on his cock and bearing down a good, purposeful inch. His groan was heartfelt, bone-deep, obscenely masculine in her ears, almost enough to distract her from the inch of cock crammed so tightly in her cunt that a bead of sweat formed on her brow. She was stretched around his cock so snugly that if she merely touched her clit she would shatter into a million pieces.
‘Give me another inch,’ she whispered, enchanted by the fact that her examiner, at this point, was beyond speech, looked half out of his mind with his teeth gritted and jaw clenched, and she was further enchanted when he obeyed with a single inch instead of trying to bury himself to the hilt.
But even two inches of Marchosias and his shallow thrusts was a dangerous thing and with a dry swallow she registered the beating of black wings just beneath her skin, demon spikes longing to spring from her back, claws itching to bud from her fingers and toes, her gums aching with the pressure of teething fangs. No – she closed her eyes – no, she must hold on.
The hips below hers stilled and, when she opened her eyes, she found her haughty arch-demon watching her, concerned. ‘Too much? Are you too close? What do you need?’
To pass, she wanted to say, but she knew that wasn’t true, what she wanted more than anything else was for him to lose himself in her and then for her to chase after him into that forest of oblivion. If he had a soul, she’d want that, too.
Instead she told him to lean back, and then she spread her thighs wider, only gasping a little when he clapped a hand over the outside of each thigh and stroked her, muttering her name like a promise. With intense focus she gripped the base of his cock and jerked him as she took him a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster. So this was melting, having no direction but his flow of incoherent words, the urgent undulation of his hips against hers, no greater need than to feel him thick and hard inside her, filling her beyond full.
A string of admirably earthy curses, a series of uncontrolled thrusts and his deep shuddering release flooded her with heat.
She’d passed her test; she was now legion.
But her focus remained on the flesh joined with hers, still hard as she writhed on him reaching for her own peak.
Lost, she was lost in the desire pooling, desire bubbling, desire crippling, the wild yearning for completion. It came, slinging her over the edge in waves of contracting pleasure, and with it her wings sprang from her back with a snap, like a sail unfurled. A storm of sensation penetrated every cranny of her being until her fingers sprouted claws and her fangs lengthened to graze her lips as she shuddered out her climax.
Marchosias blinked, ran a slow hand up her thigh, eyeing her wings. ‘Well, we may need to work on that before we send you out on your own.’
She smiled, smiled because she knew what her haughty arch-demon was really saying, that he wanted her again, wanted her many times before she went anywhere. In crusty arch-demon speak, he was flirting with her.
Laura May’s Candy Man Giselle Renarde
When she got to the restaurant, there was a huge banner over the door. It read, ‘Happy 40th Birthday, Laura May!’ She very nearly turned tail and ran, but she knew Marjorie meant well. Anyway, there would be friends at this gathering she hadn’t seen in more than twenty years. Marjorie had even managed to track down people Laura May had been to high school with. She wasn’t big on parties, but it behooved her to attend one thrown in her honour.
She walked through the door to a chorus of ‘Happy birthday, Laura May!’ and even a few shouts of ‘Surprise!’, though it wasn’t a surprise party. So many faces, so many people she hadn’t seen in years. She searched them for the one she wanted desperately to see, but he wasn’t at any of the tables. Maybe Devon wasn’t coming. Last time she’d asked Marjorie, he had yet to confirm.
‘It’s great to see you,’ she heard herself telling old co-workers and friends, people who’d lived in her dorm at university. Everybody had come. Everyone but Devon.
The birthday girl got a special seat near a table that was piled up with gifts. ‘I thought you said no presents.’
‘It’s your fortieth,’ Marjorie said with a shrug. ‘People want to make it special for you. You’d do the same.’
‘That’s true,’ Laura May agreed.
She’d already celebrated with family on her actual birthday. This weekend party was strictly friends. Marjorie had rented the entire restaurant because she’d invited so many people. Thank goodness such a high percentage had RSVPed. Laura May would have felt like a total loser if nobody showed up.
‘Did you hear from Devon?’ she asked, trying to sound casual.
Marjorie must have heard the anxious quiver in her voice. ‘No, he never got back to me. Why do you care so much about Devon anyway? Got a little high school crush on him, do you?’
Laura May glanced around quickly, making sure no one from her high school was within earshot. ‘In high school I had a crush on him, sure. Who didn’t?’
‘I didn’t,’ Marjorie chuckled.
Laura May rolled her eyes. ‘We didn’t go to the same high school.’
Marjorie knocked back another drink. ‘I had a crush on my geography teacher, Mr Kazberg.’
Laura May sipped the good wine Marjorie had ordered. ‘Ahh, unrequited love.’
‘Who said mine was unrequited?’ Marjorie asked, waggling her eyebrows.
‘You’re bad.’
‘Badder than you know, kiddo.’
Shaking her head, Laura May glanced around the room. There was ephemeral music pumping through the stereo system, but she could barely hear it over her friends’ insistent chatter. She was glad they were having a good time. Who could resist drinking with old pals?
‘Do you mind if I mingle?’ Laura May asked her friend. ‘There are so many people here, and I’ve barely spoken two words to some of them.’
Marjorie raised an eyebrow. ‘The wallflower’s finally in bloom, is she?’
‘Guess so.’ In truth, she wanted to probe her high school alumni for information about the missing Devon.
With a plate of appetisers in hand, Marjorie made her way to the grown-ups who had once been teens. More than twenty years since Laura May had seen most of them. Unbelievable! There were days when Laura May didn’t feel much more than twenty. The years flew by so fast. Too fast.
‘Hey, guys. How’s it going?’ She put on her party smile and tried to be entertaining.
The women who’d once been girls squealed and hugged her, got the Happy Birthdays out of the way early so they could all reminisce about the golden years.
‘When we were teenagers, my dad used to say to me, “These are the best years of your life,” and I never believed him.’ Courtney of Kenmore High bobbed a tiny umbrella in her cocktail. ‘Now that my kids are in their teens, do you know what I’m saying? “These are the best years of your life. Don’t let them pass
