Nyx 1 - The Curse (Mafia BDSM Romance)

TEASER

Xoxo Nyx

Lilith! Mother of all Infernal Biscuits!

First a Vampire, then a Viking, now a bloody Incubus? The kind of man that with one wink can send hearts aflutter and panties flying?!

Is everyone in this city some kind of pinup out of supernatural hunks r us magazine?

“Don’t make me say it again, Pet.” The warning is rich, strict and scintillating as the face and body it’s attached to. Making my feet move without my brain’s permission to a creature of myth and legends. The dark haired and bright-eyed pin up looks stressed.

Tough day at the office. Still wearing an open vest, crisp button down and shiny dress shoes crossed in the casual lean. I swear this man just had to practice the pose to look that yummy doing something so casual.

His cat eyes don’t seem to move, but I feel like the other worldly being is taking me in. Circling ice lazily in the tumbler filled with what I’m sure is not sweet tea by the color of it. My eyes can’t stop exploring any more than my hands remember to grab the package I’m supposed to be delivering to him.

The very top button of his tailored shirt is open and the cuffs of either sleeve pushed rather than rolled up his muscular forearms. Wisps and teases of ink, hint at the very edges, making the already dangerously attractive man, heart stopping.

I can’t tell if I’m looking at the demi god breathed to life like a living work of art or a tree I’d like to climb after so long without physical interaction. My wide eyes trailing every aspect like they’re searing it into my memory as the toe-curling sensation of his full attention has me needing to change my pants.

“P..pa.....” I try and fail to say the same professional greeting I’d given to the door man, remembering and fumbling with the over the shoulder carrier bag.

“I think you have a little something on your chin, pet....” Without warning, the Incubus’ large and calloused thumb reaches up brushing my chin while the knuckles of his fingers stroke my throat, sparking those delicate and warm sensations to a full-body shiver.

My head tilts fully back, opening in wanton invitation for the hold of his fingers around my neck. Hypnotized by the face that’s stealing as much of my breath as the dominant grip. Chin straps are a definite weakness, and he’s got one in that perfect chocolate shade speckled with gold and red.

That doesn’t even cover the tan of his skin going against what have to be undiscovered gems mirroring the tides of the Caribbean. Lined in thick lashes, with his top-heavy bow parting in the promise that makes even more heat drip and slip from my center.

“At least you will when I’m done with these pouty little lips.” It’s a purr that sends every drop of blood left in my brain to my soaking nether bits, and I swear the sex demon knows it, by the predatory gleam in his eyes.

Looking over me like a snack, that mouth of his, tsks. “Talking out of turn,” his voice drops into an octave I can’t describe. The smooth and rich baritone is even more delicious than the silkiest chocolate, when the Italian’s thumb snaps my lower lip, adding to the sensations zipping through my system.

I’m rocked and shocked and raging fire engine red, jumping back. I don’t have time to consider escape because the second I’m out of his grasp……..

The one that practically stole my consciousness…..

“I didn’t tell you to move,” without taking a step, the warning growl is all I get before the Incubus is towering over me, and I’m suddenly spun with him binding my wrists at the small of my back.

Before I can yelp or process the too fast motion, a large, hot hand comes down in a stinging strike on my right back cheek. I mean to scream, but it comes out as a whimper with my inability to process the wild mix of shame, indignity, and confusion with my cotton boy short panties no better than a burst water pipe failing to contain the lust his power and presence flood my lower regions with.

“Be a good girl for Papa. Yes?” His voice is right on the shell of my ear. So close that I can feel the rumble of in satisfaction as I wiggle against him. Praying that the friction of my slick thighs will ease the still echoing pulse I can’t process, let alone dignify, with the hard and harsh slap on my other cheek.

That black clad knee of his slipping between mine to stop the only prayer I have to get my wits back, while that hand descends again, bringing a pathetic little mew of shock in my head. Easily mistaken for a moan of absolute rapture aloud.

“You’re already passed three strikes in five seconds, baby girl,” Asmodeus informs me in that tone that makes it impossible to breathe anything but his ridiculously good smelling cologne.

No ordinary Incubus could have me halfway to an orgasm with a voice adjustment. So logically, this man must be the Prince and Master of all sexual entities.

Releasing my wrists only to grip my throat, collaring me to whatever this madness is. The hold is so different, still as terrifying as it was, but in an all-consuming and evocative way. There is no excuse for this other than demon ecstasy pills crushed and injected to the air I’m breathing.

I gulp into his palm and get another pleasureful sound from the demon who just spanked me, and is now teasing me with the thick thigh so close to the spot I need it with my back to his chest. Melting my resistance with his tongue traveling the lobe of my ear, and his words a triple threat that makes my knees buckle.

“No matter how hungry your little pussy is, no part of your little body is going to be able to take the punishment if you keep it up.” Even in the whisper, his voice is as deep as the suck he makes on the fragile sweet spot he’s found. Letting the exhale of his nose into the hollow of my ear shoot through me like lighting.

My free hands go to grip the one he has around my throat. I can feel my nipples hardening, and straining for attention as much as the treacherous v all but riding his thigh while my backside posts to the monster pulsing on it.

I will be having a serious conversation with all my humming holes after this. No amount of time without sex can justify the fact my lady bits are begging for a stranger. A client! I do see to my needs regularly, and am utterly grief stricken that my cheeks are hopping to the hand soothing the sting it just laid.

Worse, I’m angry, downright mortified that those fingers are there rather than the hornets nest on the other side screaming for them. With a gasp and minor grip, I try to at least verbally protest against my wayward vagina’s wishes.

“I...nnn” Another harder and even more exotic wack comes down, lighting up my whole backside, shooting right into my clit as if they are connected. My knees dip further, rubbing the pulsing gem on the taut muscle of his thigh, and no feigning that sound as anything other than a wanton moan.

I struggle to get out the rejection when he withdraws the hard surface I needed. Only my brain seems to process that it’s a good thing, while the rest weeps to get any part of him I can.

“Yes, Papa.” The answer still being growled into my sensitive ear, making my jaw shiver and my eyes roll back with the intentional grind of his hips rather than another rub of his hand or delicious spank my poor brain can’t fathom withstanding.

The pressure of his palm around my throat increases, and I’m more aware of my pumping chest. Drunk and dumb with the hold limiting my air and still stoking the bizarre hormonal firestorm in my center.

“B..bu..butt,” I pant into that gentle vice grip, and swear he knows I’m all but creaming as a new reign of spanks come in spurts that I wish were his hips, and the thing I felt too well earlier plowing me instead of just his hand.

Each new brutal slap rides that line of pleasure and pain on a roller coaster of lust that makes as much sense as a drunken horse running into a burning stable.

“Keep talking back, Kitten....” It’s an even deeper hiss against my other ear as his masterful long fingers clench my hair, positioning my neck for him to suck and nip a spot I didn’t know existed while the hold on my throat is released for his fingers to slide past my racking chest and into the band of my pants. “And I really am going to stuff those naughty little lips instead of this sopping wet mess begging me to fuck it.......”