Shadow's Seduction(59)
“There’s a vial of oil in my pocket,” Mirceo said, though Caspion’s distended cock was producing so much pre-cum they might not need it. The head brushed against Mirceo’s thigh, leaving a distinct trail of dampness.
The demon retrieved the vial and returned. “Spread your thighs wider for me.” He poured oil on his fingers, then reached between Mirceo’s legs. “Don’t be nervous.”
Mirceo glanced away with a smirk. “Wouldn’t any blushing virgin be?”
“Ah-ah. Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Give me the face you give others. I want all of you. The real you.”
Mirceo swallowed thickly. With the demon staring down at him, he felt exposed. Raw. Somehow he forced himself to hold Caspion’s gaze. Words left his lips. “Demon, I’m glad it’s you.”
“I’m going to take care of you, Mirceo. Tonight and always.” Caspion grazed his slick forefinger between Mirceo’s cheeks, scarcely making contact with that needy part of him.
Each pass of his finger, the demon applied a bit more pressure, hard enough to breach him, just barely.
Mirceo’s groan of frustration made Caspion hiss in a breath. “My greedy boy wants more?” With one hand gripping a hip to hold Mirceo steady, Caspion circled the pad of his finger.
Circling . . . circling . . . Mirceo moaned at the exquisite sensations.
Then the demon dipped inside to his second knuckle.
At last! “More, more!” So much better than a toy.
Caspion pumped his finger. “Always.” More oil. Deeper penetration. Another finger joined the first, wedging inside, stretching. “You’re going to be so tight around me.”
The demon thrust those fingers just enough to get Mirceo ready—while keeping him on the brink. For what felt like agonizing hours, he gave shallow pumps.
More oil. Deeper. More oil. Wider.
Panting, Mirceo said, “I-It feels unreal. One night you’ll have to let me fuck you too.”
Caspion nodded easily. “Of course.”
You’d give me control? “Even though you’re dominant?”
Brows drawn, he answered, “What could be more dominant than providing my mate every pleasure he covets?”
Mirceo’s chest twisted for this male. His heart felt overfull from emotion—yet without an outlet. They shared a look.
I don’t know what to say, can’t express how much I want you. This really will be forever. I’m falling for you, demon.
Caspion rasped, “I know. I know. I feel the same way.”
Yes, Mirceo’s heart was overfull—but every inch of his body felt empty, receptive to whatever the demon wanted to give him. By the time Caspion removed his fingers, Mirceo was insensible, shamelessly rolling his hips. “Pleasepleaseplease, demon.”
Caspion knelt between his legs and squirted more oil. To slather over that heavy length? Mirceo shot upright to behold his golden demon oiling himself. He was transfixed as Caspion glided a big hand over his cock—across the taut crown, the thickened base, along those prominent veins.
“Wanted you for so godsdamned long, Mirceo.” Had the demon’s horns ever been so straight and swollen? “Do you trust me not to hurt you?”
“I do. I trust you in this. I trust you in everything. I always have.”
Biceps bulging, Caspion clamped Mirceo’s hips and dragged him closer. Then he fisted his length. When the broad head tucked against Mirceo’s entrance, the demon groaned as if in anguish; Mirceo cried out, shaking from the contact.
As Caspion pressed the tip inside, he held Mirceo’s gaze. “You are mine. Forever. I’ll never let you go.” Beginning to sweat, he inched forward, until the entire oiled crown had passed Mirceo’s ring. “Ah! My mate’s so fucking tight.”
Mirceo moaned because it was so good. Better than good.
Gnashing his teeth, the demon delved farther, his girth difficult to accept. Even so, pleasure suffused Mirceo the deeper Caspion went. Mirceo’s own shaft jutted above his belly like a steel rod. He feared it would go off without a touch.
“Waited five hundred years for this.” Caspion withdrew a couple of inches and peered down, gaze riveted to where their bodies joined. If eyes could incinerate . . .
As Mirceo writhed, trying to adjust, the demon drizzled more oil. “Don’t fight me,” he bit out. “Let me in.”
When Mirceo willed himself to relax as much as he could, Caspion sank farther inside, his rigid length stretching Mirceo, forcing him to yield.
“That’s it! Vampire . . . everything I can do not to come!” His brows were drawn, his mighty chest heaving as his fingers dug into Mirceo’s hips. He was stronger, demonic, older, and he was impaling Mirceo—yet Caspion seemed overpowered. “Want deep inside your virgin ass.”