest. Since he was completely dressed, and it wasn’t that cold, he’d be fine until he came to in twenty minutes or so. He’d be weak and possibly have a headache, but he’d also have the memory of a hot sexual encounter that had left him completely satiated—even though it had all been in his mind. She smoothed her shawl and stepped out of the alley, another business transaction completed.
    Strolling away, she ran her tongue over her fangs to catch the remaining film of blood. They were already retracting, the earlier heated flush receding. Fading way too quickly, like her john’s simulated orgasm. Leaving her cold and bleak until the next fix.
    Â 
    The next john, obviously more affluent, was better dressed and better spoken, but he was a cold, unemotional man with gutter morals. He was able to pay a lot more for Rachel’s services than her last customer. “Don’t you have a place where we can go?” he asked, as she grabbed his expensive coat’s lapels and maneuvered him behind a tattoo parlor.
    She refused to do her transactions in the confines of a car. She never allowed johns to take her to a hotel, either—although there were numerous dives and flophouses in the general vicinity—not even for exorbitant amounts of cash. She didn’t need that much money, nor did she have to worry about her personal safety—it was difficult to kill a being without a soul. But she needed the cover of night, and she needed the blood, and her profession was perfect for those needs.
    â€œI want to go somewhere where there’s a bed or a hot tub,” he said imperviously, obviously used to his orders being obeyed. “Or I want my money back.”
    â€œNo,” she whispered, flowing into his mind. “That’s not what you really want, is it? I know what you want, and I can give it to you.”
    She slid down him, going to her knees where he wanted her, subservient and willing to do what his wife wouldn’t. Her fingers rubbed his thighs, circling upward, almost—but not quite—touching his straining erection.
    He moaned, thrust