Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
My shriek of surprise turned immediately into a moan of intense pleasure. The sting my dream lover had given me had resulted in an inner explosion—an orgasm stronger and sharper than anything I had ever felt in my life.
It cracked through me like a lightning bolt, electrifying my whole body and making my back arch and my toes curl helplessly. It felt like every muscle in my body was spasming at once as the pleasure shot through me. At one point it felt like even my hair was coming and I started to see black spots dancing before my eyes.
And that was when I knew I wasn’t dreaming anymore. Nobody experiences Category Five orgasms in their sleep. Or nobody I’d ever heard of before, anyway.
“This…is not…not a dream,” I panted, struggling to get my breath back.
“No, of course not.” In the light from the fire, I saw the face of the Demon in the painting smiling down at me smugly. “This is your fantasy, Celia, and I’m here to fulfill it.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Get away from me!” I gasped, shoving at his broad chest as I scrambled away. I rolled off the edge of the bed and would have fallen if he hadn’t reached out one long arm and caught me by the waist.
“Take it easy, baby—breathe!” he urged, pulling me firmly back onto the bed.
“I don’t want to breathe! I want you out of here!” I pointed a trembling finger at the bedroom door.
But the Demon from the painting wasn’t going anywhere.
“Sorry, I can’t go,” he drawled, not sounding sorry at all. “I’m here until I fulfill your deepest fantasy—the one you hide deep down inside, even from yourself.”
“What? What are you talking about? And who are you?” I demanded. Which would have been good questions to ask before I let him suck my nipples and sting my clit with his tail.
Speaking of that, my clit was still tingling and throbbing—it was like my body was threatening to come again at any minute. Which I definitely did not need right now—especially since the other orgasm he’d given me had nearly made me faint with pleasure.
“I am Malik—Incubus extraordinaire at your service.” He bowed from the waist, the firelight gleaming on his curving horns and the broad, bare planes of his muscular chest. I realized suddenly he was naked.
“Hey—where are your clothes? Where’s your suit with the lacy cravat?” I said, making a gesture at my own throat to indicate the frothy lace.
“I took it off, of course.” He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling. “I thought it would be easier to fulfill your fantasy without it on.”
“Well put it back on!” I snapped. “You’re not fulfilling anything tonight.”
He sighed.
“And here I thought this assignment would be easy. You looked so eager—so hungry—lying there on the bed earlier with your thighs spread, teasing your soft little pussy just for me.”
“I was not doing…what I was doing for you,” I said stiffly. “I thought you were just a picture—just paint on canvas. I didn’t know you were actually watching me!”
“Come on, how could you not know?” he asked, sounding entirely too reasonable. “You woke me with your touch. Didn’t you feel the tingle of magic when you did it? Didn’t you see my eyes following you?”
“No, I didn’t,” I said, lying through my teeth—about the tingling, at least.
In retrospect, I could see that I should have been more concerned about it. But after living in Hidden Hollow for five years, I had more or less gotten used to magic being performed around me all the time. So feeling a tingle when I touched his portrait hadn’t worried me.
I was feeling really stupid about that right now.
“Look,” I said, glaring at him. “I’m sorry if I woke you up somehow—that certainly wasn’t my intention. But I’m going to have to ask you to leave now. I have no interest in having you fulfill any of my, er, fantasies or anything else. So please just go.”
“Sorry, I can’t. I’m tied to your bloodline.” He shrugged again—a “what can you do?” gesture that made me clench my jaw in irritation.
“What do you mean you’re tied to my bloodline?” I demanded. “Are you saying I inherited you somehow? Inherited a Demon?”
“An Incubus,” he corrected me. “And yes, that’s exactly what you did—you inherited me.”
“I’m sure my Great Aunt Gertrude never meant for me to have you,” I protested. “She just left me your picture—she didn’t know a real-life Demon lived inside it!”
“Incubus. And I think she had her suspicions.” He sounded thoughtful. “I know she was careful never to waken me fully or to set me free. I think she got so thoroughly sick of males during her disastrous marriage that she never wanted one in her life again.”
I had to admit, that did sound like Great Aunt Gertrude. But then, why had she saddled me with the Demonic portrait and its annoying inhabitant?