Michele Hauf - Playing with Fire

Parish giggled at my faux pas, and I could but shake my head at how out of my senses this vampiress made me. Me. The demon of hellfire, the Flaming One. It was as if wherever she went, I felt compelled to follow, whether or not I’d gain the stolen device. I simply wanted to be near her. Had the spell worked after all?

This was going to be a long night.

There was no way the demon would leave with ritrovatore d’anime in his hand. I’d been planning this heist for weeks, and had succeeded thanks to a little reconnaissance help from my tribe members who wanted only the best for me and my mortal father. Now, if the fire demon would get out of my way, I could hop a plane for Venice.

But the distraction of his insanely muscled body and those eyes that couldn’t seem to do anything but smolder at me, made me wonder if a little focused seduction wouldn’t go a long way in getting the demon on my side. A smear of black blood had dried above the leather and silver choker. Apparently the submission spell had not taken. Though he was following me around like a puppy dog. Hmm… No, I didn’t sense unconditional abandon on his part or even a smidgen of undying worship.

But he wasn’t as staunch as he liked to think. I knew I couldn’t physically defeat him, so I’d have to dig deeper into my wiles.

Opening the dresser drawer, I dropped the device onto a stack of silk panties and closed it. A flick of my finger and a whispered, “Claustro” restored the lock spell to the drawer.

Before Cinder could pull himself up to sit, I leaned over him, on the bed, and pulled open his button-up shirt with a daring rip. Mmm, crisp white cotton against deeply tanned flesh. I loved the white-collar corporate raider look on a man who could literally toss flames through the air. And his pants were midnight-black. Oh, baby, what a sexy combination.

“What the—?”

“There’s a handsome man lying on my bed,” I cooed. “Wouldn’t want to let this opportunity pass. Mercy, that is more than a six-pack. I didn’t know they made demons so sturdy.”

“I was forged Beneath. Of course I’m—”

I tongued his nipple, and he hissed with pleasure. “You won’t start on fire if I do this, will you?”

The whole fiery hands thing had freaked me, but I figured it’s because he was a fire demon. I didn’t have a fire extinguisher nearby, so I hoped he could keep his cool.

“Parish,” he rasped. “Not wise.”

“Maybe I should keep a bucket of cold water by the bed?”

“No. Won’t flame.”

I licked down his abs to his stomach. Oh hell, no belly button. What the heck?

“Beelzebub and all the demons in Beneath, what are you up to?”

I maintained seduction mode, but only by not looking at his smooth belly. “Up to? Only your stomach,” I said, then licked a trail higher to a hard pectoral. “Now I’m at your chest. A little higher?”

He gripped the back of my hair tightly, which pulled my tongue off his skin, but I could work with his angry vibe, and bracketed my knees around his hips.

I hadn’t realized demons could look so physically different from other paranormals. If he didn’t have a belly button, then he may not have a birth mother. I could buy into that. Corporeal demons were summoned from all sorts of nasty, or so I suspected.

“Your spell didn’t work,” he said through a clenched jaw, “so now you think you can distract me?”

“I have been known to distract.” Though it was much tougher going the more I thought about his unholy origins. Tossing my head to the side slid my long hair over his bare chest.

He hissed again in pleasure. “I’ll call your bluff. Let’s do this.”

Flipped around, I soared onto my back and landed the pillows with a cushy pouf. The demon crawled over me, his fingers sneaking up under my top. I knew he would get what he wanted—what we both wanted—before the night was over, and what I wanted was a distracted demon.

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