Cipher (Demonica Underworld #8) - Larissa Ione Page 0,14

time. It hadn’t even occurred to her.

Now it was on her to-do list.

Adrenaline rushed through her veins like erotic fuel as Cipher’s lips and tongue ravaged her neck. More of this. She needed much, much more of this.

Heart pounding so hard Cipher surely must have felt it against his teeth, she slid her hand between their bodies. His warm skin twitched as the backs of her fingers slid across his steel-hard abs, and his breath hitched as her thumb brushed the underside of his shaft.

Her own breath lodged in her throat. She’d never done this before. She and Dailon had been interrupted before they could consummate their love on the physical plane.

Anger at the stupid sentimental glitch roared back, and she roughly took Cipher’s cock in her palm. There was nothing to wait for. No prince in angelic armor was going to sweep her into the pillowy embrace of his wings and gently take her maidenhood.

She lived in Hell now. Gang rape or having her virginity sold to the highest bidder for use in some sort of power spell were the more likely scenarios if it ever got out that she was a virgin. She might as well make it happen on her own terms and now was as good a time as any.

Besides, it was only a matter of time before Bael forced her into his bed. Honestly, she couldn’t believe he hadn’t already.

She squeezed Cipher’s shaft, and his gasp of pleasure created an unexpected throb of need deep in her belly.

Stop it.

This was a task. A means to an end. Not a meaningful exploration of her sexuality or some crap.

Oh, but it felt so good.

She squeezed again, adding a slow pump of her fist. Cipher shuddered and rocked into her hand.

A low moan dredged up from his chest as he lifted his head from her throat. “Hurts,” he whispered.

She froze, then hastily released him. “I’m sorry—”

“No.” His big hand closed around hers and guided it back to his shaft. “Not that.” He shuddered again. “That is the only thing that feels good. The only thing in...months.”

Sadness mingled with the pain in his voice, and her heart clenched.

No. No clenching of hearts. She was doing this for a purpose.

If she gave Cipher what he wanted, maybe he’d give her what she wanted.

Information.

And, of course, an orgasm.

* * * *

Pain. There was so. Much. Pain.

Even with Flail gone, Cipher’s pain was still crippling. It was as if every cell was being alternately crushed then sliced, cycling over and over, with breaks only when he’d willingly moved closer to either Flail or Lyre. Resisting meant that someone dialed up the pain intensity.

But worse than the pain was the desire. The ball-throbbing, dick-tingling, soul-crushing desire to bury himself first in Flail, and now Lyre.

At least Lyre hadn’t betrayed him. He didn’t completely hate her. And she was hot.

He’d fucked worse.

Probably shouldn’t say that out loud. Or think on it too much. Didn’t say anything good about him, that was for sure.

Whatever. He was just glad Lyre was here instead of Flail.

How had Lyre gotten in here, anyway? He hadn’t seen the door open.

And why the fuck was he thinking about random shit when he should be concentrating on how Lyre’s hot blood circulated through his body and her warm hand pumped along his shaft, the only real heat he’d felt since he’d been dragged to Sheoul. It spread across his skin and into his muscles all over his body, and for the first time in forever, misery wasn’t the only thing he was feeling.

“Just like that,” he rasped as he thrust into her grip.

He wanted to haul her legs up around his waist and take her, right against the door. She’d let him; he could tell by the way she rocked into him, the way her breathing came fast and hard, the way the scent of her arousal wrapped around him like satin. But then she did some kind of twisty thing as she squeezed him from the base of his cock to the head...and he was done.

He threw his head back and shouted as the climax hit him, a giant, rolling wave of pleasure that, for the briefest moment, made him forget everything shitty in his life. More waves followed, weaker, just lapping at his pleasure centers as he came down.

Then someone in a nearby cell screamed, jolting him out of his bubble of bliss and reminding him where he was. Reminding him that pleasure was nothing but an illusion in