Someone or something rapped imperiously at his door.
What the fuck? All Demons of his acquaintance sent a mental request first. A very polite request, since all were well aware of the punishment he'd mete out for daring otherwise. Only Naamah, so supremely confident of her appeal, shimmered in without a by-your-leave. And then, only when she was in heat and desperate to get laid.
Rezon initiated a furtive surface probe, easing it through the protective wards he'd laid upon his apartment. The being outside was heavily shielded but seemed benign enough. And as she was female, Rez could easily charm the panties off her, no matter what her true purpose for turning up at his doorstep might prove to be. Curiosity piqued, he sauntered toward the door and jerked it open.
The suave greeting he'd devised died unspoken.
Sea-green eyes gazed up at him. Those eyes were soul-weary and marred by anguish but glorious nonetheless. The burnished red-gold of her hair framed her delicate face like a halo. Her porcelain-pale skin seemed to gleam, beckoning him to touch, teasing him with the promise of silky softness. In human male terms she was a walking wet dream. She was his dream.
"Leisa?" Lucifer's hairy balls. How the Hell had she found his lair?
"Rezon." Her voice swirled about him, raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck and caressing his bare skin like a lover's warm breath.
He sagged against the doorframe. Did she know? How could she possibly--
"May I come in?"
Rez could only nod. And gaze spellbound as she undulated past him, the six-inch stiletto heels of her thigh-high boots leaving half-moon-shaped depressions in his parquet flooring.
She lowered herself onto one of the white leather settees. The strapless bodice of her black vinyl mini-dress strained against her breasts as she took a deep breath and smiled at him. If Rez believed in miracles, he might have declared it miraculous her breasts didn't pop out of her bodice altogether. The tight skirt rode up her smooth white thighs, giving him a magnificent view of her crotch. And the fact she wore no panties.
"Join me." She patted the cushion next to her.
He finally managed to get his shit together enough to form actual words. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Leisa?"
"Mmm. Pleasure. You must have read my mind." She pursed her lips and slowly inserted her forefinger, licking and sucking it like a particularly delicious candy, daring him to pounce and have his dreadfully wicked way with her. "I'm soooooo horny."
Hellfire! This was playing out exactly like one of his x-rated fantasies. He uttered a strangled gasp. His cock rose to the occasion even as his rational brain struggled to make sense of the whole impossible scenario.
Leisa extracted her finger from her mouth to rest it on her slick lower lip and pout, peering up at him in an endearing fashion. "Why are you so afraid of me, Rez?"
"I'm not afraid of you."
"Liar." She settled back against the cushions, reclining full length and turning on her side in a hip-jutting pose worthy of a Playboy Bunny. "It's just sex, Rez, the giving and receiving of mutual pleasure--a great deal of mutual pleasure if the size of that bulge in your pants is anything to go by. What's the problem? Don't I turn you on anymore?" She smiled with a flirtatious quirking of her lovely lips. Her gaze flicked to the huge mirror he'd fixed to his wall. "Or have the hours I've spent performing for you been a waste of my time?"
She knew he'd been watching her, invading her privacy. Lusting after her. And all this time she'd been playacting for him, her audience of one. The very idea turned him on even more. His cock twitched. He smothered an agonized groan.
Leisa opened her arms to him, openly inviting. When her lips curved in a sweetly seductive smile, what was left of his heart shredded.
His cock hardened still more, rubbing uncomfortably against the zipper of his pants. He fought the impulse to grab her and stick his hand up that tight little skirt and squeeze her heart-shaped ass. He wanted to yank down that bodice, lave and suck at the pale mounds of her breasts, lick his way down her belly. He wanted to throw her upon his white shag pile rug and fuck her till she begged for mercy.
"Rez?" Her voice had a little breathy catch to it and her avaricious gaze dropped to fix on the huge bulge of his erect cock. The tip of her tongue moistened her lips and an expression of pure longing darkened her eyes.
She wanted him bad.
Despite the considerable risks, the urge to give her what she wanted pulsed beneath his skin, thickened his erection to painful proportions. Why not fuck her? It would certainly fulfill every single one of his fantasies about her. And then some.
Her allure consumed him and would not be denied. He lunged toward her, pressing her down against the soft leather of the settee, molding the hard aching length of his body to her softer welcoming curves.
She reached down between them, expertly dealing with the fly of his trousers, shoving her hand into the opening, reaching for him.
He gazed down at her and....
The unholy devilish glee in her eyes sat so awkwardly on her angelic face that he paused, lips poised above hers, body thrumming with the need to thrust into hers and claim her. Suspicion pierced his besotted brain, shrieking an urgent warning. He considered her through narrowed eyes as comprehension cleared the last vestiges of sexual thrall.
Her triumphant smile cracked, slid from her face, and became a beseeching plea.
His nostrils flared as he inhaled a deep breath, testing the air. "Clever puss," he murmured against her lips before rolling off her and retreating to the sanctuary of a chair. He waved his hand to purge the heady aroma of she-Demon on heat scenting the room. "You nearly had me going, Naamah."
She huffed out a disgruntled breath and sat up, smoothing her hair. "What gave me away?"
He raked her with his heated gaze. Sneered. "Only everything." Damned if he'd admit she'd nearly had him right where she wanted him.
She snarled, baring delicate fangs.
He sensed sexual frustration thrumming through her veins, the will it took for her to fix a human form and not revert. If he'd not been so irritated by her blatant attempt at manipulation, he might have blurred his hard-on and psychically drained her lust. Instead he slumped down further in his chair, toyed with the open neck of his shirt and deliberately stretched out his legs. Widely. All the better for you to see what I refuse to give you, my dear.
"I'm not going to fuck you, Naamah," he snarled. "Not even if you do look like her. Find someone else to play with."
"Fine!" She ran her long black fingernails across the settee, leaving smoking scorch marks on the fine-grained white leather. In a flash she resumed her preferred human form, a form so blindingly beautiful it'd once made his fangs ache. Now it left him unmoved. Been there, done that. Too many times to count.
"Your loss," she purred, trying for nonchalance.
Pity the slight question he detected in her voice ruined the effect.
Rez sighed. "I do wish you wouldn't take out your bad temper on my furniture."
She hissed at him, envy-green eyes filled with fury. "Fuck you!"
"Why are you so interested in that slutty little human bitch when you could have me? I've pleasured thousands of men."
A tiny frown creased her forehead as she took mental stock of her conquests. "Tens of thousands, then. I was being modest." She launched herself off the settee. "I never thought I'd say this, Rez, but you're becoming a serious bore." She stalked across the living room, hips swaying provocatively, boot-heels grinding into his floor with each step.
At the door of his apartment she paused to adjust her clothing, tugging the bodice up and the skirt down so it actually covered her butt cheeks. Just barely. She struck a pose and tossed her head, her hair fanning out behind her like a velvety pelt. She was gorgeous and she knew it. "I'm sure Azra will get a kick out of entertaining me," she purred.
She was no true match for him. Rez had no true match--hadn't for thousands of years. "I'm sure Azra will be delighted to mark you with his scent. Just watch he doesn't try to cock his leg and piss all over you like the dog he is."
He truly regretted the hurt he saw in her eyes. Before he could make amends she shrieked, the volume and pitch of the sustained note keyed to shatter all his crystal glasses. With a curl of her lips and a flash of malodorous bottle-green smoke, Naamah vanished.
Rez coughed, waving his hand to dispel the fouled air. He contemplated his ruined settee and glass-sprinkled kitchen, thinking he'd got off extremely lightly. The last time he'd pissed Naamah off he'd had to redecorate his entire apartment.
He snorted. He was a complete dickhead. Leisa would never have stooped to such a slutty outfit. He should have known immediately that--
His gaze danced over the mirror. A jagged crack ran right down the middle. His lips thinned. Shit. More fool him for taunting Naamah. Felinoid Demons were known to be vengeful creatures and she had elevated vengeance to an art form. Now he'd have to spend his evening creating and be-spelling a new mirror before he could indulge in his unhealthy obsession.
His shoulders sagged. Despite his prodigious will, despite knowing he was teetering on the edge of an abyss that might well ultimately lead to his doom, Rez knew he would indulge.
He would watch Leisa in the mirror again.
And again. And again....