Free Livvy's Devil Dom by Raven McAllan Page A

manage not to stain his jeans
with his pre-cum. She made him feel like a randy teenager with no control over
his hormones.
    "Now, tell me.
How turned on are you? Is your pussy on fire, does your clit throb?"
    "Oh, shit, Sael,
more than that. I'm wet and wanting. I need to come. I want to come. Please,
Sir."
    She was almost
crying. Yes, I've made her feel. Sael felt like punching the air. They'd
make it. The sexy way she breathed “Sir” was the perfect addition.
    "Okay, come for
me. Now, hard and fast. Scream as you do. Loudly, let
the world know."
    She did. Loudly. Was there ever a noise so sweet?

Chapter Eight
     
    Before they set off, Sael loved her as if it were the last time. Nothing different, nothing O.T.T. as she privately called it, just
long, hot, lingering lovemaking. Afterward, she cried. It all seemed so
final. He understood, and simply cuddled her into him until she stopped.
    "Ah, Livvy love.
It isn't too late to change your mind, you know. I wouldn't blame you."
    "You'd have trouble
blaming me if you'd snuffed it. Idiot." She didn't
even think it through, before she bit him. A neat,
no-skin-breaking nip. His skin was hotter than she'd ever felt before.
Almost to the point Livvy wondered if she'd have a scorch mark on her face.
    Her touch brought his
fangs out, and his tail swished in an arc. To her surprise, a neat but vicious
set of horns appeared on either side of his head. Shiny and dark, they made her
tremble. It wasn't pure fear, Livvy noticed, but tempered with excitement.
    "You bring out
my Devil Within. In a good way. You complete me. And
it saves me explaining that these"—he touched his horns—"will
appear."
    Livvy stared. Then,
as a credit to her own temerity, ran her fingers over
them. Velvet, rock hard velvet.
    "What do you do
with them?" she asked.
    He'd shown her—almost.
His head dipped toward her pussy. Then he stopped and rubbed one velvet tip
over her clit.
    "Show me." She
stared up at him and hoped the trust and interest she had were obvious in her
expression. "Show me what you use them for. I'm guessing it’s not for
hoopla or quoits."
    Sael sniggered.
"Not unless your kink goes that way. I er, well…" His voice trailed
off. Livvy rolled her eyes.
    "Argh
for goodness’ sake. Do I get out the vibrator, or do I get a horn? Though I guess it
doesn't vibrate I bet it's good."
    "You reckon? Let
me show you." His voice was gravelly, with added heat. "Ah now, pet,
feel the heat." He got up onto his knees, lifted her legs to stretch out
each side of him and bent his head. The fine, short, and curly hairs tickled
her skin, and Livvy jumped. It didn't tickle, exactly, but it did heighten her
arousal. Then Sael stroked her clit with the tip and let it slide over her soft
skin toward the entrance to her channel. Livvy wriggled and gasped as a wave of
fire swept through her.
    "It's hot and
heat, and it throbs ." She stopped
moving as he edged the horn oh so gently inside her. Her muscles tensed, and he
paled. Did he think she might say red, or even worse, crumble? There was no
chance. She'd got this far, and Livvy didn't intention to renege.
    She began a tiny
clench and release move, over and over again. "I want more."
    "Dammit, do you
know how bloody difficult it is not to thrust, take, and force the pace?" He
grunted the words. "You know the expression to the hilt?"
    Why was he talking
about stupid expressions and not filling her to the hilt? Ah…
    "Yeah,
so? Do it then."
    He grinned. "Did
you know the opposite end to the tip of a Devil's horn is called the
hilt?" Then he pushed.
    Tiny stings slid over
the inner walls of her pussy, as his horn slid “to the hilt” and back. Over and
over those little stabs hit her and tingles spiraled from them. Wave after wave
of fiery heat pulsed through her as he moved. Livvy opened her eyes a slit, and
watched in awe as tiny shards of light pulsed around his head, dancing up and
down in time to their sexual beat. The sensations were so different from