Neon Blue by E Frost (best book reader .TXT) 📗

out. We’re about to do it. At least tell me what you like.”

Missionary position. I’m so not admitting this stuff out loud. I know, I know. It’s really boring. But I like it.

Nothing boring about having you under me. Anything else?

I rub my hands over my face. Avoid looking at him. Oral sex. I like giving. Not so much getting. Fingers are okay.

One, two, three? How many you like?

I can’t believe I’m discussing this with him. Even inside my head. Two are the most I’ve done.

Two fingers. Anything else?

Heat burns through my cheeks.I’m not admitting any more. No, that’s it.

Ears. Biting. Me on top. Two fingers. Got it. There’s a long pause during which he watches me. C’mon, sweet meat, ain’t you even gonna ask?

Ask what?

The demon shakes his head. What I like.

And it hits me how insensitive I’ve been.

I scoot over until I’m kneeling next to him, looking into his face. “I’m really sorry.”

He doesn’t look at me. Yeah.

“No, really. I’m really, really sorry. I thought you’d just – you know – do whatever you wanted. It didn’t occur to me that you’d want me to, uh—”

He lifts his head. His eyes are so dark they swallow the light. “I’ve fucked hundreds of humans,” he says. “Not one of ‘em’s ever asked. Not one.”

I touch his chest hesitantly, because he seems like he’s about to move away from me, which I should want, but everything’s confused and I’ve hurt him when I didn’t mean to, when he was trying to be nice to me. “What do you like?”

“Everything,” he says, but there’s no resonance to his voice.

I try another tact. “What would you most like me to do, right now?”

A glimmer in the darkness of his eyes. “You mean it?”

“Yes. Tell me what you’d like most, right at this moment.”

“You’ll say no.”

My stomach clenches. Has this been a ploy to get me to offer him my soul? I search his face. There’s no shark’s leer, no calculation. “Try me.”

“I want you to take off that nightgown. Show me all that soft human skin. And I want your mouth on me again. Everywhere.”

My embarrassment at showing him my flaws has vanished along with the wounds on his arm. I pull the nightgown over my head unceremoniously.

“Seduction’s not really your thing, is it, sweet meat?”

I shrug. “No.”

He reaches out and runs his fingertips down the outer curve of my arm. “Soft.” The richness is back in his voice.

I smile tentatively. “Is that what you see?”

“It’s not all I see, but, yeah, what I mostly notice is how soft you are.” He grins. “Now what about that mouth?”

“Where d’you want it?” I ask softly. Seduction may not be my best thing, but I have my moments.

The demon chuckles. “Here.” He tilts his head to the side, stretching his neck and revealing another long gash parallel to his jugular. “One of your bat friends got me.”

I could lean over and lick it closed. Or I could climb on top of him and press the softness he likes so much against him while I do it.

“Would you like me to go on top?”

“For now . . .” A darker, richer chuckle. “Yeah.” He lies back on the bed and holds his hands out to me.

I slide slowly on top of him. Skin on skin. Breasts and belly and thighs rubbing over his. The friction makes me shiver with delight, as does the rush of tingling energy that rises whenever we touch. Under me, the demon groans. His arms close around me, hands splaying across my back and pressing me tight to him. He feels warm and firm, with that sense of muscled, male strength.

“See, sweet meat, isn’t that good?”

“Yes,” I admit in a whisper.

“Knew we’d have some nice chemistry between us if you’d just relax.” He lifts his hips so his erection pushes against me. Everything inside me tightens, heats, swells. Power pools in my stomach.

“I’m, uh, relaxed.”

“Yeah, sure. Mouth, now.”

I oblige him, sliding up enough that I can lower my face into his neck and lick the wound there. Even though he’s just showered, the smell of his skin rushes up to me. Hot spices, musk and the hint of smoke. The taste of his not-blood fills my mouth like a liqueur.

He arches his neck so I can reach the top of the wound. I feel it close under my tongue and keep going, licking along the edge of his jaw, which is inhumanly smooth, over the sharp point of bone, up to his ear.

“Oh, yeah, that’s good. I can see why you like ears,” he murmurs.

I touch the tip of my tongue to his earlobe, feel its smoothness, before sliding my tongue into the warm inner recesses.

He groans, “More.”

I smile against his ear, flick my tongue gently. His hands begin to move on me, sliding up and down my back, over the swell of my ass, down between my legs. “You wanted to keep this under wraps? What a waste.” His long fingers stroke my inner thighs, slip between them.

I gasp into his ear.

“Mmm, you’re wet already.”

His voice, his heat, his fingers rubbing me, his hard length pressed against my thigh. I’m ready. As ready as I’m going to get. “Let me, um, get you a condom.”

“Later.” A dark chocolate chuckle. “Slow down, sweetness. I want that mouth everywhere. One place in particular.” He takes my hand and guides it between us, between his legs. “That chunk you took outta me’s never healed.”

“It hasn’t?” Surprised and curious, I rise off him. Kissing him healed my wrist. I’d assumed it healed him as well. And all the sex he’s had . . . has he been doing it wounded? That must hurt.

“Where’re you goin’?” he protests. “Come back here.” His big hands close around my waist, pull me back onto him.

“I was just going to look at it.”

“Look later. Mouth, now.”

I prop myself up with my hands on either side of his head. “Now?”

“Right now.” He frowns, unconvincingly. Like he’s trying hard not to grin.

I settle onto him, cup