Page 2 of Demon’s Temptation

Tonight he needed to release all the tension eating him from the inside out before it completely corroded his self-control. Usually feeding from the emotions pouring off the beings that came to his club, a few one-on-one sessions, were enough to satisfy him. Sex wasn’t necessary…wasn’t wanted. Tonight, though, he needed more.

The deep, pounding bass of heavy rock thrummed through his office door. He let it move through him, did his best to force the swirl of volatile emotion down, swallowing the memories along with it. Tonight he needed his barriers rock solid. Anything else was too dangerous.

Putting on his game face, he straightened his jacket, and opened the door. Muted red light greeted him, blanketing the entire club. He scanned the room—the place was packed. The new club had done exceptionally well in its first few months of business. Bodies moved on the dance floor, others made use of the darkened corners.

Using the place the way it was designed to be used.

Before he knew his intention, he unconsciously reached out with his senses…for her.

There.

His eyes drifted shut, like a heroin addict finally getting a much-needed hit. And like always, Chaya’s presence slammed into him, wrapped around him, threatened to tip him over the edge.

Shit.

His cock filled, hardened instantly. With the way he was feeling, he should send her home. He needed to fuck, to release the pressure building to unbearable levels inside him, and as always, that female was like a goddamned Siren.

He should never have agreed to her coming with him. But she’d argued that he needed staff familiar with the business, people with experience. There was also the fact that her sister was in Roxburgh, as was her father, a male Chaya had thought dead until recently. How the hell could he say no?

The incubus inside him wanted her, wanted to taste her lust, wanted to surrender to her, be dominated by her. Wanted to feel the full force of all that attitude and fire turned on him, wanted her to give him what he truly craved. The human part of him needed more, wanted everything.

And that was unacceptable.

It was also impossible.

No one at the club knew what he truly was. He’d been playing the part of Dom for such a long time he’d even fooled himself on occasion. But that longing never went away, no matter what he told himself. It was always there, just below the surface.

He’d felt so betrayed by his own body during those weeks with Garrett, and he’d vowed never to put himself in that position ever again. The way he’d chosen to live his life since, it was self-preservation.

Playing the Dom had felt like the only way to move forward. He was also the owner of two sex clubs frequented by beings, creatures, driven by instinct, many who would see him as weaker, someone to be walked over if they knew his true nature.

Now he was stuck.

God, he’d been fighting it so long.

And tonight the strength of that pull to Chaya was like a force of nature. It lit up every nerve ending, lifted the hair on his arms and the back of his neck. A rough sound escaped his throat. Oh yeah, he needed a fix, but not her.

Chaya was willful, defied him constantly, pushed him daily. But all that attitude, that smart mouth of hers, was a front. She’d made it clear she was a submissive and that she wanted him to be the one to take her in hand. But he couldn’t pretend to be someone—something—else, not with her.

Still, everything about her drew him. She shone like a beacon, calling to him at a soul-deep level. Fate’s way of fucking with him some more, obviously, like they hadn’t fucked him over enough.

It didn’t stop him from fantasizing that Chaya could be the one to fulfil the endless ache, the desperate need that throbbed inside him every damn day.

But she wasn’t for him. And he couldn’t risk her seeing the truth of his nature. He couldn’t take that kind of rejection, not from Chaya.

He also knew that once wouldn’t be enough, not with her.

And he’d hurt her. In the end, he’d hurt her.

He didn’t do permanent. Never more than once with anyone, and only when he’d reached breaking point, like he was close to doing tonight. Sex always made him feel empty somehow, hollow. He preferred to give others what they needed and feed on their emotions. He sure as fuck couldn’t deal with his own. The volatile twisted shit swirling inside him was better off ignored.

Scanning the room, he searched for someone to suit his purposes…

The light dimmed for a few moments then a new song began, starting out slow, heavy bass, sensual. Several people had turned, eyes trained toward something or someone on the other side of the club.

Jesus.

Pins and needles danced down his spine.