Demon Mine

by Marina Simcoe

  One of his hands moved to the back of my neck, squeezing it gently as he lowered me to the velvet-covered rock underneath. “I love your neck,” he whispered against my throat. His hot breath hit the sensitive skin there, causing sensations that drove me crazy with lust.

  His large body covered mine and our hips pressed firmly together. My arms still remained flat against the velvet-covered rock. I held back, afraid to touch him, afraid that if I did, the dream would end and he would disappear, leaving me alone.

  He propped himself on his elbow and moved the other hand down my shoulder, taking the strap of the dress along, moving it down my arm and exposing my breast.

  “Yes!” I heard him hiss before his tongue circled my hardened nipple, sending a sharp shot of pleasure straight to my core. His hand cupped my breast, and I realized that he still had his gloves on.

  “Everything, Sytrius…” I whispered, my breathing hot and heavy. “I want everything off you. The gloves too… Especially the gloves.”

  Propped on his elbow, he rose above me and found my eyes. Slowly, he removed the hand from my breast, lifted it to his mouth and closed his teeth over one finger of the glove. Without taking his eyes off mine, he pulled the glove off his hand with his teeth – finger by finger – and then covered my breast with his bare warm palm right after.

  I squirmed from the sweet sensation of his skin on mine, struggling to keep my eyes on his, but still whispered insistently, “The other one…”

  He obeyed once again, removed his bare hand from my breast to prop himself up, and then pulled the second glove off with his teeth too. I felt the smooth skin of his hand as it slid along my neck, pushing my jaw up and tilting my head back to expose all of my neck to him.

  “Beautiful,” I heard him whisper. “So beautiful.”

  The hand moved down from my neck to between my breasts, catching the edge of the neckline of the dress with one finger. He kept moving his hand down, pulling at the neckline until the delicate material ripped under his finger, and he tore it all the way down to my waist.

  I gasped and pushed my hips into his, feeling the hard ridge of his erection separated from me only by the sheer fabric of my skirt.

  “Touch me, Alyssa,” I heard him whisper in my ear. “Please, touch me.” His words urged me, anxiously. “I want to feel your hands on me, I want to know what it’s like. I want to remember…”

  “It’s just a dream, Sytrius,” I reminded him as well as myself but lifted my arms and pressed my hands to his back, pushing him down, closer to me. He groaned and rocked his hips into mine in response.

  “Beautiful dream.” I was no longer sure whose words those were, his or mine. My hands were skimming the hard muscles along his back, my knees raised on both sides of his hips, cradling him between my thighs. His fingers rolled one of my nipples with the other being pulled between his lips, his teeth scraping it...

  Pressure swelled painfully between my legs, turning pleasure into sweet unbearable torture.

  “Please, Sytrius… I can’t… I need…” I wriggled under him, desperate for something I couldn’t find a word for at that moment.

  “I know,” he whispered in response, and his hand further ripped the fabric of the dress on its way down between us. I felt two of his ungloved fingers glide down my stomach before they slid inside of me.

  Yes! I bucked my hips forward, pushing his fingers further inside me as he pumped them in and out of me, making ripples of pleasure run all over my body.

  His other hand went back to my nape, and he rubbed his cheek against my temple. “I know what you need, angel. Stay with me…”

  His hand moved faster, building the pressure in me, pushing me higher and higher… I clung to his back, my fingernails dug into his skin, my face pressed into his shoulder with my mouth open in a silent scream when I finally reached that sweet place when no one else exists and nothing else matters!

  Sometime around that moment, my open mouth must have landed on top of his shoulder. Without me realizing it at first, my teeth sank into the hard muscle in a futile attempt to stop the loud screams being ripped out of me by the waves of the powerful orgasm shuddering my whole body.

  He didn’t even seem to notice the pain of my teeth in his shoulder. He just held me close, letting me ride out the receding tide of pleasure. He stroked my hair gently, and in a soft caressing whisper, he called me his mistress, his queen, his angel. He called me his.

  I just wished we could stay like this forever, in this dream, where I could be his, and he could be mine, and we could stay lost in each other, far away from the rest of the world…

  Chapter Twenty Two. The Legend.

  I knew I was awake because the feeling I had was a strong, almost panicky sense of embarrassment. There was no place for any shame in the wonderful dream that I’d just had.

  Regret and embarrassment were the feelings reserved for mornings after.

  The dream was so realistic, and the memory of it so clear that, for a moment, I actually believed that it was real and then immediately felt embarrassed. What have I done? How did it happen? What would he think about me now? I promised to leave him alone; how horny does one have to be to lose all self-control? Really!

  The fact that his scent was still surrounding me, and his arms were still wrapped around me, made it even easier to believe that the dream was not a dream at all.

  After a moment, though, I realized that the ugly grey pajamas were still on me and that his chest was pressed to the side of my face, still covered by the material of his t-shirt.

  So there was no sexy demon striptease after all, and no white, gauzy dress got ripped off my body…

  It was all just a dream. What a relief!

  It was just a dream, after all! What a disappointment at the same time…

  He hadn’t stirred, and his breathing didn’t change, but I knew he wasn’t sleeping. Since nothing happened between us last night, I had no reason to feel awkward, but I did nevertheless. The image of his naked body awash in the warm glow of the torchlight was burned into my brain, and I found myself wondering what he looked like naked in real life. Was he anything like the sexy demon of my dream? Would I ever have a chance to compare?

  I knew just too well what having these kinds of thoughts in my head would do to my body. I also knew that Sytrius would see my horny feelings right away too, so I spoke to him, desperate for a distraction before my raging hormones took over completely. I asked a question on the topic we hadn’t had a chance to discuss with him yet – his origin.

  “Where are you from, Sytrius?”

  He inhaled and answered without a delay.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t remember that far.”

  “Do you remember your childhood? Growing up?”

  “I wasn’t born, Alyssa. I never was a child. I was created just the way I am now. The way I’ve always been.”

  “How? Who created you?”

  “I don’t remember,” he repeated and then added with a sigh. “I know I am a demon…”

  “Demons are believed to be hell’s army,” I said cautiously. “Are they? Are you from hell, Sytrius? Are you part of Evil?” I had never really believed in existence of either heaven or hell. However, I had never believed in the existence of demons either, and here I am being held by one. I refused to believe that he was evil, though. I knew him too well by now and didn’t believe that there was any true evil in him, no matter what his answer was at this time.

  “That’s what the common knowledge says, doesn’t it?” He didn’t sound sure himself.

  “But? It sounds like there is a ‘but’,” I asked, hopeful.

  “There is a story I heard long time ago… A legend. It says that incubi were not created by hell, that we were created in heaven, like all creations. The story says that some of the angels were punished once for disrespecting a woman in one way or another. They were then stripped of their divinity, banished from heaven and scattered through worlds and dimensions… The source of our true n
ourishment was made to come from a woman’s pleasure now. This was the punishment for showing disrespect once – forcing us to provide pleasure now in order to feed… Our wellbeing depends on whether we can earn the trust of a woman for her to let us close, to let us pleasure her intimately… for as long as it pleases her and for as long as it takes to earn her love, until we are forgiven…” His voice trailed off, and he stroked my braid behind my back, lost in his own thoughts for a second. “It is a well-known story among the incubi; however, it is only a speculation at best. Nobody knows for sure, and no one really remembers…”

  “What do you believe, Sytrius?”

  “I don’t know…”

  He hesitated, as if he had something else to say but wasn’t sure if he should, and I waited patiently for a few seconds before he spoke again.

  “Having to pleasure a women in order to survive may look like a lesson to teach humility and selflessness to some, but to me it is the best part of our existence. I don’t see it as a punishment or a curse. However, I do believe that we are cursed… Everything about our reality is a curse. The constant suffering from hunger that can never be satisfied is a curse. The fear that I could kill with one touch the very person that I want only to pleasure and protect is a curse. To be denied the chance to be close to a woman when I cannot stay away from her is a true curse…”

  “Sytrius!” I wanted to say something, I felt that he needed me to say something that would comfort him in some way, any way… but I had no words. What could I say? How could I ease the ancient suffering that had been part of his very being for much longer than I had been alive? How could I begin to understand what it was like to carry the curse for this long, to assent to it and at the same time to resent it for centuries?

  “I cannot love,” he continued gravely. “I cannot procreate. I cannot create anything at all. I cannot give anything. I can only take and take without limit, take until there is nothing left.”

  His voice was very soft, but every one of his words thundered inside my head. I cannot love, I cannot procreate… In the time I had known him I had never, not for a second, entertained the idea of any future with him. On the contrary, I had, whenever I could, reminded myself that nothing could ever be between us. However, hearing him now confirming it to me out loud still gutted me. Knowing that my dream was the most we would ever have was sad. I knew what he was, and I had been taking care not to get my heart involved. Why did it still feel like my heart was breaking?

  “I wore the armor, Alyssa,” he continued. “Not for my own protection like people do. The mask, the gloves… I wore them to protect you from me. I want to touch you more than anything, with my hands, my lips… and I’m afraid that once I do, I would never be able to stop, and I would drain you, kill you… with my own hands…” He paused again. “And the biggest curse of all is that this existence is forever. I cannot die; there is no end… “

  I realized that my hands were fisted into his t-shirt over his chest. We were lying side by side with my head tacked below his, my forehead pressed into his chest just below his chin. I pressed my eyes closed, as if it could help me stop hearing the pain in his words. The urge to comfort him was overwhelming.

  “Sytrius!” I groaned finally. “No! How can you say that? Don’t you see?”

  The words I had been looking for were coming to me now with a neck-breaking speed, rushing each other.

  I shoved my fists into his chest with force, and he let me push him onto his back. Then, I threw one leg over his middle and sat up, straddling him.

  “How can you say you can’t give anything? Don’t you see?” I repeated, looming over him. “I have known you for a very short time, a miniscule amount of time, really, if compared to your lifetime… But look how much you had given me? You gave me hope when I had none. You gave me my freedom back. You saved my life! There is so much good in you! Even now, you keep taking care of me. You make me feel safe. You’ve made me trust you! You cannot be from evil. I would never believe that you are!”

  He looked up at me in surprise.

  “You really think that.” It wasn’t a question; he could see my emotions clearly, and he knew I felt every word I said. “You know, there is one part in the story I told you that makes me think there must be some truth to it. I know that the gift of creation is divine. Hell is unable to create. Nothing can be created there. That means we were all created by heaven, and it gives me hope that if the story is true, that if I am not of Evil… that maybe, one day, I could be forgiven…”

  He whispered the last part barely audible, as if he was afraid to voice his hope out loud.

  “Oh, Sytrius…” I let go off his shirt and brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Sytrius.” I wanted to cup the side of his face next but then stopped myself with my hand in the air, remembering what he had said. “Can I touch you, Sytrius? Skin to skin?” I had touched him before: his hand, his head, his hair, but I never thought about asking then. He’d spoken about it being dangerous, and I wanted to make sure now.

  “Touch me.” He nodded, reminding me of my dream. “Please.”

  I placed my palm on the side of his face immediately and moved my thumb gently along the ridge of his cheekbone.

  “Nothing happened.” I smiled. “Why are you afraid that you’d kill me?”

  “I’m afraid to lose control if I go too far. The problem is even I don’t know what ‘too far’ means. I’m afraid I would only find out when it’s too late…” He exhaled and leaned into my hand at his face. “Your hand on me is …exhilarating, but if I cross the line, if you feel that something is wrong, you would pull it away, and the contact would be broken. If I touch you myself without the gloves… I can’t predict what would happen, but I am much stronger than you. You won’t be able to get away if I hold you with my bare hands and drain you.” He exhaled a shuddering breath. “I can control myself. Mostly. I was chosen to be the Handler in the first place for my superior self-control around humans.” He smiled carefully. “You make it more challenging, though.”

  “Why?”

  “You… You cause a million uncontrollable feelings in me. Some of which I cannot name, none of which I ever remember having before... All our interactions with humans are strictly regulated because we’ve forgotten how to behave ourselves naturally among them; that is, if we ever knew in the first place, of course… A strict set of rules governs our day-to-day behaviour around humans to avoid harming them and to protect our isolation. I was not allowed to talk to you. I could never touch you skin-to-skin. I could never take any emotions directly from you. I was never to skim any of your sexual energy. I was not allowed to walk through walls in front of you or invade your dreams. I was not allowed to show you my face or tell you my name… All of these rules I have broken by now. Every single one. And I would do it again in a heartbeat over and over again, even if I have to suffer in Inferno for the rest of eternity. The rules kept me away from you, but I couldn’t stay away even if I tried now. All these rules were in place to protect you, though. Without them, you have no defense from me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you, Sytrius.” I cupped his face with both of my hands now. “I don’t believe that you would hurt me. I don’t think that you can…”

  In one quick movement he sat upright in bed, making me squeak in surprise as I slid from his stomach into his lap. He seized my upper arms with his hands and moved his face close to mine, looking deep into my eyes.

  “How do you know, Alyssa? How can you be so sure? How can you trust me so much?”

  I couldn’t answer any of these questions. I didn’t entirely know why I was sure he would never hurt me. I knew I shouldn’t trust him with my heart, but I did trust him with my life without reservations. It was the only absolute conviction I had left. If only I could make him see it too!

  “Kiss me, Sytrius. Now,” I challenged and noticed the dark swirls instantly appearing deep inside the pupils of his eyes. It was like looking into an approaching hurricane. I was unable to run fro
m it, and it was impossible to stop it.

  A pained groan came from deep inside his chest, and his lips were on mine in an instant. The strength and intensity of the feeling that washed over me made my head spin. The actual kiss – the movement of his lips against mine, the caress of his tongue entwined with mine – none of it fully registered with me. I mostly just remembered the feeling of floating in utter bliss instead, forgetting about where I was, who I was…

  For a long wonderful moment, it was just his lips on mine and nothing else; the world no longer existed. I didn’t fully realize how much I had always wanted him to touch me like this: unhinged, uncontrolled, to kiss me with the unrestrained passion of the true demon that he was.

  He had touched me many times; he had brought me to orgasm more times than I could count, but none of it could have prepared me for the intensity of his passion when he wasn’t holding back!

  The wild, shameless lust that his kiss ignited in me raged inside of me, threatening to consume me. I moaned into his mouth, wrapped my arms tightly around him and hooked my legs around his waist, pulling myself closer to him…

  The dreadfully familiar, chilling sensation touched my lips unexpectedly, spreading from where his mouth devoured mine down along the skin of my face. The raging inferno of lust sizzled under it and was extinguished in seconds. With my hands on his shoulders, I pushed myself away from him, needing to see his face, and he let me as his arms dropped from my shoulders in defeat.

  He was panting hard, his mouth open, his lips bruised and glistening wet from our kiss, his eyes wild… His eyes. They were glowing bright red now. The black swirls storming deep inside made them look like roaring fire in the bowels of a bottomless furnace.

  “Sytrius,” I called softly.

  I didn’t run. I was worried and maybe, just maybe, a little bit apprehensive, but I didn’t run. He let me go. He let me stop the kiss. He would not hurt me.

  “Sytrius. Come back,” I whispered, running my fingers through his disheveled hair, trying to tame it into submission, trying to soothe him.