by Cynthia Sax
Dancing For Her Demon
Cynthia Sax
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Cynthia Sax
BIN: 05991-01922
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Changeling Press LLC
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Editor: Maryam Salim
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Adult Sexual Content
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Dancing For Her Demon
Cynthia Sax
Larissa bares her heart, her soul, and everything else to a rage demon.
Although Larissa is a virgin, she knows exactly who she wants -- she wants Julian. Her father’s right-hand demon, however, still views her as a child. Determined to provoke the rage demon’s darker passions, Larissa struts on stage at a local strip club and shows him how grown up she really is.
Julian has spent years proving he is the right mate for Larissa. He has one task left. He must go to a strip club and subdue a rival demon. Then Larissa takes the stage, the audience goes wild, and all of Julian’s careful planning is blasted to bits by the heat of desire.
Chapter One
She’s finally mine. Julian took the steps two at a time, excitement shimmering through his big form. He clasped the duffel bag containing the proof of his worth, his knuckles whitening around the leather handle.
“Welcome back, Mr. Julian.” The Magnus Mansion’s gargoyle butler held the huge front door open, his expression stony. “The master is in his study.”
“Thank you, Diorite.” Julian stalked through the house, his dress shoes soundless on the tiled floor.
Larissa fell into place behind him, her lithe form concealed by the shadows, fabric rasping against her soft skin. Julian slowed, achingly attuned to her movements, every inch of him aware of her. They’d always been connected. Larissa the only female who reached his soul, transferred the constant rage inside him into pure passion.
“I know you’re tracking me, angel.” He breathed deeply, the scent of her, a combination of caramel and musk, filling his nostrils. His body hardened, his cock pressing against the zipper of his black pants.
“How are the strip clubs in New York?” Her slender fingers slid along his palm and her long, straight brown hair brushed against his arm, a white ribbon weaved through the strands. She pointed her toes gracefully as she moved, showing off her shapely calves and trim ankles, her walk refined from years of ballet practice.
“They are profitable.” Julian closed his calloused fingers around her hand, holding her to him. “Your father made a good investment there.”
“I’m glad. I recommended those purchases.” Larissa tilted her head, gazing up at him with her big brown eyes, and Julian yearned to melt into her, to forget the fighting and the demon turf wars and lose himself in her embrace. Soon. “Dad does know how to run strip clubs, but then he is a lust demon.” Her plush lips quirked into an endearingly lopsided smile. “Tempest thinks I can dance as well as any of Fallen’s strippers.”
Julian groaned softly, the erotic images of Larissa dancing, when she thought he hadn’t been watching, burned in his memory for all time. “And how does Tempest know how well the strippers at Fallen dance?” Valens guarded Larissa’s hell-raising half-sister as zealously as Julian guarded his more serene Larissa.
Larissa’s bottom lip curled into a sexy pout. “We’re no longer children, Julian, even though you treat us like we are.” She stuck out her chest, her breasts high and firm and succulent.
Julian’s mouth watered as he hungered for a taste. Touching Larissa was forbidden until he proved his worth to her powerful father. The lust demon watched his daughters closely, recognizing the appeal of their innocence.
“We’re women of the world,” Larissa declared, tossing her head back, her hair rippling like silk behind her. “Other males recognize that.”
“If other males do more than recognize that, those other males will die.” Julian allowed his eyes to glow red, punctuating his point. Too soon, they reached the study’s closed doors. “Wait here, angel.” He gently squeezed her hand. “I have business with your father.” He reluctantly released her.
“I’ll wait, but not forever, Julian.” She jutted her pointed chin, stubbornness written all over her beautiful face.
In mere minutes, he’d be able to kiss those downturned lips, wrap those long dancer legs around his waist, and find paradise in her embrace. Julian pushed through the doors. Magnus sat behind his huge mahogany desk, a pile of paperwork in front of him, a pen in his beefy hands. He didn’t look up, but Julian knew the formidable lust demon was aware of his presence.
“Your rival is dead.” Julian stalked toward the desk, unzipped the duffel bag, and plunked the severed head onto the desk -- the dead demon’s mouth was open, his eyes wide with surprise. “I’ve completed the last task, and I’ve waited long enough. Larissa is mine.”
Magnus continued to sign contracts, scratching his fountain pen over the crisp white paper. “Valens has waited longer.”
“Valens isn’t a rage demon.” Julian curled his fingers into fists, his demon provoked by the older male’s lack of appreciation. “Larissa is mine, Magnus.”
“Larissa has always been yours, Julian.” Larissa’s father peered up at him, his immortal face unlined by age. “But can you protect her? That is my worry.”
“Haven’t I already proven that I can?” Julian laid his knuckles on the desk and leaned forward, cracking the joints, the dead demon’s head situated between his arms.
“Trajan has been spending his evenings at Fallen.” Magnus’s lips flattened. “I want the rage demon removed, permanently and discreetly.”
“Valens is discreet.” Julian pushed away from the desk and paced, aggravated by the additional stipulation, seeing no end to Magnus’s requests. “Assign the task to him.”
“Valens’s mate isn’t coordinating personal finance lessons for the strippers,” Magnus shared softly.
Larissa. Julian froze, his shoes squeaking on the antique hardwood floor. “You vowed to safeguard her in my absence.”
“And I have.” Magnus’s eyes gleamed purple, displaying his displeasure with Julian’s accusation. “He hasn’t touched her… yet.”
Julian twisted his lips, unwilling to risk Larissa’s safety yet realizing he’d been outmaneuvered. Magnus relished the thought of his enemy being killed by one of his own kind, a rage demon fighting a rage demon.
Anger built within Julian, his skin shimmering red, hi
s demon yanking at his control, threatening to force his shift. “There will be no more games, Magnus. I’ll complete this last task tonight, and then you will grant me permission to claim Larissa.”
Julian pivoted on his heels and stalked out of the room, leaving Magnus and the demon’s severed head behind him. He slammed the door between them.
Larissa jerked, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on him. “Is everything --”
“No,” Julian ground out, his world colored red with rage. He glared at her, wanting to kiss her, touch her, fuck her until she cried his name, her face flushing with passion.
“Oh.” Larissa’s nipples tightened against her white satin camisole, and the musk of her wet pussy scented the air, her physical response to his seething arousal escalating Julian’s need.
“Are you staying for dinner?” She touched his arm, and a jolt of awareness shot through his body, surging straight down to the tip of his cock.
“I have to work,” Julian rumbled, his voice demonically deep.
“You’re going to the strip club.” Her eyes flashed, her hurt decimating his anger. “We overheard Valens and Bono say they were going there tonight, but I thought…” Her bottom lip trembled. “I was wrong. Go. Work. I don’t care.” She crossed her arms in front of her and turned away from him, her shoulders thrust back, her spine straight.
“I will be working.” Julian wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his pant-covered cock against her sweetly rounded ass, and her breath hitched, her slight sound of surrender stimulating. “But not all night.” He brushed his cheek over hers. “Will you wait for me, angel?”
“Maybe.” She didn’t soften against him, his stubborn woman.
“No maybes.” Julian chuckled, hugging Larissa hard, savoring the feel of her curves against his muscle. “You’ll wait for me.” He released her. “I’ll be back for you.” He strode away, determined to finish his latest assignment quickly.
* * *
“That she can fit all of it into her mouth never ceases to amaze me.” Larissa stared at the succubus at the front of the room. Saffron, the blonde-haired manager of Fallen, knelt before a lust demon, her red lips wrapped around the base of her partner’s humongous shaft, her fingertips digging into his purple ass cheeks.
“I’ve heard Valens is even bigger,” Tempest, her half-sister, declared proudly. “That’s why I asked her to repeat this lesson. Boy, will he have the shock of his eternal life when I take all of him.” She grinned, waving a giant glass dildo. “He might even smile.”
“I’m wearing the butt plug we were given last week.” Cyra, her other half-sister, wiggled in her chair, her generous curves jiggling. “I caught Bono staring at my ass again yesterday with that hungry look in his eyes. I’m sure he must be an ass man.”
“At least he sees you as a woman.” Larissa sighed as she stroked her brand new dildo, enjoying the smooth surface. “This is the closest I’ll ever get to a cock.”
Saffron released the demon’s cock and stood, smacking her lips as though savoring his taste. “Ladies, we gave you our full attention during your rather dry discussion on Treasury bills. We expect the same respect from you.” She gave them a stern look, and Larissa’s cheeks heated.
“Yes, Saffron,” the half-sisters chimed in unison. They looked at each other and laughed, destroying their attempt at gravity.
Saffron rolled her brilliant blue eyes. “Why do I bother?” She stroked the demon’s large cock, working him with confidence and skill.
“Because you love us?” Cyra asked, the peacekeeper of the group. “As we love you.”
“I’m a succubus. I love everyone.” The corners of Saffron’s mouth quirked upward. “If you had been paying attention, you would have seen how I tilted my head back and relaxed my throat.” She dropped her hands from the demon’s shaft, and she petted under her chin, her touching sensuous, seductive. “That allows me to take more of him.”
The demon wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, a bead of precum on his tip. He gazed mournfully at Saffron as she circled the table, his expression pained.
“Now you try,” the succubus instructed, ignoring her demonstration partner.
As her half-sisters eagerly slid dildos into their mouths, Larissa stared unseeingly at the smooth glass, recalling that day’s encounter with Julian, unable to find enthusiasm for practicing an act she might never undertake. She’d thought for certain he’d return from New York and claim her, yet he hadn’t. He might never claim her.
“I’ll be waiting for Julian forever,” she grumbled, her mood dark and defeated. “It’s killing me.” Her shoulders slumped, years of rigid dance training overcome by one uncooperative male demon.
“You give your male too much power, Larissa,” Saffron purred. “Look at Nac.” She waved her hand toward the sexually frustrated demon. “He waits for me. I don’t wait for him. I control when and where we fuck.”
Larissa shook her head, dismissing Saffron’s advice. It only applied to females that males desired. “Julian sees me as a child and nothing more.”
“Show him you’re not a child.” The succubus flicked the top button off Larissa’s blouse. “Show him you’re more.” The plastic bounced across the wooden table. “More than he can handle.”
“Am I more than he can handle?” Larissa glanced pointedly down at her flat chest. “He has very large hands.”
Saffron laughed. “Your Julian’s very large hands won’t be on your breasts, not with your… ummm… other assets.” She smiled wickedly, and Larissa raised her eyebrows, confused about what other assets Saffron was referring to.
“You have legs any female would kill for,” the succubus clarified. “Legs perfect for wrapping around a demon’s waist.” Saffron’s demon groaned, reinforcing her words, his cock bobbing enthusiastically. “Remind him you have those legs, and he’ll be putty in your hands.”
Julian did act distracted when she wore shorter skirts. Larissa gazed up at Saffron, the older woman’s confidence renewing her hope. If anyone knew men, it was the sexually skilled succubus.
She could wear an obscenely short skirt the next time she saw him, if she saw him. “I have no opportunity to remind him. Julian spends all of his time at my father’s strip clubs, working. Even tonight, he’ll be here, working.”
“Then tonight, you’ll give him a show he’ll never forget.” Saffron pulled Larissa’s hair back from her face. “We’ll open a spot for you.” She snapped her long, blood-red nails at one of the other strippers, getting her attention. “Bambi, grab the naughty angel outfit for us.” Bambi rushed out of the room, her big breasts bouncing.
“The demons will sense your innocence, and they’ll go mad with lust.” The succubus smiled. “Competition is the best aphrodisiac.”
I’m a great dancer. And tonight, I’ll be dancing for Julian. Larissa returned Saffron’s smile. “I know the naughty angel routine.” Bambi had taught her the moves, and she’d practiced it in front of her mirror at home. “I can do this.”
Chapter Two
I can’t do this. Larissa peeked between the red curtains. Bambi spun around the pole, her big breasts bouncing unfettered, her G-string sparkling between her ass cheeks, the lights shining on her blonde hair. The audience sat transfixed, their mouths partially opened, their cocks hard.
Almost all of the audience.
Julian filled a seat completely, his big arms folded, his lips pressed into a thin, white line and his red-eyed gaze fixed on Trajan, one of her father’s many enemies. Julian appeared as disgusted as Larissa was with the grotesque rage demon. The rival male grabbed the strippers with his beefy hands, making them squeak with pain.
Valens and Bono flanked her mate, equally oblivious to the nearly naked entertainment. The three demons sat in silence, ignoring the hopeful glances and flashes of skin from the working girls.
If bouncing Bambi can’t get his attention, I’m doomed. Larissa patted her small breasts. Gold ribbons crisscrossed the white chiffon blouse, accen
tuating her curves, the outfit making the best of what she had.
Bambi bounded through the curtain, dollar bills tucked into her G-string. “You’ll do fine.” She gave Larissa a quick hug, her golden skin covered with a sheen of perspiration. “Concentrate on Julian. You’re dancing for him, and no one else.”
“No one else.” Larissa breathed deeply, struggling to calm herself.
“And now for a special treat, we have a local girl,” Saffron announced. “This is her first time on stage so please give her a warm Fallen welcome.” The crowd clapped halfheartedly. Julian’s gaze didn’t move from the rage demon.
Pop music filled the air, the beat pounding. Only for Julian. Larissa strutted onto the stage, swinging her hips and flipping the hem of her short ruffled skirt, her feather-covered wings fluttering behind her. Humans, demons, vampires, and other paranormals straightened in their chairs.
Larissa stumbled, the males’ stares and potency of their collective arousal unnerving. They looked her over as though she was already naked, their hungry gazes pausing on her breasts and legs.
“I’m dancing for Julian,” she whispered, focusing on her demon. He turned his head with a snap, as though he’d heard her, and their gazes connected, recognition and lust in his red demon eyes. His nostrils flared, smoke wafting around his head, his desire unmistakable.
He wants me. Larissa strode in front of him, teasingly flicking her skirt as she passed, giving him a glimpse of her white thong panties and long pale legs. Julian growled, his low rumble heard over the music, and the males seated close to the stage hastily moved farther back.
Larissa pivoted, swiveling her hips, running her hands over her white blouse and her ruffled skirt, allowing him to see her entire body from every angle. She caught his gaze, intoxicated by his arousal, and she shimmied, shaking her breasts.