Wicked Pleasure

by Nina Bangs

  Heavy-lidded, he watched her from eyes that shone knowing and wicked, that promised he could slide his fingers across her bared body, touch her with his mouth in ways that would make her cry out with need. She allowed her senses a silent scream at the awesome possibilities.

  She couldn’t hold his gaze, so she lowered her attention to his mouth. Deliberately, he gripped his bottom lip between his teeth and then released it. He smiled, a slow erotic suggestion, daring her to accept his sensual invitation, to cover his mouth with hers, to smooth her tongue over the soft sheen of that lip.

  Kim tried to turn away from his in-your-face seduction. She couldn’t. What did that say about her? And where had this whole scene come from? No sexy buildup, no conversational foreplay, just wham. It didn’t make sense.

  “Uh, well, thanks for putting Fo back together again. Um, I guess I’ll see you later.” From the deepening glow in his spectacular eyes, Kim guessed that she’d be seeing a lot more of him now than later. God, what to say? This was out of her realm of experience. Hey, demon destroying was easy compared to this.

  “Let yourself go, Kim. Live the moment.” He pulled his white T-shirt over his head in one smooth motion, exposing a wide expanse of muscular chest. “My hands, my mouth, my body, can bring you physical pleasure you’ve never dreamed you could experience.”

  “Sure. Lots of pleasure. Got it.” This is wrong. He’s a sleaze. Next he’ll probably hand you his business card listing his hourly rates. Throw him out. Kim’s brain was issuing orders with machine gun rapidity, but her body wasn’t paying much attention. It was otherwise engaged. Her eyes had dropped to where his fingers were unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them, along with his briefs, down powerful thighs and legs. Somewhere along the way he’d rid himself of his shoes. Her mouth was hanging open, and commands to her jaw were being ignored. The rest of her body? All remaining body parts thought he was totally ripped and wanted to get on with the physical pleasure thing.

  Ignoring her wide-eyed and slack-jawed response, he strode to her bed and lay down. With his hands clasped behind his head, he studied her. “Come to me. Enjoy my body. Use me in any way you wish. There’s nothing I won’t do to please you.”

  Nothing? Absolutely nothing? She’d always wanted to . . . Kim mentally slapped herself upside her head. Stay focused.

  In a moment of lucidity, she noted that his voice had changed. It had deepened to a husky murmur, a sexual temptation to join him on her bed and explore his muscular expanse of smooth flesh and hard body. His speech pattern seemed from an older time, but it only made him more sensual.

  Kim swallowed with an audible gulp. She was torn between making a cowardly dash for the door and flinging herself onto the bed for a shot at living la vida loca. This was beyond bizarre. But while she was contemplating the weirdness of the whole thing, she slid her gaze over his broad chest and wondered what he would taste like if she touched one tempting male nipple with her tongue.

  Resisting arousal—or not—she watched his body sheen with a thin layer of sweat. And as her gaze moved lower, his erection swelled, demanding her attention. She fought the good fight—weak and pitifully ineffective though it was—against the mental picture forming. A visual of his sex buried deep inside her burst triumphantly onto the scene. Against her brain’s express orders, she edged closer to the bed.

  Did he know what she was thinking? Kim hoped not. She had to get out of here. His overwhelming sexuality was messing with her mind. Yeah, she was going to run from her own room. But if she opened her mouth to order him out, they’d both know she didn’t mean it.

  And then he spread his legs, a primitive and erotic call to everything female in her. But that’s not what tore a startled gasp from her.

  High on his inner thigh was the tattoo of a cat’s head. Even while she reeled from the shock, Kim dispassionately noted the details—a black cat with strange amber eyes. Even though it was only a tattoo, she could swear the eyes watched her with a wicked gleam. She shook her head to get rid of the impression. Then she backed away from him.

  A cat. One of the preferred symbolic animals for a demon. Cats had at one time or other in past ages been worshipped as gods and condemned as familiars.

  Brynn was a demon. For once, Fo had called it right. A demon. That explained the erotic spell he seemed to be casting over her. She understood her instant horror but not her soul-deep disappointment. She took a step toward Fo.

  He watched her move away from him, his gaze still dark with sexual hunger. If he could read her mind—and demons had no difficulty worming their way into human thoughts—he must know she realized what he was. The knowledge didn’t seem to effect his single-minded drive for the almighty orgasm.

  “Do you want my body, Kim?” His eyes said he already knew the answer to that.

  “You’re a demon. I’m a demon hunter. So what’re we going to do about that, hmm?” There. She’d said it. The Vaughn family book of demon-hunting rules stated that a destroyer should never let the demon know she’d made him. But Brynn had saved Fo, so Kim sort of owed him. Kim clung to that bit of logic and pushed away her conscience’s command to zap him.

  Now he’d leap from her bed and flee, thereby saving his beautiful butt from . . . From what? Could she coldly walk over to Fo, pick her up, and push the red button? Duty to her family said she had to, but her emotional reaction to the visual of Brynn reduced to nothing more than a pile of hot ash made her queasy. In the short time she’d known him, she’d grown to like him. Good grief, she’d watched him buy a bag of blow pops. How could she hate a demon that got pleasure from sucking on a blow pop? She couldn’t. She was such a wuss. Bad, bad demon hunter.

  “Do you want my body, Kim?” There was an urgency to his question that hadn’t been there before.

  “No.” Well, maybe a little. “No, definitely not.” Self-denial. It was one of her special talents. She moved closer to Fo, still fighting the battle between duty and emotion.

  Kim wasn’t prepared for what happened the moment she told him she didn’t want his body. Gone was the sensual animal luring her to perform unspeakable sexual acts on his magnificent body. A primal part of her mind mourned lost opportunities.

  With a few lithe movements that showcased the flow of supple skin over hard muscle, he rose from the bed and reached Fo before Kim could make a grab for her. He picked Fo up and flipped her open.

  Kim didn’t know what worried her more, being in the same room with a very bare demon or waiting to see if Fo was back. She exhaled a breath she hadn’t known she was holding as Fo’s big purple eyes appeared on the screen. Other than looking a little confused, they were vintage Fo.

  “Give Fo to me.” She spoke quietly with the same fake calmness she’d use if she were locked in a cage with a hungry tiger.

  “I don’t think so. Not just yet.” Brynn smiled at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Hand my clothes to me. Naked demons roaming the castle are bad for business.” He glanced down at Fo. “Feeling okay?”

  “I think so. But I don’t have any memory of the events during my near-death experience. Who did this to me?” Fo still looked unfocused.

  Near-death experience? Fo’s continuing referral to herself in human terms couldn’t be good for her long-term emotional health. But Kim hadn’t a clue how to handle the problem. “Wade, the man across the hall from us, accidentally knocked you out of my hands and then stepped on you.”

  “I do remember something.” Fo blinked up at Brynn. “You saved me.” Fo’s gaze was clear now, and Kim swore she saw hero worship shining in those purple eyes.

  Uh-oh. “Fo, Brynn is a demon. So that isn’t a good place for you to be.” What did she expect Fo to do?

  Fo’s eyes didn’t lose any of their shine, but they did roll to the bottom of her screen. “Woohoo! A hot hunky demon, all bare and gorgeous. Tip me down a little so I can see everything. It’s important for me to view and record images of demons in all their forms. I’ve never seen a naked one before.” />
  Damn. Kim didn’t know who she was more aggravated with, Fo or herself. Angrily, she kicked his clothes toward Brynn. She should’ve reacted faster, made a dash for Fo the second she saw the cat.

  Her shoulders slumped. Time for some self-honesty. It didn’t matter. She still wouldn’t have destroyed Brynn. Kim wasn’t like some of the more dedicated members of her family who zapped first and asked questions later. She’d need indisputable proof of Brynn’s demonic nature, like seeing him in his true, disgusting form, or witnessing him mooning her right before he tried to rip out her throat.

  Okay, okay, so she’d have to see him doing something really evil that proved he deserved to be destroyed. Getting naked and then offering his body wasn’t threatening enough, except to her sexual self. In fact, her sexual self was pretty ticked off that she’d passed up a chance at some sizzling heat between the sheets.

  Brynn continued to watch Fo. “What do you think, Fo? Should Kim use you to destroy me?” He didn’t sound too worried.

  Kim narrowed her gaze. He should be very worried, unless . . . “Are you in my mind?”

  He raised his gaze from Fo long enough to smile at Kim. “You bet. And I’m insulted. Offering you my body was supposed to be very threatening. Guess I’m a demonic failure. Won’t be moving up the demon corporate ladder anytime soon.” His smile remained fixed in place as he set Fo gently on the table.

  But his eyes . . . For just a moment, Kim thought she saw something close to despair in his gaze. She blinked. Demons didn’t feel despair. At least according to the Vaughn family records of demonic behavior. But then she remembered the emotions rolling off him last night. Maybe the Vaughn family records were wrong.

  Maybe he wasn’t a demon. He’d claimed he was human before. Was this just his idea of black humor? Her surge of hope surprised her. Sure, she didn’t want him to be a demon. That was her normal response when facing a possible malevolent spirit. But usually her emotions were all about her. How would she feel, what would she do? This time? It was all about Brynn. Faced with destruction, how would he feel?

  While she’d been thinking, he’d been dressing. Once dressed, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “Oh, and I’d stay away from Wade, Fo. I can’t guarantee that I could put you together again.”

  Kim couldn’t believe it. He was leaving. Just turning his back so she could pick up Fo and test exactly how demonic he was. A real demon wouldn’t take that chance. She had to know one way or another.

  “Whoa. You don’t leave this room without telling me what you are.” Oh, please. She wasn’t going to race across the room and tackle him. Was she? The image of his bare, buff body teased her memory. Not a totally bad idea.

  Stop it. Get a grip. There, she was focused again.

  He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m a demon of sensual desire, Kim. I thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

  Breathe, breathe, breathe. “An incubus?”

  His harsh laughter mocked her. “Not hardly. An incubus has choices. I don’t. And I don’t sneak up on women while they’re sleeping. I lay everything out while they’re wide awake. Maybe that makes me a little more honest.” He started to turn the knob.

  What had happened to his demon’s mantra—deny, deny, deny? Somehow he couldn’t work up the energy to think that through. She’d either let him walk or pick up Fo to end his existence. Right now, Brynn didn’t much care which. Her choice.

  “Come back and talk to me, Brynn.” She sounded calm, but he felt her fear and uncertainty as an acid trickle along the edges of what passed for his heart.

  Strange. He didn’t usually feel any emotions after the compulsion other than his own frustration and despair. And he never cared enough about the women who did or didn’t claim his body to tap into their emotions.

  She didn’t know it, but she was giving him that oh-so-rare gift, a choice. And he’d lied about not caring what decision she made. He always felt self-disgust after the compulsion ended, but he no longer hated himself enough to invite destruction.

  Brynn had pretty much figured that Kim wouldn’t use Fo to end his existence after he’d put Fo’s tiny bits and pieces back together again. He’d based his belief on the gut feeling that she was one of the few Vaughn family members without a shriveled raisin for a conscience.

  He weighed his possible responses—keep walking and let her think he was pond scum who got off on offering sex to every woman he met, or go back and explain that he had no options.

  Turning back was the coward’s path. Since he had no defenses against the compulsion, he’d compensated by taking pride in his strengths. Throughout his existence he’d never begged for sympathy. He did what he did and then walked away. The women who turned him down could think what they damned well pleased. And the ones who used him? They didn’t remember it as a real event, so they didn’t matter. Only since coming to the Castle of Dark Dreams had he lowered his defenses enough to allow a few friends to know about the compulsion. But never an outsider. No, he definitely had to walk away from Kim.

  He turned back. And that surprised him enough to keep him quiet until he’d dropped onto the couch. Kim sat in the chair across from him. He smiled. “Keeping the table between us?”

  She pulled Fo to her side of the table. “Keeping Fo between us.” Kim didn’t return his smile. “Let’s talk about your job description. When did you first realize your calling?” She pushed a strand of hair from her face.

  Now that he’d decided to tell her his story, he’d make it short and get his dumb butt out of here. Because opening up to a Vaughn couldn’t have a good ending. Kim might not hunt him down, but all she had to do was tell one of her relatives, and he’d have to run, kill, or go down. Not the kind of choices he had in mind.

  “I woke up in an inn five hundred years ago knowing I was a demon and that I was the proud owner of a compulsion. If I stay with a woman for more than an hour, I have to offer her my body. If she accepts, I’m hers until she can’t do it anymore.” He shrugged. “Usually a few hours, maybe a night. Once it’s over, I have the power to make her think it was all a dream. If the woman turns me down, I’m home free until the next time.”

  Kim frowned, a line forming between her eyes. He fixed his gaze on that line.

  “And if you try to resist the compulsion?”

  “Pain. Lots and lots of pain.”

  “How about if you go off by yourself for a while?”

  “After a few days away from women, more pain.”

  The crease between her eyes deepened. “Can’t you resist the pain?”

  “Ever been kicked in the balls?” He knew his smile was just a baring of his teeth. “No, guess not. It’s a man thing. You’ll just have to use your imagination. Not much chance of resisting it for more than say . . . three minutes.”

  “How did you survive for five centuries?” The horror in her voice shocked him into meeting her gaze. The few women who’d discovered the truth about him had one of two reactions—disgust or fascination. None of them gave a damn about his take on the whole sexual compulsion scenario.

  Her eyes were soft with sympathy.

  Not the response he’d expected. Not the one he wanted. “Don’t waste any pity on me. It didn’t take me long to develop a few coping skills.” Very few.

  “Like what?” She leaned forward, her gaze intent on him.

  Didn’t she know that her clear green eyes hid nothing, not her interest or her feelings? Suddenly uneasy, he looked away. He focused his attention on the two plants that sat on a small stand beneath one of the arrow slits. He didn’t know their names, but they had to be disappointed. They expected more from him. Too bad he wouldn’t be here when Kim found out about them.

  But she’d asked him a question. He raised his gaze to meet hers. “I was a little more subtle than usual with you.” And if he could figure out why, he’d feel a lot more in control.

  “Subtle?” She didn’t try to hide the disbelief in her voice. “Yeah, I guess if y
ou think a ten-point quake is just a ‘subtle’ tremblor. Me? I thought there was a whole lotta shakin’ going on.”

  Brynn took a quick glance at his watch. Better keep track of the minutes this time. “Here’s how it usually plays out.” He purposely met her gaze, letting the heat and hunger shine through. All fake. Then why didn’t it feel fake? His cock thought it felt damned real.

  He watched her swallow and let his gaze slide down to the smooth curve of her neck. Eric would appreciate a world-class neck like hers.

  But he wasn’t the only one with sliding-gaze syndrome. Hers was slipping and skipping down his torso, but it came to a skidding stop when it reached his arousal.

  He’d use his erection as part of his demonstration. Purposely, he spread his legs, stretching the material of his jeans taut across the bulge of his cock. “When I make the mistake of losing track of the time, the compulsion hits me. It’s instant arousal. Getting naked and offering my body is part of the compulsion. I don’t have any choice. But I can decide how I’ll offer myself.”

  Kim looked wary now. “And I assume the how is meant to be a major turnoff?”

  He didn’t need to do this. Sure you do. Because for the first time in hundreds of years, he had a hard-on that wasn’t compulsion generated. He couldn’t want one particular woman when he belonged to any female who put in her hour and said yes to his offer. It would hurt too much. And he was into avoiding pain wherever he found it. So yeah, he had to do this. Gross her out before he started liking her for her mind.

  Rising, he walked around the coffee table to stand behind her chair. He could feel tension along with excitement thrumming through her. Her scent was of warm, sunlit beaches and dark, tropical nights. And when the hell had he started noticing what women smelled like? It must be the whole opposites attract thing, because if he had a scent it was of rocky cliffs and blinding ice storms. Not compatible.