Neon Blue E Frost (speld decodable readers .TXT) 📖

I glance at his groin, expecting to see something different there, but it looks the same. Long, thick, so engorged it must be painful. I don’t see anything different, but I don’t care. I’m totally happy with what I’ve already seen.

He closes the space between us. His big hands slide up around my neck and throat, holding me as he starts to kiss me again. He rubs the smooth skin of his chest against my aching breasts. Heat and power. Sweat and the seawater smell of sex. He pushes against me, his thick tip probing. I struggle for a moment, uncomfortable on the edge of the counter. He reaches down and tilts my hips to the right angle. My legs come up naturally, wrap around his waist. He sinks into me, working his hips in tight circles. I feel him all through me.

I reach back, my hands feeling along the sink to the backsplash. He fucks me harder than any man I’ve been with. I brace myself and wait for him to begin pounding into me.

No, I want you close. He pulls me tight against him. My angle’s wrong again and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, trying to get my balance. His hand settles in the small of my back. Keeping my hips tilted. Keeping my groin welded to his. Keeping me still while an unfamiliar and impossible sensation laps over me.

What the—? I try to pull back. To look down. He doesn’t let me.

His dark chocolate chuckle slides through my mind. Nethertongue.

What?!

Just enjoy it. The impossible sensation slides over me again. I shudder. I don’t like oral sex. It’s wet and messy and leaves me feeling empty inside. This is completely different. He fills me, wedged so deep he pulses against my cervix with every rock of his hips, while that impossible sensation continues, circling the swollen nub of my clitoris, flicking in a rhythm that matches the throbbing deep inside me. His hands move over me, stroking my throat, my back, rocking my hips against the double pressure against and inside me. Good?

Good. Omigod, good.

Thought I could get you to like it. He pulls out a little so he can plunge back in. The wet lapping over my clitoris intensifies. I clutch at his shoulders, digging my nails in.

Yeah, just like that. He throws his head back, rams deep into me, his hands on my hips holding me still against the force of his thrusts. I’m shuddering. I’ve never felt anything like this and it’s more than I can stand. The friction of him pumping inside me and the motion against my clitoris make my whole body scream. The mounting electric energy swells and builds in tight waves.

He brings his head forward and looks directly into my eyes. The neon-blue glow fills my mind. You want to come?

God, yes. I grab at him, suddenly fearful he’s going to say no, exercise his right to have it his way.

So do I. His hands tighten on my hips. Tomorrow I’ll be bruised, but right now, high on endorphins and power, it just makes me gasp with pleasure. Swear you’ll drink everything I give you tonight.

Wha—?

Just swear it.

It’s too hard to think. He’s still driving himself inside me, filling me over and over while that impossible, amazing pressure laps over my clitoris. I tremble with effort, and my impending orgasm. Give in. Okay, okay, I swear.

He brings me to climax immediately. Sweet and hard. Sweating and shaking from the force of the orgasm that tears through me. Thunder rumbles outside. Plasma leaps off my skin, showering across the tile. It runs under his skin, swelling his veins to glowing paths of light. Leaves me gasping and limp in his arms.

He kisses me through the aftermath, one hand cupping my head. Whatever’s down there licks me gently. His other hand roams my skin the way it did when we were going at it. Stroking me everywhere, keeping my skin alight, tingling with the promise of more.

When he finally lets me go, I slump back against the wall and watch him dress. He does it unselfconsciously. Letting me watch. I can’t see anything different about his groin. Whatever was down there has disappeared into the dark thicket of his pubic hair.

“What are you going to make me drink?” I ask. My voice sounds rough, husky. Not like my voice at all. “More of your blood?”

He towels sweat off his face and neck, wads up the paper towel and tosses it into the waste basket. Nope.

Then what?

Wait ‘n’ see. See you outside.

He leaves me straightening my clothes.

When I return to the counter, the sushi boat is only half-finished. The sushi chef glances at me incuriously as I sit down beside the demon. We haven’t been gone long enough to cause even a raised eyebrow.

You did that weird time thing again, didn’t you? I sit down shakily, trying to pull myself together. Trying to pretend that I didn’t just have sex with a demon in a public restroom.

Yup. Have some saki. He nudges my cup.

I sip hesitantly, expecting some awful addition. But it just tastes like saki. Warm and mellow with an acidic edge that keeps it from being bland. “This is nice,” I say slowly.

How much you usually drink?

Not a lot. Why?

How much is too much?

Three glasses is usually my limit. Why?

The demon refills my cup, which is still more than half full. I don’t want you puking on me later. “Kampai.”

Kampai?

Bottoms up. The demon tinks his cup against mine, tosses it back and pours himself another.

I watch him warily. You’re trying to get me drunk?

Thinking about it, yeah.

Um, it’s not like you need to get me drunk to take advantage of me. I can’t believe we just did that. In a public bathroom. Without a condom.

He grins, but responds seriously. Told you, I don’t get human diseases.

You can still carry them, though.

That’s water demons, sweet meat. They’re the plague-bringers. I burn off anything I’m exposed to. You’re safe with me.

Not. So,