“What are you going to do to me?” I asked in a trembling voice. “I mean…didn’t we already pay the Sin Tax just now when you, uh…?”
“Suckled your sweet nipples? No.” Laish shook his head. “If we had, you would have felt the ripple in the air as you did on the banks of the Styx. No, Gwendolyn, as I told you, a deeper and more serious sin is required to move into each circle of Hell. This time a little sexual pleasure is not enough.” He kissed my nipple again. “Tonight I must make you come.”
“Laish!” I protested again. “I can’t…I’ve never let anyone…”
“I know.” His eyes flashed. “Which is why I am very much looking forward to it. But first we need to get out of the bath and dry off. I want to be able to see your beautiful body spread out before me when I bring you to the peak.”
Fitting his big hands under my thighs and ass, he stood, lifting me easily and stepped out of the bath. He stood me on the cold marble floor and wrapped a big, fluffy white bath towel around me before tending to himself.
I clutched the towel and looked away, blushing furiously as he stripped off the soaked trousers and the black silk boxers he’d been wearing under them. I know it sounds silly and naïve but I’d never seen a naked man before—well, except on a movie screen. But not up close and personal. Grams had warned me early on how once a guy gets naked, things start moving forward whether you want them to or not. So this kind of intimacy was something I had always carefully avoided.
Laish chuckled at my reaction to his nudity, apparently amused at my naiveté. Then he stopped laughing and became suddenly serious.
“Gwendolyn, look at me,” he murmured.
“I don’t want to.” I kept my eyes averted.
“Why do you blush so, mon ange? Am I that frightening to you?”
“I’ve just never…never seen a naked guy in person. Okay?” I said, feeling my cheeks get even hotter.
“You have seen Druaga,” he pointed out.
I knew he was referring to the boar-demon’s massively oversized, totally exposed genitals which, while disgusting, were just too big and weird to seem real. They were more like some kind of bizarre Hentai cartoon you’d accidentally run across on the internet than something you’d expect to see in real life on an actual person.
“That’s different,” I said, still looking away. “He’s a beast—an animal. And his…equipment is so big it’s like some kind of sad, sick joke.”
“His kind are able to grow out their ‘equipment’ as you put it, in the same way you can grow out your hair. I believe what you see as a deformity, Druaga sees as an achievement.” He cocked his head, still looking at me. “But you see me differently than him?”
“Of course,” I said impatiently. “You’re a real person.”
“Do you think so?” His deep voice was strangely distant now, filled with some emotion I couldn’t name. It made me look at him despite myself, though I kept my eyes above his waist.
“Well…yes.” I looked at him uncertainly. “Aren’t you?”
He sighed. “Some would say I am not. You might say so yourself if you saw me in my true form.”
I bit my lip uneasily.
“Is it really that frightening? Are you…do you look like Druaga?”
He gave a harsh, humorless laugh.
“I do have animal forms that I can take but I am not a Wendingo. A demon who is part beast or has beastly characteristics,” he explained, seeing my confused expression. “But neither am I as you see me now.”
“So can you transform at will?”
“Into several different forms—my true form included.”
“Do you…do you want to transform now?” I asked, trying to be brave. “Do you want me to see you in that form—your true form?”
He sighed again.
“For now I would be pleased if you would see me just as I am—in human form. Look at me, Gwendolyn—all of me. And do not be afraid.”
Biting my lip, I allowed my eyes to roam over his naked body. I liked his height and his broad shoulders, his muscular chest and trim hips. He had long, well-muscled legs with just a dusting of black hair on them—he even had nice feet. Then, when I had looked everywhere else, I finally let my eyes settle between his thighs.
“Oh,” I whispered.
He was big—there was no denying it. Even only semi-hard his shaft was thick and long and dangerous looking. But at least it wasn’t so obscenely huge as to be out of proportion to the rest of him, like Druaga’s.
“Well?” he murmured and I realized my gaze had been lingering between his legs just a little too long.
“Um…” I forced myself to meet his eyes, my cheeks burning. “You’re very, uh, naked.”
He gave a soft, rumbling laugh.
“So are you…but for those little wet panties. Which I think we must remove before we go to the bed.”
“What—so we’ll both be naked at the same time?” I shook my head. “Uh-uh, no way. That’s a bad idea.”
“What are you afraid of?” he taunted softly. “That I will be tempted to go too far…or that you will?”
“Either or both,” I said firmly. “Whichever way it doesn’t matter. I’m not getting in bed with you if both of us are completely naked—it’s not safe.”
“Haven’t I just finished explaining to you that nothing here is safe? That you are in danger every moment?” he said, raising an eyebrow at me. “However, if it will make you feel better…”
He reached up and did that neat little trick of his, pulling a pair of long, black silk sleep trousers out of thin air. Stepping into them casually, he pulled them up and tied the silk string across his flat belly. I couldn’t help noticing how he had that little ridge of muscle on either side, starting at the hip bone and going down to his groin—the “V muscle” one of my girlfriends called it. The waistband of the trousers seemed to accentuate it, making him look even hotter dressed than he was naked—if that was possible. Or maybe I just felt more comfortable looking at him now that his “danger zone” as Grams called it, was covered.
“All right, Gwendolyn,” he murmured, giving me a burning look. “I am dressed now—it is time for you to get naked.”
“I…um…” I tried to back away but he was already peeling away my towel and reached for my panties.
“Come, mon ange,” he murmured, hooking his long fingers in the waistband of the fragile silk and lace underwear. “You know I will never hurt you—I wish only to see you and drink in your beauty.”
I didn’t know how I felt about anyone “drinking me in” especially if that someone was Laish. I didn’t exactly hate my body but I wasn’t its biggest fan either. For one thing, I’m way too broad in the hips and thighs. I have a nice round butt—what Grams calls a “caboose” but my breasts are a little too full to be as perky as I’d like.
In general, I guess I have body issues, like any other woman. Even the prettiest, slimmest girls I’ve ever met have them—nobody seems to be really happy with what they’ve got.
It didn’t help that Laish was so supernaturally handsome either. It was like I’d been asked to strip and stand right beside a model and I definitely felt sub-par in comparison.
Still, he was obviously determined to see me completely naked and there didn’t seem to be much I could do about it. Anyway, I told myself. Maybe this will make him leave me alone. Once he sees I don’t look like a supermodel in my birthday suit, maybe he’ll decide I’m not worth bothering with.
So I made myself stand still as Laish knelt before me and slipped the soaked panties down my thighs. I didn’t even try to cover myself when he stood up and looked at me, those ruby eyes raking over my body from top to bottom and back up again.
“Well?” I asked at last, feeling both embarrassed and impatient. It was taking everything I had not to cover my breasts and sex with my hands. I don’t know how nude models do it—it’s hard to stand in front of another person wearing nothing but your skin.
Laish looked up from his
leisurely visual tour of my body and met my eyes.
“You’re so beautiful, Gwendolyn,” he said softly. “I wonder if you have any idea how gorgeous you truly are?”
“Laish…” I shifted uneasily and he shook his head.
“No, I can see you do not. Well, let us see if we can remedy that tonight.”
Stooping, he lifted me into his arms again and carried me out of the bathroom. Then, despite my half-hearted protests, he laid me right in the middle of the bed.
Chapter Fifteen
Laish
My little witch truly had no idea of her own beauty. She lay there on the bed blushing and trying to cover herself with her small hands which weren’t quite up to the job. Her full breasts spilled over one arm and though she tried to hide the smooth triangle between her legs, I could see just a hint of her sex peeping out from between her fingers. Her green eyes were wide and uncertain and she was biting her lip in agitation.
“Gwendolyn,” I murmured, climbing onto the bed with her to hold her. “What is it, mon ange? What do you fear?” I asked, taking her in my arms.
“You know what I’m afraid of.” She shifted against me, clearly still not at ease. I wished she could relax as she had when I held her in the tub. Of course then her body had been fighting the aftershock of the devilkin venom and she’d been too preoccupied with feeling ill to worry about my motivations for holding her. Now she was well again and worried—worried that I wouldn’t stop though I had promised her I would. Worried I would demand too much of her.
“You’re afraid I will take more than you are willing to give,” I said, stroking a strand of hair way from her face. “Don’t be, Gwendolyn. I give you my word you will not lose your virginity tonight. In fact, if it would make you feel better, I will promise to keep my sleep trousers on all night.”
That seemed to help her feel a little more relaxed.
“You promise?” she asked, looking at me hopefully.
“I do.” I kissed her cheek gently, savoring the softness of her skin…the warmth of her body…her delicate, feminine aroma. I allowed one hand to cup her shoulder and then move slowly down her side and back, stroking her as I might stroke a cat to make it purr.
Gwendolyn’s heart rate doubled and her breathing became short as I caressed the rounded curve of her luscious ass, but she didn’t exactly purr. Instead she tightened up, shifting away from me some.
“I’m cold,” she announced. “We should get under the covers.”
I shook my head.
“And miss seeing all your lovely brown skin contrasted with the white fur? No, I don’t think so. Besides, I don’t believe you are cold. We just came out of a very warm bath which heated you quite thoroughly.”
“Still, though,” she said stubbornly and shifted against me again. I could see she was nervous—extremely so. I had promised her that I wouldn’t take her virginity tonight so what could still be troubling her?
“Mon ange,” I murmured, cupping her cheek and looking into her lovely green eyes. “What is it? Why are you still so afraid? You know I would never hurt you, do you not?”
“I know.” Her eyes flickered away. “It’s not that.”
“What then?” I asked, stroking her soft skin. “What has you as nervous as a rabbit when the fox is at the door?”
She gave a soft, bubbling laugh.
“Grams would say ‘as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs’ but I guess it’s the same thing.”
“I suppose.” I lifted her chin and took her sweet, luscious mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. She tasted warm and perfect and her lips trembled under mine. I wanted to show her that I would be gentle with her tonight—that I would bring her only pleasure and no pain. Then I looked at her seriously. “But however you phrase it, I need to know why you’re still so worried. Do you fear letting me touch you?”
“Not…exactly.” She looked away evasively, biting her lip.
“Then what is it?” I coaxed. “Come, Gwendolyn tell me. I swear nothing you say could upset or surprise me.”
“Well…it’s just…”
* * * * *
Gwendolyn
I looked up at him uncertainly. For a demon of lust, he was certainly being very sweet and gentle and kind. But could I honestly tell him the real reason I was so embarrassed about him touching me? Well, other than it being a sin and incredibly dangerous territory if I didn’t want to lose half my power, I mean.
“Just tell me,” he murmured again, stroking my cheek with those long, gentle fingers. His ruby eyes burned into mine. “Tell me, mon ange.”
Abruptly, I decided to just let it go—my biggest secret, my hidden shame. It made me feel weird and wrong and different but what the Hell—he wasn’t going to let up until I spilled the beans.
I took a deep breath.
“Remember how you said you had to…wanted to…make me come tonight?”
“Of course.” His eyes were half-lidded with desire. “It will be my very great pleasure to bring you to the peak.”
“Well, it might not be as easy as you think.” I looked down at my hands, suddenly ashamed. “Because, well…I can’t come. Can’t have an orgasm, I mean. At least…at least I never have before and it’s not for lack of trying, either. I just…can’t.”
“Hmm…So you’ve never had an orgasm?” His tone was intrigued, as though I had posed an interesting problem. Well, at least he didn’t sound weirded out or non-plussed as the few—the very few—other people I’d admitted my problem to had.
“No, never.” I plucked up a little courage and looked up at him. “I mean, part of it is probably because I feel like it’s better to just avoid…anything like that. Because when you start thinking about it, you start wanting to do it and pretty soon you’re in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” he asked softly.
“You know what kind. The kind that loses you half your power and cuts your potency as a witch in half. The kind that ruins your life.” I looked down at my fingers, twisting in the white fur coverlet. “I just…don’t want to end up like Keisha.”
“Who is Keisha?” he murmured.
“My little sister.” Then I realized I was telling too much. “Never mind—I don’t want to talk about her.”
“All right. We don’t have to if you’d rather not,” he said. “So you try not to think sexual thoughts or have sexual feelings but even when you allow yourself to reach for pleasure, it eludes you?”
I gave a sad little laugh.
“Ha—that’s a nice way to put it. But yeah, I guess so.” I sighed. “I just can’t…seem to find the right way. I mean, I know that sounds ridiculous—I’m a grown-ass woman—I ought to be able to help myself. But nothing seems to work.”
“And have you spoken to anyone about it?”
I shrugged, not meeting his eyes.
“A few friends who thought I was weird. I mean, it’s awkward to bring that up in the first place and then to admit that I can’t…that I’ve never…” I shook my head. “Anyway, so that didn’t help. Then I took a human sexuality class in college and I finally got up the nerve to ask the professor about it.”
I sighed, remembering the horrible, embarrassed feeling I’d gotten when I finally stammered out my question.
“She was supposed to be this big expert,” I said. “She’d written something like twenty books on sexual expression and female sexuality.”
“And what was her advice to you?” Laish wanted to know.
I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head.
“She said to get a vibrator. Which is what I kept reading everyplace I looked for help too. But I got one.” I vividly remembered how nervous I’d been, smuggling the forbidden sex toy into Gram’s house and hiding it under my mattress.
“And did it help at all?” Laish was being really understanding about this—I couldn’t help thinking that it was easier talking to him about my problem than it had been with any of the friends I’d trusted or the wel
l-credentialed professor.
“It didn’t,” I said, with a sigh. “For one thing I kept thinking every minute that I might get caught with it. And it was so loud—I felt like everyone in a three block radius could hear me…you know, touching myself.”
My cheeks got hot as I said it and I couldn’t look at him anymore.
Laish still didn’t seem a bit perturbed.
“But did the sensations it gave you feel good? Or were you too preoccupied with your concerns about privacy to notice?”
“It was too intense,” I admitted softly. “Too much. I felt like I was being shocked with an electrical charge down there. Like someone put a live wire to my coochie.”
“Not very conducive to pleasure,” he murmured and there was amusement in his voice.
“You’re laughing at me,” I accused him. “This must seem really funny and pathetic to you—a woman my age who can’t help herself…help herself come.” My cheeks went hot saying it but it was the truth and it made me feel sad and defective all over again to admit it.
“On the contrary, mon ange, I do not find your situation funny at all. But I don’t think it’s quite the problem you make it out to be.”
“Not a problem?” I flared at him, feeling irritated. “Of course it’s a problem! I want to have what every other woman in the world has! I want to be able to feel sexual pleasure!”
“Except that you don’t,” he pointed out softly. “You don’t really want to feel it because you fear it—fear it will lead to other things. Such as the loss of your powers…or perhaps the loss of your grandmother’s good opinion.”
His words hit home and I couldn’t deny they were true.
“Maybe,” I mumbled, looking away again.
“Gwendolyn…” He cupped my cheek and turned my face to his so that I had to look at him. “I submit to you that perhaps your problem, as you call it, is more mental than physical.”
“How do you mean?” I asked, frowning.
“Think of it. You fear your sexual feelings because of the way you have been raised. Your sister dared to go against what you were taught with disastrous consequences which reinforced your fear.”
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