City of Demons (Georgina Kincaid 2.5) - Page 7

But his mouth and the fire of his skin weren’t what drove me wild. They weren’t what made me moan and arch my body up to his, pushing as much of myself forward as I could.

It was his hands.

Because everywhere they touched, they poured life into me—that beautiful, blissful silver life energy I stole each time I slept with a human. It was the glittering energy that filled the soul, the power that usually coursed into me at the end of sex and sustained my immortality.

But now, that energy was coming from the palms of his hands as he ran them over my body. He moved slowly too, dragging out that ecstatic agony. It was almost like he was massaging oil into my skin. That life covered me, saturated me, and soaked in. It was more than I’d ever gotten from a human—even the purest, noblest soul. Ten times more. Maybe a hundred. Who could tell? My body became one enormous erogenous zone. Really, there’s no way to describe that energy to anyone who hasn’t directly experienced it. It’s, well, life. The universe. The touch of God.

One of those glorious hands danced down between my thighs. His fingers slid along my flesh, slipping through my wetness. His skin still burned against mine, and coupled with that continued flow of life, I almost couldn’t handle it. I writhed under his touch, whimpering as his hands teased and taunted, promising much but not yet delivering.

I knew this wasn’t really happening, but I also knew he wouldn’t show it to me if it wasn’t a possibility. This was his bribe.

“How…” I gasped out. “How…can you do this? How can a demon have this much life…? Energy and souls…that’s only for humans and angels to deal in.”

He removed his hand so that it and his other one rested on my hips. Shifting onto his knees, he pushed into me. The pleasure and pain line blurred for me again, and it wasn’t just because of his size and hardness—both of which were considerable. Nor was it the fierceness with which he thrust away—which was also considerable. It was that fire again, the heat that coursed through a demon’s skin. It was like a flame spreading up and into me.

It hurt, yet I exulted in it. And as that fire continued to sear me, his hands stroked my br**sts and upper body with that glittering energy. It was pure delirium, cool and crisp in a way that compensated for the heat of his body. We were fire and ice.

“How can a demon have this much life?” he asked, echoing my question. He continued moving forcefully into me, each powerful stroke pushing me closer and closer to being suffocated by all that lovely life. The rapid pace appeared to take no toll on him. His dark face watched me thoughtfully, and if I squinted just right, I could barely discern horns on his head and flames in his eyes. They shimmered in and out, like a mirage. “You don’t know? Haven’t figured it out?”

Some part of my brain said if I thought hard enough, I could figure it out. But I didn’t really want to think too much just then. “No…no…”

The words came out as a moan, and I felt only a little embarrassed at my loss of control. Wasn’t I supposed to be the sex professional here? Fuck it, I decided. There was so much life energy in me now that I doubted any more could even make a difference. I was drowning in it, high on it. And I could tell by his motions that he was going to come soon. A demon exploding inside of you is like fire too, and while it hurts horribly, it’s also insanely pleasurable at the same time—so much so that it almost always triggers an orgasm in return.

I was going to come, and it was going to be good. My body was practically ready on its own, but I wanted to wait for him to finish it.

“You’re forgetting something,” he said softly. His strokes were long and controlled. Very purposeful. He was close, and I had no clue what he was talking about anymore. Fire and ice. That was all I knew.

“Forgetting…what…?”

He leaned over me, putting his face right next to mine, and I cried out as the shift in position allowed him to take me at a different, deeper angle. Fire and ice.

“The reason demons can have this much life…”

I was almost there. So close, so close. His voice was low. It was velvet on my skin.

“…is because…”

I was on the edge, ready to fall over. Fire and ice.

“…we used to be angels too.”

Fire and—

He pulled out and sat back on his heels. Suddenly, all that pleasure, all that bliss…it was gone. Bam! I was empty and aching. It was like being thrown into cold water. All ice now, and not even the good kind. No more fire. I jerked upright.

“What the f**k are you—”

I blinked and looked around. No silk-covered bed. No Clyde, even. I stood alone in the hotel room, still in front of my mirror. The dress was white again.

“Remember this,” a voice whispered through the air. “We can finish it…”

Chapter Five

I went to the party, a bit dizzy on the idea that I’d just had virtual sex with a suspected murderer. Naturally, I had had sex with actual murderers in the past…but, well, this wasn’t something I wanted to make a habit of.

Luis found me right away and handed me a drink. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. And I know that can’t be true since they stay away from these kinds of soirees.”

I shook my head and took down the drink. Appletini. A bit froofy for my tastes, but hey, it had alcohol in it. I wasn’t about to knock that after what I’d seen today.

“Long story,” I said evasively.

“Okay.” He sipped his own drink. “So, how’d you like your first day in court?”

“It’s…depressing. Nobody cares. Someone was asleep on the jury.”

“Only one?”

“Luis, I’m serious.”

“I know,” he said unhappily. “And so am I. That’s how these things work.”

I stared off across the room, absentmindedly watching a couple of demons who seemed to be…very close friends. One appeared to have an astonishingly long tongue. Like, Gene Simmons long. I looked away with a shudder.

“I realize we’re evil and all that.” I recalled Clyde’s comment about me and my nature.

“And yeah, I’m here because I gave into temptation. So is everyone, even you guys. But, well, I don’t know. I’d like to think there’s some nobility in all this.”

“There is, here and there. Some have given up and completely given into their dark sides. Some are like you, still in possession of an annoying yet adorable sense of right and wrong. Semi-good people who only made one mistake, a mistake they regret, so they still try to live with some semblance of their old selves.”

I frowned. “Are you like that? Regretting your one mistake?”

He laughed, finished the drink, and set it on a nearby table. “Oh, it’s different for us. Mortals are faced with daily temptation—as well as the uncertainty of what’s really out there in the world. Is there a God or gods? Is human life all there is before oblivion? Are you alone in the universe? I’m not saying that justifies falling, but it’s certainly easy to do. If you believe there’s no real higher calling in life, why not give into temptation? Why not take the easy way out and seize your deepest desires? Maybe damnation won’t be that bad…then, you realize it is. Some embrace it. Some, like you, hope that maybe holding on to that one spark of goodness will redeem you. Get you salvation.”

“I don’t think that,” I said obstinately.

He winked. “Don’t you, though? Somewhere, buried deep inside, is a hope that maybe things can change. Because again, mortals—or mortals turned immortals—just don’t know for sure. Now us…higher immortals…” The brief amusement faded. Darkness clouded his features.

“We know. We know the truth, what’s out there, what’s beyond life and the universe. We’ve seen divinity, seen the rapture…and we still turned away from it. It’s lost to us. It’s a fleeting dream, the kind you wake up from in the middle of the night, one that leaves you gasping and mortified because it’s only a phantom…a fading memory that’s forever denied, blocked by a wall through which there is no passage.”

A chill ran down my spine. I was used to lighthearted Luis and all-business Luis. This Luis—troubled, philosophical Luis—was frightening. I could see the longing in his eyes, the remembrance of that which he still longed for and could never have again. It was a haunted look, a look filled with things too big and too powerful for a succubus to understand.

Tags: Richelle Mead Georgina Kincaid Fantasy
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