Chapter 1:12 Asmodeus Exists, Xoxo Nyx 

“I didn’t tell you to move,” without taking a step, the warning growl is all I get before the Incubus is towering over me, and I’m suddenly spun with him binding my wrists at the small of my back.

Before I can yelp or process the too fast motion, a large, hot hand comes down in a stinging strike on my right back cheek. I mean to scream, but it comes out as a whimper with my inability to process the wild mix of shame, indignity, and confusion. 

My cotton boy short panties no better than a burst water pipe failing to contain the lust his power and presence flood my lower regions with. “Be a good girl for Papa. Yes?” His voice is right on the shell of my ear. 

So close that I can feel the rumble of satisfaction as I wiggle against him. Praying that the friction of my slick thighs will ease the still echoing pulse I can’t process, let alone dignify, what’s happening with the hard and harsh slap on my other cheek.

The Italian’s black clad knee slipping between mine to stop the only prayer I have to get my wits back. Right before that hand descends again, bringing a pathetic little mew of shock in my head; easily mistaken for a moan of absolute rapture aloud.

“You’re already passed three strikes in five seconds, pet,” Asmodeus informs me in that tone that makes it impossible to breathe anything but his ridiculously good smelling cologne.

No ordinary Incubus could have me halfway to an orgasm with a voice adjustment. So logically, this man must be the Prince and Master of all sexual entities.

Releasing my wrists only to grip my throat, collaring me to whatever this madness is. The hold is so different, still as terrifying as it was, but in an all-consuming and evocative way. There is no excuse for this other than demon ecstasy pills crushed and injected to the air I’m breathing.

I gulp into his palm and get another pleasureful sound from the demon who just spanked me and is now teasing me with the thick thigh so close to the spot I need it with my back to his chest. Melting my resistance with his tongue traveling the lobe of my ear, and his words a triple threat that makes my knees buckle.

“No matter how hungry your little pussy is, no part of your little body is going to be able to take the punishment if you keep it up.” Even in the whisper, his voice is as deep as the suck he makes on the fragile sweet spot he’s found. Letting the exhale of his nose into the hollow of my ear shoot through me like lighting.

My free hands go to grip the one he has around my throat. I can feel my nipples hardening, and straining for attention as much as the treacherous v all but riding his thigh while my backside posts to the monster pulsing on it.

I will be having a serious conversation with all my humming holes after this. No amount of time without sex can justify the fact my lady bits are begging for a stranger. A client!

Even so, I’m utterly grief stricken that my cheeks are hopping to the hand soothing the sting it just laid. Even worse than pulling to the client's hand rubbing my backside; I'm downright mortified that those fingers are behind me rather than the hornets nest a few inches below screaming for them.

With a gasp and minor grip, I try to at least verbally protest against my wayward vagina’s wishes.

“I...nnn” Another harder and even more exotic wack comes down, lighting up my whole backside, shooting right into my clit as if they are connected. My knees dip further, rubbing the pulsing gem on the taut muscle of his thigh, and no feigning that sound as anything other than a wanton moan.

I struggle to get out the rejection when he withdraws the hard surface I needed. Only my brain seems to process that it’s a good thing, while the rest weeps to get any part of him I can.

“Yes, Papa.” The answer still being growled into my sensitive ear. Making my jaw shiver and my eyes roll back with the intentional grind of his hips. Thankfully, not another delicious spank my poor brain can’t fathom withstanding.

The pressure of his palm around my throat increases, and I’m more aware of my pumping chest. Drunk and dumb with the hold limiting my air and still stoking the bizarre hormonal firestorm in my center.

“B..bu..butt.” I pant into that gentle vice grip, and swear he knows I’m all but creaming as a new reign of spanks come in spurts that I wish were his hips. Not to mention the thing I felt too well earlier plowing me instead of just his hand.

Each new brutal slap rides that line of pleasure and pain on a roller coaster of lust that makes as much sense as a drunken horse running into a burning stable, “I’m.....” I pant through the sounds he’s wrenching with every scrap of will that’s been trying to fight him.

“Keep talking back, Kitten....” It’s an even deeper hiss against my other ear as his masterful long fingers clench my hair. Positioning my neck for him to suck and nip a spot I didn’t know existed. The hold on my throat is released for his fingers to slide past my racking chest and into the band of my pants.

“I really am going to stuff those naughty little lips instead of this sopping wet mess begging me to fuck it.” Asmodeus’ words are a breath from my lips. So close to a kiss that will seal my fate, that they brush mine like a feather as the full pressure of his palm strokes my clit over my soaking underwear and wrecked core. 

I gasp and whimper, struggling against my lust-driven body, one slide from climax. 

“S.tt....” I can’t get the word out with his lips covering mine. Even if I did, my legs are spreading and the pulsing gem half a heart beat from dancing me over the edge of an orgasm is pushing to the connection.

Just like my mouth is opening for his tongue to press and swipe into the hollow depths and lick the whimper it draws out. I’m so close I can taste it. So hot I’m falling into.... the most dangerous, sexy and controlling being I’ve ever set eyes on. Feeling owned in a way........

Asmodeus exists, I tell you because I’m about to shatter on him, regardless of being fully clothed and half compliant. Energy feeders are not biblical demons. Just aliens in human skin. I’ve never met one that I know of because even if I did, all the Mystics in Haven have their powers and appetites suppressed. 

We are humane, if not human.

The association is a result of my wild imagination, and what my brother dubs a truly pathetic versus non-existent sex life. I’m sure that women throw their-selves at this man all the time. That most any other girl in my shoes would be riding, begging, surrendering without care or complaint, but nothing about this is me.... 

Somewhere in the sex charged spell, I know that, but.....

His grip returns to my throat, cutting off my breath completely, and I feel those too talented fingers pulling away from where I need them, a whisper from culmination. With the loss of sheer adrenaline, endorphins and flat out horny that has consumed my conscience, my brain catches up with the situation.

My mouth free of his. “Stop,” I whimper out trying to escape the forbidden fruit of his pheromone-based scent, and whatever enthralled spell he had me under before denying the orgasm I didn’t know I could need that badly.