Neon Blue by E Frost (best big ereader .TXT) 📕

dead bitch used me to make her irresistible. Steppin’ stones to the power she wanted.”

“She did?” My heart aches. Oh, Ro, what happened to you?

“Don’t try to analyze it, sweet meat,” the demon says, stroking wisps of hair back from my face. “You won’t ever understand her. You’re wired a different way.”

I look up at him uncertainly as he takes off my bra. “I am?”

“Yeah.” He pulls his shirt off over his head. I know he’s not really trying to be seductive, but seeing all that golden skin exposed, the hard muscles of his arms and chest working as he moves, makes my mouth go dry. I lick my lips. His dark eyes track my movement and he chuckles. He gathers me to him, lets my bare skin find his. Brushes his mouth across mine, the promise of a kiss. “Not yet. First we gotta get you ready.”

I nod. “I know how to prepare for ritual magic.” I slide out of his arms to collect the wintergreen scrub. Behind me, the wet rush of the shower begins. The rustle of the shower curtain. A sigh that seems to rumble up from the bowels of the Earth.

I smile to myself. He does like the shower.

I follow him in. He’s standing under the spray, head thrown back, eyes closed. The way he was the day I saw him through the walls. Was that only two days ago? It’s got to be longer. And I thought it couldn’t be any sexier, but I was wrong. It’s even more seductive when he’s right in front of me. Water sheets over his body, wet rivulets tracing the muscles of his chest and belly, dripping off his dreadlocks. He’s partially erect, engorged but not standing to attention yet. I hesitate for a moment before touching him.

“Don’t be shy, sweetness.” Without opening his eyes, he guides my hand to his groin.

I trail my fingers down the line of dark hair on his lower belly. His stomach muscles clench at my touch and I watch them with fascination. He rocks his hips forward, brushing his tip across my thighs. My breathing suddenly sounds loud over the pounding of the shower.

He chuckles. “Don’t stop.”

I almost pull my hand away, but when I glance up at his face, into his eyes as he opens them, there’s such delight there. Real delight. Not wickedness. Not some new form of torment. He’s enjoying this. Just for its own sake. I let my fingers drift lower, through his wet curls, down his shaft, which pulses at my touch.

“Mmm, now this is the way it should be. Fuck of a lot nicer than bein’ doused with cold water and rubbed dry with a stinkin’ fleece.” He catches my hand and draws me close, into the spray. He looks down at me, his eyes glowing so brightly they cast shadows into the corners of the tub. Kisses me, and before his mouth even touches mine, I know this is going to be a hungry kiss. He eats at my mouth, laps at my tongue. His hands slide over my ass. He pulls me tight against him.

I put my arm around his neck, melt into his hot kisses. He takes the tub of wintergreen scrub from me just before I drop it. I lose track of everything when he kisses me like this.

His chuckle sounds warm and dark inside my mind. I feel his arms work where he has them around me. Hear the scrape of the lid as he opens the scrub. He smoothes a cool, gritty handful down my spine and I shiver against him. He shifts against me, a sinuous undulation, so his chest rubs my breasts. Then he pulls me tight against him and envelops me again in all that hot, wet skin.

He rubs the scrub all over my back, then rubs it all off again, leaving my skin tingling. When he opens a space between us to smooth the scrub over my breasts, I have to brace myself against the back wall of the shower to keep from falling. My legs are trembling so badly they’re not going to hold me up without help. He slides a finger along my labia when he rubs the scrub between my thighs. Finds my body’s aching response. Kisses me again so hard and so hot I’m amazed we don’t combust.

He lifts me, pushes my back against the shower wall. His hands guide my legs around his hips and I have a moment to wrap my arms around his neck before he pushes into me, thick and full and slippery with something that isn’t water. Power sheets over my skin. Slides inside me. I pull my head back enough look into his face. His eyes have incandesced. The air above his head shimmers. The huge black horns sprout from his forehead, grow towards the ceiling, recurving like bull’s horns.

I grip his shoulders. Seeing him go demon when he’s inside me is a little scary. But sort of exciting, too, and my body tightens around him.

He tilts his head back. Squeezes my hips. Wedges himself deeper inside me. “Mmm.”

I try to respond but coherent thought is fading fast, particularly as he rolls his hips, circling himself inside me and setting fire to the ring of nerves encasing him. I writhe, caught between the hardness of his chest and the unyielding wall. The wintergreen scrub rolls grittily between our skins, filling the shower with its good smell, but the abrasion’s a little too much, and I reach between us to wipe it off. He brushes my hand away and does it himself, making each motion a seduction. Stroking me, tickling me, kneading my breasts. His fingers trail blue sparks over my skin. And all the while, he rolls his hips between my thighs, burying himself in me over and over.

“Oh, God, Jou . . .”

You ready, sweetness? A firm, hot wetness flicks over my clitoris and I shudder. He’s going to lick me into orgasm again. I clutch at him,