by Larissa Ione
Her tongue pushed past his lips to tangle with his, and he growled at the taste of her. Her flavor was bold and wicked, like the scent of her lust, but beneath it all lurked a faint sweetness, as though innocence had been buried.
Buried under the corpses of his brethren she’d killed, most likely.
An icy blast speared his chest and he reared back, his control balancing on a scalpel’s edge. This was his greatest fear, the loss of restraint as The Change took him – the s’genesis had to be the reason he was on the verge of mounting the enemy like a beast in rut.
But when her hand brushed his shaft, the beast suddenly didn’t care who she was or what she’d done. He was a Seminus demon, after all, a breed of incubi that lived for sex, existed to deceive and cause misery through intimate means once the s’genesis was complete. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to fight his nature. Perhaps his nature was his weapon against an age-old enemy.
Her fingers closed around his sex through his scrub pants, and fuck, he was tired of analyzing his body, his emotions, and his instincts. It was time to just feel.
He rocked his hips into her touch as desire rocked the rest of his body.
“Please,” she begged against his lips, “please. Touch me.”
Groaning, he dropped a hand down to one hip and lifted her so that his erection nudged her other hip.
So much for remaining professional.