The Music Demon - Victoria Danann Page 0,72

heard it many times.”

“And yet,” he pulled her into his body, “I only want to hear it from you. Why is that, do you think?”

Her arms went around his neck of their own accord. “And, of course, my brother and his friends were not, em…”

“Erect?” He chuckled.

“That’s right. They were no’ like this.”

“Would you like to touch?”

She blinked rapidly before creating a separation of a few inches between their bodies. Looking down, she nodded.

“Go on. You have my permission to explore this experience in any way you want.”

With a caution that might seem comical to those more experienced, she reached between them and circled the demon’s girth with her hand. She was surprised by the velvety feel and squeezed lightly, which provoked the demon to make an unusual noise. Since he made no move to stop her, she took that noise as an indication of approval and stroked the head with her thumb. That evoked a low growl.

As if guided by a collective unconscious almost as old as time, she increased pressure and pumped once tentatively.

With a grunt, Lyric slammed her body into his and crushed her mouth with a heated kiss unlike anything ventured before. When it seemed he was desperate to deepen the kiss, she opened her mouth wider to receive what he was offering. That was welcomed with a deep groan.

“Wish your clothes away, Shivaun,” he rasped into her mouth. When she hesitated, he said, “This is a divine torture, but make no mistake that it is torture. Wish your clothes away.”

With a little internal pep talk, she did just that.

He lifted her and walked toward the bed, murmuring sweet reassurances all the way.

He laid her on the bed and made her feel shy by the time he took to feast his eyes upon her and the thorough, leisurely way he enjoyed looking. When she began to curl into herself, he stopped her.

“No. In all the worlds there’s not a single thing as magnificent as you. Don’t feel ashamed.” He waved. “Look around at your creation. You’ve brought this world and me to heel. You’re as mighty as any being in the cosmos and I forbid you to be ashamed.”

Shivaun found the idea of Lyric forbidding her to be bashful funny and began to laugh softly. “You can no’ tell me how to feel, Lyric.”

His head jerked up. “You said my name.”

“I say your name often.”

“No. You don’t. Hearing my name on your lips is a treat. A gift. Something I will treasure.”

“Did no’ know it meant so much to you. So. You’re a sensitive sort of demon.”

He grinned wickedly. “In places. As you’re quickly learning.”

Pressure from his knee caused the cloudlike mattress to indent. As he prowled toward her looking more like panther than demon, she had another surge of anxiety, but it was drowned by the fascination of watching muscles ripple over his body like a seductive dance.

He stopped and lingered at every erogenous zone on the journey upward to deliver kisses, nuzzles, licks, and nudges that made her pant and tiny bites that made her giggle. She realized that he was playing her emotions like a complex piece of music, using her body as the instrument. The demon was a marvel.

Feelings bounced between intense passion and humorous delight then resolved into an unexpected and unwelcome sadness. She heard the lament in her soul as clearly as if it was said out loud. If only he could love.

Lyric liked sex well enough to become accomplished at it, but he’d never been the sort who couldn’t do without. Under the right circumstances, with the right partner, it was frequently good enough to be worthwhile, but it certainly didn’t qualify as a pursuit unto itself. He couldn’t live without music. He could live without sex.

At least that’s how he’d felt before lying with Shivaun in the pavilion created from her heart of hearts. He’d set out to copulate with her and ruin her for all other males. What a joke it was that he was the one being ruined.

He’d never experienced the nuances of sensations that he felt with Shivaun’s touch. He’d never felt desperate to be inside a female, as if life depended on it.

He trailed his lips along the ridge of her clavicle while causing her to writhe against his fingers. The sounds she made were so delicious he found himself thinking of it as music. The best kind he’d ever witnessed.

He settled between her legs and raised himself up to look in her face.

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