Read Online In the Company of Witches by Joey W. Hill - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joey W. Hill
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long-suppressed desires might give him a power over her she could never reclaim.
“Let me go,” she rasped.
“No. You want me, you take me on my terms, Raina. Which means you serve my pleasure. And I want you screaming out yours until it rocks this house on its foundation.”
He hadn’t lowered the neckline of the dress, but he put his mouth over the stiff nipple, breathed on it. As he put his tongue against it, a slow manipulation with the velvet in between, she writhed and writhed. Electricity crackled in the air, lightning through the mist. It was a pyrotechnic show that humans couldn’t see. Every sex demon produced a different aura, a different tapestry. An Aurora Borealis to consummate the pleasure, a combination of her magic and the life energy of her victim. She’d often wondered if the human got to glimpse it right before his death. She hoped so, because it was a thing of terrible beauty, one last gift for their unwilling sacrifice.
Then she was swept up in it herself. “Mikhael.” She’d thrown away a lifetime of restraint on his word alone. He’d been so compelling, and now she was at the point of no return.
“I’ve got you, baby. You’re not going to hurt anyone. I promise. Let go. Let me see you scream.”
She shredded her linens, her pillow, as he bit down on her nipple, pulling hard on the piercing. Pain speared her amid the pleasure. Then he put his mouth over all of it, soothing and suckling her, the friction of the cloth making her more crazed. He wasn’t even inside her, wasn’t touching her below the waist at all.
She hadn’t been taken over like this in a very, very…well, never. Not like this. She knew all sorts of sexual positions, Tantric methods, fancy maneuvers that would bug out the eyes of the most experienced. But all Mikhael had done was caress her body, lavish her breasts with attention—he was obviously a breast man—and taken control. Simple, uncomplicated gestures, delivered with devastating intent.
When he moved to the other nipple, it was like the sensation magnified another hundred times. She bit back the desire to beg, to plead. By the time he flipped her over onto her stomach, she’d lost that fight entirely.
Putting a hand on her neck, he held her down with that ruthless strength. “Lift your hips up toward me. Show me how much you want me.”
Her hips were already doing that, whether she told them to do so or not. He pushed her skirt up.
“No panties. Such a bad, good girl.” He cupped her between her legs. A moment later, she screamed as his mouth teased between her legs, his tongue sliding in to explore, to lick, to collect the honey he found there. When he nuzzled her clit, she struggled, cried out, but he was taking his time as she became an incendiary device.
“Let it go, Raina. Pit your energy against mine. Now .” His tongue thrust in, hard, lapping, swirling, giving her no chance to breathe, to do anything but obey.
She cracked open like an egg, power spilling out in a wash of blinding colors…silver gray, red, flickers of orange-blue flame taking over as it built, then an explosion that surged over them both. Letting her go, he yanked her up to her knees, let her turn. In an instant she was on him, shoving him to his back. As she shredded the jeans, tore them away, she saw blood where her nails gouged him. His hard, beautiful cock rose high and thick over his belly before she covered it with her body. He had her hips, her waist, and though she snarled and fought him, he made her take him slowly. His hand tangled in her hair so he controlled the pace, pushed himself into her. He had a thick organ, and if she’d slammed down on him the way she’d desired, she would have torn herself.
She didn’t care, because pain and pleasure were one at this point, but he took that pleasure up beyond what she thought possible as he made her feel every slow, gradual inch, his face savage in his concentration.
When he was thrust in deep, all the way to
“Let me go,” she rasped.
“No. You want me, you take me on my terms, Raina. Which means you serve my pleasure. And I want you screaming out yours until it rocks this house on its foundation.”
He hadn’t lowered the neckline of the dress, but he put his mouth over the stiff nipple, breathed on it. As he put his tongue against it, a slow manipulation with the velvet in between, she writhed and writhed. Electricity crackled in the air, lightning through the mist. It was a pyrotechnic show that humans couldn’t see. Every sex demon produced a different aura, a different tapestry. An Aurora Borealis to consummate the pleasure, a combination of her magic and the life energy of her victim. She’d often wondered if the human got to glimpse it right before his death. She hoped so, because it was a thing of terrible beauty, one last gift for their unwilling sacrifice.
Then she was swept up in it herself. “Mikhael.” She’d thrown away a lifetime of restraint on his word alone. He’d been so compelling, and now she was at the point of no return.
“I’ve got you, baby. You’re not going to hurt anyone. I promise. Let go. Let me see you scream.”
She shredded her linens, her pillow, as he bit down on her nipple, pulling hard on the piercing. Pain speared her amid the pleasure. Then he put his mouth over all of it, soothing and suckling her, the friction of the cloth making her more crazed. He wasn’t even inside her, wasn’t touching her below the waist at all.
She hadn’t been taken over like this in a very, very…well, never. Not like this. She knew all sorts of sexual positions, Tantric methods, fancy maneuvers that would bug out the eyes of the most experienced. But all Mikhael had done was caress her body, lavish her breasts with attention—he was obviously a breast man—and taken control. Simple, uncomplicated gestures, delivered with devastating intent.
When he moved to the other nipple, it was like the sensation magnified another hundred times. She bit back the desire to beg, to plead. By the time he flipped her over onto her stomach, she’d lost that fight entirely.
Putting a hand on her neck, he held her down with that ruthless strength. “Lift your hips up toward me. Show me how much you want me.”
Her hips were already doing that, whether she told them to do so or not. He pushed her skirt up.
“No panties. Such a bad, good girl.” He cupped her between her legs. A moment later, she screamed as his mouth teased between her legs, his tongue sliding in to explore, to lick, to collect the honey he found there. When he nuzzled her clit, she struggled, cried out, but he was taking his time as she became an incendiary device.
“Let it go, Raina. Pit your energy against mine. Now .” His tongue thrust in, hard, lapping, swirling, giving her no chance to breathe, to do anything but obey.
She cracked open like an egg, power spilling out in a wash of blinding colors…silver gray, red, flickers of orange-blue flame taking over as it built, then an explosion that surged over them both. Letting her go, he yanked her up to her knees, let her turn. In an instant she was on him, shoving him to his back. As she shredded the jeans, tore them away, she saw blood where her nails gouged him. His hard, beautiful cock rose high and thick over his belly before she covered it with her body. He had her hips, her waist, and though she snarled and fought him, he made her take him slowly. His hand tangled in her hair so he controlled the pace, pushed himself into her. He had a thick organ, and if she’d slammed down on him the way she’d desired, she would have torn herself.
She didn’t care, because pain and pleasure were one at this point, but he took that pleasure up beyond what she thought possible as he made her feel every slow, gradual inch, his face savage in his concentration.
When he was thrust in deep, all the way to
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