Angie Fox - ADS 01 - The Accidental Demon Slayer

“If you can still put a sentence together, I’m doing something wrong,” he said, yanking off his black T-shirt with one hand. “Maybe this’ll help.”

If there’s ever a time for a man to exceed all expectations, it’s in bed.

I knew Dimitri was stacked, but—yee, hee lucky me—he had the chest of a Greek god. I ran my fingers over his olive skin. Mmm…his nipples were particularly dark, and rigid. I grazed them with the barest, teasing touch until they stood at attention. Hmm. And hello, abs. The man could have been an underwear model. I let my fingers curl into the black hair that ran down his lower stomach and disappeared under the waistband of his jeans.

He flicked his eyes up to mine, and his lips curled into a wicked smile. “Are you done fondling me?”

“Not by half.” I scraped one of his nipples between my teeth and was rewarded when he gasped and about doubled over. Told him not to mess with me. He ran his fingers through my hair as I teased each nipple in turn, rolling them in my mouth.

“My turn,” he gasped, gripping my head and plastering me with a hot, demanding kiss. He was all tongue and teeth. He stroked and demanded until my entire body threatened to implode. I squeezed my thighs together. If he could make me wet and aching without even touching down there, what would happen if…?

He drew a sharp breath as I shifted my body to bring him in line with the part of me that screamed for his touch. Eureka! He felt rock hard, amazing. It had been way too long.

His mouth grazed the thin material over my breast. God, who knew a white button-down could feel so good? I threw my head back, brimming with pure rapture.

“Watch me, Lizzie,” he said, his lips hovering over me.

I stared at him, unable to speak, as he slowly started to unfasten each white button on my blouse. It felt like huge, honking bottle rockets were going off at the juncture between my thighs.

“Oh please,” I croaked, wild with anticipation.

Dimitri chuckled. He drew back my bra with his thumbs. He caught his breath and his look of wonder brought hot tears to the backs of my eyes. He slowly lowered his mouth, his eyes fixed on mine as he took one screaming, begging nipple between his teeth. “Oh thank God!” I nearly exploded.

I wanted him. Now. Naked against me.

Which meant, oh geez, “Dimitri,” I panted. I clutched his head, scooted that awful inch away from him. “We have to stop.”

“Are you trying to kill me?” he gasped against my breasts.

“Of course not,” I said, staring at the ceiling, trying to get a grip. “I may have wanted to maim you a few times, but that’s in the past.”

As far as our future together? Well, I didn’t know. And there was the problem. As much as I liked to pretend I could have a night of blazing hot sex with no consequences, I wasn’t the type. Damn, I hated being responsible.

“We don’t need to stop,” he murmured, “Stopping is bad.” His lips found my other nipple. Another wave of pleasure seized me, sending spirals of heat through me until I was ready to surrender.

I knew he wasn’t just talking about tonight. Somewhere along the line, he’d wound himself into my heart—for better or worse. There was no turning back now, no getting him out of my system. I wanted Dimitri with me. I wanted this.

Think. Stop and think .

I curled my fingers into the bedsheets to keep them from finding his beautiful butt. I was usually more rational. I decided how far to go before he, oh geez, his hands moved to my thighs and I nearly passed out from anticipation. I didn’t plan this. But I could touch him a little, right? My hands wandered down his sides. It was like I hadn’t had chocolate cake in a year and I couldn’t stop with one bite. Only it had been more like two years and he tasted better than super-double-fudge icing and it would be so easy to slide my hand under the waistband of his Levi’s 501s.

He ground his mouth against mine and I gave myself up to the sensation. Ribbons of electricity wound through me.

“Are we stopping?” he whispered against my lips. “I need to know. Now.”

We both inhaled sharply as I slid my fingertips under the waistband of his jeans. His skin was super-heated, his breath jerky. It wasn’t fair. I had to decide once and for all. I touched the firm flesh of his lower stomach, felt the hair curl under my fingertips, knew if I moved a little more…

“No.” I slid my fingers beneath his silk boxers. “We’re not stopping tonight.”

“Hold still,” I told him, as I explored rough hair and mmm velvety skin, practically thrumming with anticipation.

“Impossible. To do. When you—ahhhh!”

I slipped my fingers over his enormous length. His cock leaped against his jeans, begging for release. I ran a finger over his tip, already slick and ready.

He moved against my hand. “You want to play?” He yanked my shirt the rest of the way open, sending buttons flying.

“You bonehead! That was my only—”

“I’ll buy you another one,” he said, yanking down his Levi’s.

I wriggled out of my khakis before Dimitri decided to shred them. They joined his jeans on the floor, and his boxers. Woo-hoo! He was hard, ready and giving me a standing ovation.

Nude, he was breathtaking…rock-solid legs, narrow hips and shoulders that could haul a truck. He wasted no time stradling me, his hands capturing my wrists above my head, his erection pressed firmly into my panties.

“Ahh, you and me, Lizzie,” he said, blazing a slow trail of kisses across my collarbone, “we belong together.”

“You sound like a Hallmark card,” I said, wriggling against him. I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to feel.

“We didn’t plan it,” he said, finding the sweet spot at the base of my neck, “but there’s no sense denying it.”

Oh, yes there is. I tried to tell him point-blank, but it came out more like, “Oh fargleee yeeees!” In my defense, he’d picked that moment to start rocking back and forth over my most sensitive parts.

I had no room for a handsome Greek protector in my life, once we killed Vald that is. I couldn’t see Dimitri fitting into my old life back in Atlanta. He wasn’t the type to argue politics with Cliff, or help run the Happy Hands Preschool picnic. This had to be a one-shot deal. Wham, bam, thank you mister “Zowww!” His tongue found the ultrasensitive nook behind my ear.

“You,” he nipped lower. “Belong with me.” Before I could answer, his fingers found the edge of my drenched panties. No fair.

“My people, we know these things,” he whispered.

His people? Sure, his people. Whatever. Oh God, if only he’d move his fingers an inch to the left. A half inch. A centimeter. Anything. He ran his fingers up and down the edge of my panties, waiting. I tipped my hips up to meet his hand. “Less think-y. More kiss-y.”

“You know you’re mine.”

“Whatever you say.” I couldn’t believe I was actually about to have sex with my studly protector. And his fingers, oh his fingers. He was so close! He hooked a thumb under the edge of my panties and kept it there, no matter what I did.

Yes, yes. I get it. I’m yours .

This was cruel and unusual punishment. “What am I going to have to do to get you to cut the chatter?”

He ripped off my panties and shimmied down my body.

He ran his hands up the insides of my thighs and spread my legs wide. “Beautiful,” he said before I felt his tongue dip inside me.

I nearly lurched off the bed. His tongue felt hot, branding me from the inside out. My hips—the traitors—thrust up on their own.

“Patience,” he chastised me, before delivering a single, agonizingly slow lick.