Better the Demon She Knows

Better the Demon She Knows

WARNING! 18+ content below.




His touch. His laugh. The twinkle in those haunted grey eyes.

I’ve never seen him in a state of vulnerability. Until now. Slouched over the balcony railing of that shady motel, his dark hair mussed in that utterly sexy ‘just fucked’ manner. His train of thought lay elsewhere, his posture stiff and unyielding. I tiptoe across the carpet and slip out onto the balcony, wrapping my arms around his midsection and burying my face between the blades of his shoulders. He twitches, the muscles drawn tight beneath the skin as he flexes responsively. I breathe a sigh of relief when he doesn’t pull away. Words go unspoken, the silence creeping in like a damp fog.

Moisture accumulating on the skin. Maere would never admit it, but he enjoyed our little meetings. I purposely made myself available to him despite my father’s threats. I was young and dumb and I rebelled against the laws he’d set out for his children, myself included. His skin is littered with scars, and tattoos. Hours of work punched into his flesh. I wanted my lips on every single inch of colored skin, starting at the replicated devil’s wings curled up on his back. I lay my hands upon his hips, fingers tucked just inside the waistband of his shorts, the pads touching the groove of those sex lines.

“Maere,” I whispered, resting my forehead against the vertical curvature of his spinal column. 

“Kaephir.” He whispered back. 

My whole body broke out in goose flesh, my lower lip wobbling. The way my name rolled off his tongue left me in tatters, every stitched seam unraveling until I’m completely exposed. I… loved this man. I loved him and it was complicated. Our situation was a dire one, but I refused to let someone else dictate who I could and could not love. Maere was mine. “I love you.” 





Kae. So innocent. So beautiful. My soul be damned. I wanted her for eternity. Her body melted against mine. And for a moment I thought I was dreaming. But her heart… It had a beat I could dance to. One that made my own skip occasionally. Her arms secure themselves around my waist and I’m a goner for sure. The way she touches me sets me on fire from the inside out. And it’s not just my internal temperatures that I’m talking about. I think about what last night meant for the both of us, and immediately wished I hadn’t. We’re not supposed to be together. Angels and demons.

My body goes rigid as she slithers those hands south, dipping them beneath the waistband of my shorts, tracing her fingers along the lines of my muscles. Fuck’s sake, I’m rock fucking hard. Again. She has this hold over me that keeps me stiff. I’m sure she can feel it too. Knowing she’s within touching distance. I’m throbbing. And leaking. Preseed drips into the fabric of my boxers, going to waste when it could be going down her throat.


I clenched my jaw, muttering angrily to myself. Where has my self control gone? That’s right… TO MY DICK! That rat bastard. How come HE gets to have all the fucking fun? I breathe in deep and my frame comes alive, the threaded muscles twitching beneath the taut skin. We’re standing in the same position as we had done three nights earlier. When the rain came down by the buckets. When I almost threw her out on her ass. I didn’t want this to be a permanent thing. I’ve never taken to any of my previous conquests, so why start now, right? Wrong! The bitch blindsided me when she turned up the next day, begging for my cock down her throat.

Who was I to say no to a flawlessly beautiful face. So, we fucked. And fucked. And fucked some more. Until I found myself tangled up in the covers with her, my face in her hair, inhaling her scent, and wishing she would stay. But alas, by nine that morning, she’d showered, dressed, made me breakfast – bacon, eggs, and some sourdough with real butter – and left. I wanted to hate her. But the more I thought about it, the more my cock defied me, begging me to jerk off to the thought of my hands in her hair, her plump lips wrapped around my thick girth. Damn, that woman could deep throat too. Took me right to the root of my shaft more than once.

She showers me in affection I don’t deserve. And when she whispers my name, I come alive. That feeling of security, of acceptance, of – dare I say it – love overwhelming me. I come undone. That hard exterior I’d been fronting all along shatters and I crumble, breathing hard. My body bows and she would know in that instance that I’m hers. “I know,” I exhale, trying to regain my composure. “I love you too.”

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