still painfully hard. I thrusted a hand into my short, messy, black hair, looking into the mirror from myself to the model I was supposed to be shooting tonight for the magazine’s upcoming lingerie spread.
Besides the near-sighted eyes— which totally autocorrected in NightDweller mode— my paranormal genes had been good to me.
I should have been concentrating on my job and getting the hell out of here as soon as possible, not fantasizing about fucking the hottest model in Katharine, North Carolina.
“Spencer.” The way she purred my name made my cock throb. I tightened my lips to hide my canines.
She was watching me in the mirror, wiggling her butt from side to side, her eyes seeming to see into me. She always seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.
“Are we going to finish this anytime tonight? I gotta get home to feed my cat.” She made another pouting face.
My vision flashed purple as I watched her butt sway from side to side.
I’d like to feed your cat. I thought, then shook myself and cleared my throat.
“Yeah, D-Delilah.” I got up and walked back over to her slowly, holding my camera in front of my crotch until I was close enough to the wrought iron foot rail of the bed to use it to hide my arousal.
She continued watching me in the mirror and wiggling her bottom. “How do you want me?” She teased before winking again.
My motherfucking cock sat up and wagged like hungry, and eager puppy. The decadence-hungry incubus was dying for a little fun.
She had to know I found her attractive.
Was she exploiting that?
I closed my eyes for a moment to calm myself. An aroused NightDweller was a lot less dangerous than an angry and aroused NightDweller.
I’d only ever went into a full-blown NightDweller rage once in my life. Luckily my cousin Cainon had been there to clean up the mess. I hadn’t see Cainon in years, so it wouldn’t do me any good to lose it now.
“Stop playing, Delilah.” I managed a short laugh, but I could feel the tension rising in my body.
She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head slightly. She watched me for a moment with a strange expression then shrugged, muttering “I’m not playing.” She turned around, crawled closer to me and drew up on her knees running a hand through her hair.
The scents of amber and vanilla blasted through my nostrils. I clenched my jaw.
She spread her knees wider on the bed and —
Motherfucker—
I had to grip the foot rail to keep from jumping over it, ripping off her underwear and burying my face into the aroma that had quickened my pulse to dangerous speeds. The sound of my own blood pumping to my crotch was deafening in my ears.
My vision was full on purple as I watched her. Her mouth was moving. I watched her lips purse around words I couldn’t hear and I imagined them pursing around my cock. I squeezed the rail tighter.
She titled her head slightly and raised a brow and I thought her lips formed words that I knew.
“W-wh-” I swallowed hard. “What did you say?” I asked, prying my hands slowly from the rail. I could feel the finger-shaped grooves I’d left in the iron.
Her eyes flicked to the rail. She looked back at me with little change in her expression. Maybe she hadn't noticed the damage to the bed rail.
“I asked were you OK, Spencer?” She leaned closer and touched her hand to mine gently.
Warmth flooded me at her touch, quickly followed by lust. For a moment, I pictured her in front of the mirror, on her hands and knees with me behind her. Breasts spilling from black lace as I pumped into her from behind.
I imagined how her hair would feel on my neck and chest as she leaned back against me and ground her ass into my crotch with pleasure.
I imagined her shuddering as I rubbed her clit while I fucked her.
My vision flashed to her letting me come inside her. Inside her mouth.
A low growl escaped me and I shook myself, snatching my hand away from hers and blinking hard to fight back the vivid fantasy.
Besides the near-sighted eyes— which totally autocorrected in NightDweller mode— my paranormal genes had been good to me.
I should have been concentrating on my job and getting the hell out of here as soon as possible, not fantasizing about fucking the hottest model in Katharine, North Carolina.
“Spencer.” The way she purred my name made my cock throb. I tightened my lips to hide my canines.
She was watching me in the mirror, wiggling her butt from side to side, her eyes seeming to see into me. She always seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.
“Are we going to finish this anytime tonight? I gotta get home to feed my cat.” She made another pouting face.
My vision flashed purple as I watched her butt sway from side to side.
I’d like to feed your cat. I thought, then shook myself and cleared my throat.
“Yeah, D-Delilah.” I got up and walked back over to her slowly, holding my camera in front of my crotch until I was close enough to the wrought iron foot rail of the bed to use it to hide my arousal.
She continued watching me in the mirror and wiggling her bottom. “How do you want me?” She teased before winking again.
My motherfucking cock sat up and wagged like hungry, and eager puppy. The decadence-hungry incubus was dying for a little fun.
She had to know I found her attractive.
Was she exploiting that?
I closed my eyes for a moment to calm myself. An aroused NightDweller was a lot less dangerous than an angry and aroused NightDweller.
I’d only ever went into a full-blown NightDweller rage once in my life. Luckily my cousin Cainon had been there to clean up the mess. I hadn’t see Cainon in years, so it wouldn’t do me any good to lose it now.
“Stop playing, Delilah.” I managed a short laugh, but I could feel the tension rising in my body.
She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head slightly. She watched me for a moment with a strange expression then shrugged, muttering “I’m not playing.” She turned around, crawled closer to me and drew up on her knees running a hand through her hair.
The scents of amber and vanilla blasted through my nostrils. I clenched my jaw.
She spread her knees wider on the bed and —
Motherfucker—
I had to grip the foot rail to keep from jumping over it, ripping off her underwear and burying my face into the aroma that had quickened my pulse to dangerous speeds. The sound of my own blood pumping to my crotch was deafening in my ears.
My vision was full on purple as I watched her. Her mouth was moving. I watched her lips purse around words I couldn’t hear and I imagined them pursing around my cock. I squeezed the rail tighter.
She titled her head slightly and raised a brow and I thought her lips formed words that I knew.
“W-wh-” I swallowed hard. “What did you say?” I asked, prying my hands slowly from the rail. I could feel the finger-shaped grooves I’d left in the iron.
Her eyes flicked to the rail. She looked back at me with little change in her expression. Maybe she hadn't noticed the damage to the bed rail.
“I asked were you OK, Spencer?” She leaned closer and touched her hand to mine gently.
Warmth flooded me at her touch, quickly followed by lust. For a moment, I pictured her in front of the mirror, on her hands and knees with me behind her. Breasts spilling from black lace as I pumped into her from behind.
I imagined how her hair would feel on my neck and chest as she leaned back against me and ground her ass into my crotch with pleasure.
I imagined her shuddering as I rubbed her clit while I fucked her.
My vision flashed to her letting me come inside her. Inside her mouth.
A low growl escaped me and I shook myself, snatching my hand away from hers and blinking hard to fight back the vivid fantasy.
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