Wynne Hayworth - Demons are a Ghouls Best Friend: Afterglow, Book 2

Desire ripped through her, a fiery chill that took the breath from her lungs and had her gasping with the force of it.

Lust, sharp and clawing at her guts, a fierce and hungry need to taste this man, to have the tang of him on her tongue, the scent of him in her nose and the feel of him beneath her.

She watched as he walked through the darkness to his car, long legs eating up the pavement with an easy stride. He was tall, very tall. She liked that, knowing his height made him just a little bit more special than he already was. At least to her.

She envisioned tearing off his shirt and touching his body--running her hands over his smooth skin, tracing his muscles, maybe teasing his nipples with her nails and her mouth. Was he sensitive there? Would he quiver or moan at such a caress?

Would he respond in kind? Would he reach for her breasts even as she fondled him, and would his hands be firm, knowing where to touch, how to arouse? She knew they would be. This was a man born with knowledge enough to stimulate a woman to insanity.

She pulled deeper into the shadows, tucked into the black impenetrable angles of a building, hidden from sight. Her wings trembled as she let the hotly erotic images spill out into her mind, all brought on by the mere sight of him.

He'd slowed his pace, glancing around. It was almost as if he was aware of her gaze. Perhaps, on some level, he was. He had a talent that she'd yet to identify. She knew what he wasn't, not what he was.

The tiny blue spot on his earlobe marked him as an AG--she'd seen it the first time she'd watched him. He was a human with mutated DNA, known now as an Afterglow--homage to the astronomical event that created them. But he wasn't a vampire or a fairy. Perhaps a shape shifter, but he'd never seemed to need any of the associated trappings. Ditto werewolf. He liked animals, but didn't change into one at the full moon.

She knew all this with certainty. She'd filed away her observations, watching when the opportunity presented itself. And her fascination with this man had grown along with her desire to possess him.

To have him naked and aroused on top of her, or to ride him as he bucked and thrust into her. She wanted to hold his cock, to stroke it until he sobbed with pleasure, to suck it, bring him to the very brink--and then impale herself on it, sending them both spinning into an orgasmic vortex.

The images made her realize she was wet and aching. With caution, she turned slightly away from the man and slipped her hand beneath her full black skirt. Finding the right place, damp and slick, she rubbed--careful to ensure that her movements were silent, her panting breaths no more than a whisper lost in the night.

He was in his car now, starting the engine. Her personal motor was already running, purring along, increasing in intensity with the touch of her own hand. She closed her eyes as he drove away, past the spot where she stood, body shaking, rising to the edge of an orgasm.

It would be him, she knew. It would be him, his mouth, his tongue on her, his hands digging into her buttocks as he made her come. His hair against her thighs. He'd fuck her with those beautiful lips tight against her pussy, then after she'd exploded the first time, he'd fuck her once more. This time with his cock, thrusting deep and fast, and forcing her to that magnificent peak over and over again.

She could see it, feel it, experience it in her mind. He'd groan, his face contorted as he stared at their bodies.

Her thighs shook as she let the climax free and bit back a cry of completion. Her fingers were soaked, her mind a blank--and then it was gone. A tiny slice of time that was pure pleasure and just for her.

Sated, she leaned into the cold concrete wall and withdrew her hand. A smile curved her lips. This was how it would be with him. Incredible, erotic and satisfying.

Even more so when he lay next to her and she could lick the sweat from his skin. Nibble her way down his chest and back up--and then climb onto his body and rip into the firm muscle revealing the flesh and blood beneath.

Oh yes. That would be the best moment of all. The moment when the awareness of his fate would dawn in those lovely eyes of his.

It was a moment she knew would come.

When she would, perhaps, hold his still beating heart in her hand, the hot blood flowing copiously between her fingers as she raised it to her lips.

Or would she just take his essence, steal what it was that made him special? Use it as she had used others, and just discard the empty vessel that had housed it? She didn't know yet. But the anticipation tore through her like a lightning bolt from hell and made her want to shriek with impatience.

The slender figure dressed in black staggered and raised a hand to her head. She was dizzy, disoriented, her body lax, her skirt mussed.

What the fuck?

The little Fae lifted a hand to her forehead and grimaced. She should've had something to eat instead of skipping dinner and agreeing to meet her friends at the bar an hour early. And she'd sure as shit better go easy on the Moonbeam Martinis.