her courage threatened to leak out through her bare soles and dribble down between the gym mats.
‘Candidate twenty-nine, I’m waiting.’
He didn’t even know her name, just the number written in felt-tip pen on her arm. Still, what was the name of a mere hundred-year-old demoness to him?
Fear frothed just below her skin but she took a deep breath and forced her feet a step closer to his lean, taut body. She carefully avoided his gaze, focusing on his chest. Was it her imagination or was he suddenly bigger? A light buzz set up in her ears, chasing the memory of every lesson out her brain until she stared dumbfounded at the nipples punctuating his grey T-shirt. Where to start?
Unpeeling, everything starts with the unpeeling. With a flourish she tossed her pom-poms over her shoulders, her panties behind them, and shimmied out of her tight sleeveless top. Not too fast. Would a bump and grind be out of place? He was no mere human, easily impressed by jiggling flesh. She decided to skip it, unzipped her skirt and let it fall in a puddle of crimson at her feet.
A-ha, he wasn’t sneering now. In fact, his lips were slightly parted in a way she liked the look of.
Now to unpeel him.
If the exam had allowed changing to demon form she could have just shredded his T-shirt with a single swipe of her clawed hand. Instead she hooked a finger under its hem and crept her hand north, glacially slow, taking in the way his nostrils flared and the pulse jumped in his throat.
The hem reached the prow of his nipples and would go no further as his arms remained stubbornly by his sides.
She cleared her throat. ‘A little help here, please.’
He raised one dark, haughty brow. ‘Help? This is not a social working bee, candidate twenty-nine, this is an exam.’
‘Fine,’ she huffed, and stepped in, grabbed him by the nape and buried his face in her cleavage. She twitched his T-shirt over his head as his long arms flailed for balance.
He spluttered against her nipples, but when he straightened he was shirtless.
Victory over a thousand-year-old demon was sweet and she savoured it, along with the smooth, tanned landscape of his chest and abs, and the sinful groove bracketing each hip in a graceful V shape that swept low to disappear down his waistband.
He narrowed ochre eyes at her and her smirk faltered. ‘You’ll pay for that.’
She swallowed. ‘Let me guess, no sense of humour?’
‘None whatsoever. Unless it involves failing candidates.’
Ouch.
She unhooked her bra with sad hands. Every demon needed a sense of humour. What had happened to his?
Cupping her breasts she jiggled them, but failed to raise a smile.
Instead he growled at her. ‘You’re boring me. Hurry up.’
Boring him?
Swallowing a hiss, she lunged forward and fastened her mouth over one of his small brown nipples and sucked as if her life depended on it. A shudder rewarded her, but before she could savour her victory his shoulders flexed and large hands engulfed her breasts, hot palms swallowing the lower half of each globe as deft, clever fingers worked her nipples.
Aiii! A jolt of pleasure shot from nipple to cunt, as overwhelming as it was unexpected. This had never happened in class before. What was going on?
Desperate to get away from his cunning fingers she dropped to her knees. His jutting denim-clad erection gently grazed her cheek and she jerked away from it.
‘On your knees already, candidate twenty-nine? It must be my lucky day.’
His deep, hateful voice mocked her as she eyed the bulge in his jeans with resentment.
‘Eyes up,’ he commanded.
Grudgingly she looked up and was caught in his smouldering, ever so mildly contemptuous, stare.
Holding her gaze, his eyelids grew heavy as he rubbed his hand over his chest, let the same hand sink down past ribs and abdominals, sweeping lower and lower in a lazy trail that made her mouth water. With a deft movement of his fingers he undid the top button of his jeans, unzipped himself and let his cock spring free.
He dressed commando-style. Of course.
Palming his shaft, he stroked it hard, swirling his thumb over the head. A muscle jumped in his jaw and she gave voice to the whimper building in her throat. She wanted his hard, heavy shaft in her hand, no, wanted it in her mouth, wanted to feel its warm, pulsing thickness and taste its salty precome.
A wicked gleam lit his eyes as he stared her down. ‘I’m not sure you’re entirely worthy of sucking my cock. What do you think, candidate twenty-nine?’
Incapable of speech, she stared at his hand, licked her lips and almost moaned as he stepped closer to trace her lips with the head of his prick. She’d imagined sucking him off many a time, but in her dreams he begged and moaned her name rather than drilling her with an icy look that was part challenge, part disdain.
Her hand hovered small and pale above his enormous tanned thigh before settling on the furnace of muscle. The other hand she placed over his to feed his cock between her lips, opening wide to take his thickness. Her training kicked in and she ran the tip of her tongue along the underside of his shaft, savoured his harsh intake of breath as she laved the groove below the head of his prick.
He was warm, salty, silken in her mouth. Somehow she had expected him to be made of stone, as flinty as the drill-sergeant words that flew from him like shrapnel.
Fingers dug into her hair. ‘Ah, what a lovely fuck your mouth is. Take me deeper.’
Shamed by the way his compliment thrilled her, she tilted her head and let him slide deeper, freeing him only to roll her tongue around the thick, red, swollen head of his cock. His hips pumped once, then twice, involuntarily, and she stole a glance at his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted.
He was hers.
Jubilant, she slid her hand from his thigh up to the invitation of his balls, cupped his sack, fondled the hot, heavy flesh and registered his jerk, followed by a light shudder. Keeping her mouth firm on his cock, she rubbed and teased him. Elation warmed her cheeks as he came undone, his movements less controlled, more graceless with each moment. She might be the one on her knees servicing him, his social inferior in every way, but she was going to make him spurt, make him lose control, make him shudder and explode. And enjoy every moment of it.
With an oath he pulled free from her mouth and dropped to his knees beside her on the mat, his skin slapping against the vinyl as he grabbed her around the waist and pinned her with the ease of a seasoned wrestler. His other hand found her cunt with unerring accuracy and he pushed an unhurried finger inside her. Leisurely exploration was soon replaced by intent as he withdrew his thick, blunt digit with a slow and sensuous twist and then added another finger. Unable to wriggle free from his unyielding grip, she endured with panting curses as he drilled his fingers deep into her pussy with long, gliding strokes and treacherous twists, a growl of approval escaping him at the juices flowing from her and easing his
