Demonic Temptation (3 page)

Without argument, Adela dropped her skirt. Nevin eased her hands from her body and with her heart in her throat, she fought to hold Marcus’ darkened gaze. His jaw had tightened, the stark light picking out the jump of a muscle in his jaw.

“We promised you perfection…”

Marcus tilted his head. “I know.” He looked to Swain, his gaze narrowing on the hand that stroked the officer’s erect dick. “That’s not having her.”

Adela pressed her lips together. “I
am
here.”

Nevin spluttered a laugh and he dropped a kiss onto her bare shoulder. The contact was a sweet sting. His hand curved around her hip, his fingers splayed. “You are so sweet. And to wear flesh to touch you,” his teeth and tongue traced her ear, “taste you. Bliss.”

He stopped and Swain moved, his heavy boots silent against the thick flooring. Adela’s chest lifted, her breath sudden and tight as he dropped to his knees before her. His fingers linked through Nevin’s and he nuzzled his face against her belly. The rasp of his bristles forced a shiver under her skin, the heat of his breath and the wet line of his tongue promising to continue the pleasure Idaeus had given her only moments before.

Swain’s mouth moved over her mons, the hum from his reconstructed larynx vibrating deliciously through her flesh. Her body tensed, waiting, aching for more than the simple burn of his lips. For his tongue to find her and satisfy the need twisting low in her belly.

“Marcus chose him for this…skill,” Nevin murmured. “You will be the last to benefit. Our energy will reconstruct his broken voice.” Nevin unlaced his hand from Swain’s and brushed against her ass. No. He was working his fly. And she sucked in a breath as the heat of his hard dick pressed against her backside. How was this happening to her? It was insanity. His mouth moved to her ear, his lips burning. “As he chose Swain, he also chose Nevin.”

“Suck his fingers, Adela.” Marcus’ hard command jolted her attention to him. Nevin’s voice, even with the power of Idaeus threading through it, was nothing compared to his. Red touched Marcus’ cheeks and his shoulders had tensed. “Now.”

She opened her mouth and curled her tongue around the two fingers Nevin pushed past her lips. Her heart drummed. The thought of his taking her ass twisted hot through her flesh and a sharp smile touched Marcus’ lips.

“Get them wet.” His voice was dark sin and mixed with the continuing hum of Swain against her mons. “Nevin has need of them.”

Adela trembled, only the officers’ biting fingers denying her the relief of pushing her sex—hard—against Swain’s skilled mouth. Instead, she sucked on Nevin’s thrusting fingers, wanting more. Needing them. Needing
Marcus
.

Nevin pulled his fingers from her mouth with an unexpected pop and his soft laughter stirred her skin. “Eager, Adela?”

“Yes.” She didn’t want to deny it, not with Marcus watching her with his quickened breath and desire dilating his eyes.
He
wanted her like this. “Fuck me.”

Nevin teased his wet fingers down the cleft of her ass and Adela sucked in a quick breath. His teeth teased her earlobe, the flash of pain as he bit her deflecting the first push of his fingers into her tight hole.

“We’ve corrupted you, Adela.”

Nevin’s words burned and a cry broke from her as Swain finally,
finally
pressed the hot tip of his tongue to her clit. Heat spiraled and the sweet wave of bliss shocked her flesh. But her eyes never left Marcus.

He stood, tensed, hands clenched and flexing at his sides. His mouth had parted and a red flush stained his cheeks. He made no move toward her. None. Yet, his body almost swayed. The ache to touch him, to yank him free of his immaculate suit and make him as wild, as corrupted as she, dried her mouth.

“She wants you, Marcus.”

Nevin eased his fingers deeper, pushing, curling, twisting and chasing fire along her spine. She arched against his touch, driving her pussy against Swain’s talented tongue. Fire rioted along her straining nerves. Marcus’ fierce eyes held her, his need, his want twisting with her own. She had to have his hands on her. Her dried mouth parted. Fuck. She was ready to beg.

Nevin’s laughter was soft and smug. “But you can’t have her yet. For now, she’s ours.”

“I know.” Marcus bit out the words.

Fuck. Denying him tore at her soul, the pleasure-pain stark and hot. “I am not—” Swain did something
spectacular
with his tongue as Nevin scissored his fingers and she gasped at the sudden bolt of raw joy rocketing her flesh. She fought to mutter the last word. “
Chattel.
”

Marcus moved to stand behind Swain, close, but still beyond the reach of her white-knuckled hands. “Idaeus must have you like this.” His gaze slid over her skin and it pricked at the path he took, as he focused on Swain who licked and sucked, his hands now tight on her open thighs. Marcus looked up and lifted an eyebrow. He wet his lips and her pulse ramped. Even his smallest reactions speared her. “And truly, can you deny you want to be fucked like this? And for
me
to see you taken?”

“I’m greedy.” She bit her lip—hard—to stop her half-cry as Nevin stretched her hole. And fuck, she ached for more. “I want all of you.”

Marcus’ eyelids flickered. “Do you?”

“Later.” And in a heartbeat, Nevin pulled his stretching fingers free of her flesh and with a growl, pushed the head of his dick into her ass.

Adela’s spine arched. Nevin gripped her hip, his other hand on his dick, his knuckles pressing into her ass as he stroked forward. The sharp pleasure was a wild rush. Swain, his fingers biting into her trembling thighs, thrust his tongue into her pussy, tightening the hot, coiling pleasure.

“More?”
Idaeus’ strange, echoing voice ripped through her thoughts.

“Yes. All of it.”

Nevin slammed into her ass as Swain—the fierce hum from his modified voice box thrumming through her flesh—fucked her with his tongue. Adela grabbed Nevin’s arms. Her fingers clawed into the thick serge of his uniform as they took her, the power of it, the need she had to lose herself in their sharp strength whipped fire through her veins. They—Idaeus—were changing her. They were making her more. Making her ready for them.

She fought to focus on Marcus. Making her ready for
him
.

That final thought lashed a wild wave of golden heat up through her flesh, her body straining against the hard grip of both men. Nevin followed her, the last stroke of his dick forcing a cry and the burn of her release swept fierce and hot over her skin.

The wildness in her flesh faded and she almost sagged against them. Nevin teased his lips to her bare shoulder, the act reminding her that his hard body still pressed up against hers, his hands on her hips. His tongue drew a slow line and she shivered, the aftershocks of her release a small bliss through her flesh.

Swain eased away and half crawled to one of the chairs. He closed his eyes and she could almost feel Idaeus pulling away from his bones. The man slumped, unconscious.

“Adela.” Marcus put his hand to her cheek, his thumb wiping away wetness. Had she been crying? His deep voice caressed her, wrapped around her and eased the wild thrum of her heart. “You were beautiful.”

His finger drew slow circles against the hollow of her pelvis, before edging to her hip and pushing Nevin’s large hand away.

“She’s yours now,” Nevin murmured, the thrum of Idaeus thick in his voice.

Was it
over
? She thought they’d promised her always? “Idaeus?” But Nevin stepped back, almost staggered before he dropped down beside Swain in one of the client chairs.

“I don’t understand.”

Marcus tilted her chin up. His gaze pinned her. Heat and want burned there, and something else. Not soft…but sure. He’d hardly touched her and yet she was totally his. And would be for a long time.

Her thoughts and emotions whirled, caught up in the sudden strange turn her life had taken. But her mind emptied as his mouth brushed hers.

Chapter Three

He tasted sweet and warm, his lips firm and a fresh flare of desire ignited low in her belly. A disbelieving smile broke against his mouth. This was
not
her. But now, apparently, it was. “What have you done to me?”

“Made you aware.” He ran light fingers down her arm, the touch delicate—so different from the wildness of moments before—but still it pulled a groan from her.

“You chose me.”

“Idaeus found me a long time ago.” He pressed a kiss to her jaw, his breath flowing across her skin and pushing a delicious shiver that curved her into his touch. “You took a little longer.”

Her eyes closed as she stepped closer, the press of his suit slick and cool against her sticky skin. “And you’re…comfortable doing this with a complete stranger.”

“Are you? A stranger.”

He didn’t remember that almost one time…did he? “You’re…you.” Heat rose in her face. He was Marcus Yeats, a man who could have anything and anyone. And yet he was settling for her—

“Not settling.”

She blinked, drawing back from him to hold his pale gaze. “How…?”

Marcus wet his lips. “I have a skill Idaeus enhances.” His finger brushed her temple. “It’s strong with you. It always has been.”

Heat bloomed in her chest, a rush of surprise, almost of shock. “You can read my mind?”

“From time to time.” His sudden and wicked smile made her heart beat hard. “And yes, your more salacious thoughts stand out.”

Adela swore and fought the quick, hot wave of embarrassment. Idaeus deep in her mind was one thing. But Marcus…

His soft laughter forced her to open her eyes. “You were just fucked in front of me by two men controlled by an alien entity.” His lips quirked upward. “My going down on you in a crowded lift? Inconsequential.”

Adela laughed. “You make a valid point.”

He teased his fingers down her breastbone. “Now, I have waited a long time. Let me act out some of my more lurid thoughts.”

“I’m all yours.”

The desire in his eyes caught her breath. “Yes. You are.”

He dipped his head to kiss her, something slow and deep and sure. Adela’s fingers gripped the front of his jacket as she pushed her body up against his. Her eyes closed and the memory from five years before surrounded and held her. A darkened auditorium after his guest lecture, the same feel of expensive cloth under her eager fingers and his taste. Hot and sweet and utterly wanted.

He lifted her and she groaned, his fingers finding her pussy even as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She broke her mouth from his, sharing his breath. “Can’t I get you naked?”

“My fantasy? We’re both still dressed.” He tugged her bottom lip with his teeth, his grin sharp. “But I will suffer your skin.”

“Why dressed?”

“It was just in your thoughts…”

Adela blinked. “You remember?”

“We were interrupted.” A hint of her own frustration burned in his voice. The memory of lights flashing on across the curve of the dark auditorium and their scramble to straighten their clothes and rub and brush away any evidence of an unexpected need to fuck burned in her mind. No doubt Marcus could sense it. Shared it. “I left my contact details for a reason, Adela.”

She’d found them a week later—but by that time she was already running, holed up on a scow and heading for the dark edge of civilization. He was Marcus Yeats. A powerful and dangerous man to cross. Their one indiscretion would destroy her life, her career. He would make certain of it.

She pressed her lips together and it was hard to hold his pale gaze. Her stomach hollowed. But she’d got it wrong. His contacting her hadn’t been solely for him. “For Idaeus.” His silence drove the fist more firmly into her gut. He’d been hunting perfect flesh. Not wild human desire.

“Adela, look at me.” The words were soft, deep and her skin pricked, aroused as she always was by his voice. She willed herself to meet his gaze and found unexpected warmth. “He found me after. Not before.”

She was kissing him, hard and fast. Her fingers dug into his hair, tunneling, fisting, driving his mouth against hers. The insanity that had gripped her five years before—that she’d run from for too long—had been mutual.

Her spine hit the wall and she moaned. Lights sparked under her eyelids as he ran a hot hand along her thigh. He nuzzled her neck. “I wanted your skirt.” His breath burned against her skin. “Rucked up to your hips. Just like before.” He hissed as her fingers undid his fly. “Me in your mind. And you like now, the need for me to fuck you simply…pulsing.”

Was that why he’d called her back from the stream of post-grads that long-ago afternoon? He’d sensed that she was wet from just his voice, from the way he stood before the vast light-screen—stern, powerful, completely in control—with harsh light carving his beautiful face.

“You forced me to cut my lecture short.” He pressed his mouth to her ear, the heat of his breath and the clever flick of his tongue almost grinding her against him. She felt his hard smile. “How was I supposed to offer my experience of interplanetary law when your thoughts, your need, the fantasy you offered was so
sweet
.” The final word was cut from sin, hot and dark and aching with promise. “How did you want me, Ms. Tilman?”

“I wanted you to take me. Right there.”

Her fingers closed around the hard length of his dick and his dilated eyes snapped to hers. “Details.” His chest lifted as she stroked him, her thumb teasing pre-cum over the smooth head. “
Please.
”

“You’re in my mind.”

“I want to hear you say it.” His gaze dropped, hers following to watch her slim fingers caress him, drawing him over her own damp skin, slicking him with her own wetness. “Want to see its effect on you.”

Adela drew in a slow breath, the movement pushing her against him and sparking through her flesh. “You…you just stop midsentence and stare at me.”

“Where are you?”

“I arrived late.” That part was real. She had, picking through the shadows to the only seats available in the auditorium. Namely the seats directly opposite Marcus. She’d slunk into her seat and as his hard eyes had found her, she knew exactly why they’d remained empty. “Terror of you kept the front row empty.”