Wish Upon A Demon

26.

CHAPTER - TWENTY SIX

Demon boy pushed past me, into my house.

I closed the door behind him after which I followed Zylen who headed towards my couch, collapsing on it. He looked like he was drunk, his movements confirmed it further, but I didn’t have the slightest clue how demons could get drunk. Demons have powers, and teleporting abilities, so it was pretty hard to believe advanced creatures like them could experience the feeling of being drunk. Maybe they had a special drink in their world, which was made especially for that purpose, or whatever.

“What are you doing here?” I ask demon boy. The tub of cookies and cream ice cream, which I had been feasting on before he entered, had tipped over, causing it to spill slightly over his face and a lot on the couch. I grabbed the tissue box from the coffee table and tried to wipe the white stain from the fabric. Then, I lifted up demon boy into a sitting position with a lot of difficulty, and he still hadn’t answered my question.

“My face feels weird.” Demon boy says, lifting his hand probably to touch the side of his face but drops it midway like he didn’t have the strength. I grab another tissue and wipe the side of his face, which is smothered in ice cream. “It’s because of the ice cream,” I explain, removing the last of it from his face. A few seconds later, as I’m cleaning up, demon boy opens his eyes. They glow in bright and deep purple, like the ones I used to see when I was little frequently after my mother’s death. It was the main reason my father decided that I needed to see a therapist.

And that further led me to believe that Zylen King had been eyeing me since I was little, and who knew how many nights he had spent watching me, reading my mind, laughing at my silly and childish wishes. I was like his personal entertainment center, somewhere he came to forget the burdens of being the future king and to remind him that there were people in the world who could be made fun of and mocked.

I see a bit of ice cream remaining and go to wipe it away only to pause.

“I’m sorry, Faye.”

The words are spoken in a hushed tone, like a whisper but even quieter, almost making it impossible to understand if I wasn’t standing so close to him. A stray hair on my shoulder is brushed back by smooth fingers, and my cheek is cupped, making me gaze into the eyes that have haunted me for years. I didn’t know what to say at his apology. It was unexpected to hear it from him, from the man who had entered my life and made me feel something for him when he barely – rarely showcased any feelings for me. I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself by falling for him further, only to watch him crush my heart and walk away.

“I’m sorry.” He said it again. I held the hand cupping my cheek and dropped it on his lap, lightly. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying now, considering the unfocused eyes and the murmuring. I was about to push away from him, when I was pulled back to the couch, under the demon. The ice cream tub beside me tumbles. I’m aware of it falling as a second later, my shoulder area and neck are covered in cool, melted liquid before the tub falls to the floor, spilling and rolling over, ruining the carpet. My focus, which was on the floor, is captured by the demon boy’s purple eyes, which are settled on me.

“What are you doing? Get off me,” I say, pushing lightly at his chest.

Zylen is dangerously close to me now. I can’t read what’s going on in his mind, which I figured I could do since he was drunk. But I couldn’t, and I didn’t know his further intentions either. Frankly, this situation and position were instilling fear in me, but some sick twisted part was feeling excitement at his proximity. He leans in, lips close to mine and just when I thought they would meet mine, they change direction, going for my neck. The action successfully makes me curl my hands in fists, nails digging into my palms, and curl my toes. I felt embarrassed at showing such a strong reaction to something so subtle.

But there was also – oh my god.

Zylen King’s lips don’t stop.

They travel down, leaving feathery kisses along the column of my neck, and just when I thought I would be fine, I feel something moist against my neck, and it isn’t the ice-cream. His tongue licks at the ice cream, leaving me breathless and holding onto the skin of the couch for life support. Again, he doesn’t stop, trying to induce some sort of reaction from me. I bit my lip. I won’t give in. This isn’t right. I push at his chest, trying to get him off but I’m rewarded with both my arms being pinned above my head. It’s useless trying now, he was much stronger even when drunk, and I was a broken mess underneath him, trying my best to resist him.

But that sick, twisted part rose to prominence once more. It advised me to give in. The hardest part was that I found myself listening to that voice. I was undeniably attracted to the demon prince, who had me pinned to the couch, and the more time his lips spent on my skin, the more I found my control crumbling, and when he sucked at a spot on my neck, that resistance – control shattered. I wanted to free my hands and tug at his ebony strands, but they were pinned above me, leaving me gasping in hopes that they would be freed. No words were spoken between us, there was only silence occasionally being broken by the erotic sounds released from my mouth and his.

Demon boy’s lips traveled upwards once more and I cried with relief when they met mine, kissing me with an urge I didn’t recognize. It was like he too had waited for this to happen for a long time. My lips moved against his, memorizing this feeling of how it felt to kiss him. One hand holding my hands in place, his other hand freely trails down my body. A second later, I feel his fingers unbutton my pajama top, leaving me only in my bra. His lips leave mine, kissing down my neck and to my breasts. I moan out loud, a sound that’s very new to my ears. He must have enjoyed and found pleasure in inducing that erotic reaction out of me because my bra was unhooked a second later with ease, which leads me to wonder how many times he’d done that before.

He was a four-hundred-year-old demon, so I didn’t expect anything less.

Every rational thought in my head flew out the window when I felt his mouth on my breast, sucking and pulling with his teeth. Several, loud moans escaped my mouth and the hand pinning my hands tightened, making it impossible to free them. Then those torturous lips traveled downwards, even lower. I couldn’t – wouldn’t open my eyes. I was embarrassed, flustered, and unwilling to see my body underneath him, submitting to him. There was a connection. We were bound together by a raw connection that induced pleasure every time he was near. And the connection had increased in intensity, ever since the transition.

The transition had to do with this.

But that fact didn’t make me stop him. It made me encourage all the more as my pants were pulled down. My hips rocked against his, the need to feel something – feel him against me increasing. I was losing control. As my underwear was pulled down, my face turned to the side and I finally opened my eyes. I knew they glowed a deep purple, just like his.New, unknown feelings were bursting through me, and I knew that after tonight, he would always have leverage over me just like I would have leverage over him.

He would always control me and I would always control him.

And that thought didn’t scare me like before.

I cried out, my voice a mix of pleasure, surprise, and excitement. I’m blushing deeply by now, that I know as I can almost feel the red spreading along my cheeks. I met Zylen’s bright eyes, which glowed like mine, as his fingers pushed in and out of me. I was in a state of euphoria. There was a tinge of pain, but the pleasure overrode it all. His mouth met mine again, moving against mine just as his fingers moved in and out. My breasts brushed against the fabric of his shirt, adding to the sensation I was feeling. My thighs brushed against the hardness in between his legs instigating a soft groan from the back of his throat.

Managing to get my hand out of his grip, and as we kissed, I unbuttoned his shirt, bringing his bare chest to my view. My hands ran over his chest and Zylen emitted a growl, pinning my hands back where they were. Close. I was very close. “Let go.” Zylen King whispered in my ear, voice laced with huskiness and ardor and it was all I needed. With a jerk of his thumb against the bundle of nerves which was sensitive due to the anticipation and friction, I came undone. I clenched his fingers, riding out my climax, shuddering. The feeling was so new and addictive. It made me feel wanted. I breathed hard, my heart racing and my forehead against his. His lips were no longer against mine, but I could still feel them. And then with that dangerous look in his eyes, he once more began to crawl downwards, and I knew what was going to happen.

My hips were held down, as Zylen dipped in and that was when my gaze fell on a little bottle, somewhat like a flask, that had slipped out his pocket. It was filled with an odd colored liquid, which was probably what he had to send him into a high like this. And it was that bottle that bought me back to my senses. I held him by the shoulders, shifting to an upright position. My thighs were tingly, the spot between them sensitive and aching, and my eyes were hooded as I came down from my high and begin calming down. Zylen looked at me with hooded eyes as well, wanting to continue where we had stopped, but holding eye contact, I pulled up my underwear and pants, which were around my ankles.

And then I stood up on partially wobbly legs - courtesy to what happened before, and said the words I had to say before everything had begun. “Leave.” Zylen didn’t say much. He simply rose up, waiting a minute to see if I changed my mind, and slowly I could feel his cold exterior returning, blocking himself completely from me. “Leave, please,” I repeat once more, swallowing, my voice less hard than before and my eyes lightly watering from anger and irritation of the earlier events.

He was drunk and probably wouldn’t even remember what had happened tomorrow. Nevertheless, he was not thinking right and it was wrong of me to let this go on even though I knew he would mostly regret it later, and think this was a mistake. So, I don’t stop him as he rushes out, closing the door with a bang.

And once he was gone, I was left alone in the dimly lighted living room, not sure how to feel about what had happened.