Sex can be weird. It shouldn’t be though.
It should be sweet, or hot, or fast or slow. But it should not be weird. Unless, of course, weird is your thing. But I’m talking about that awkward weird. The shitty kind. Not first time awkward either, I’m talking that “I shouldn’t be doing this with this person ‘cuz they ain’t shit/don’t mean me no good/only want the pussy temporarily/or some other bullshit derivation therein” type awkward weird.
But when you have sex that feels right? That feels comfortable, deep in your bones? So much so that you revel in all facets of intimacy? That’s that good stuff. In this unedited snippet from the next novel in my demon series, my heroine Steele is enjoying that kind of sex – that kind of lovemaking – with her demon Miles.
“Are you doing something to me to make me feel this good?”
“Do you feel better than usual?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“Huh?” Miles stopped, lifting her away from his neck to look in her face.
“Are you trying to get me to talk about other men?”
“No,” he said firmly, shuddering with distaste. “Never.”
“Good. I don’t kiss and tell. Ain’t been that many to speak of no way.”
He appreciated that.
“Now answer my question.”
“Eva, I’m not doing any demon trickery to increase your pleasure. You feel better with me because we are made for each other. It’s natural chemistry, not sorcery.”
She liked that.
So did he. “There she is,” he whispered, and they kissed leisurely, thoroughly. The urgency was banked now, a slow burning flame. The fire was hot though, just waiting for the right sliver of wood to shift, flare up and consumer them both.
As they lay there enjoying every scrap of tactile pleasure from cheeks and teeth, skin and the tips of fingers, she opened her legs.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered. “I want to kiss them.”
She did, and practically purred as he did. When she opened them again, she smiled, stroking his deep red face with its pale, bright eyes, and relaxed even more as he began that lovely push-pull inside her.
It wasn’t hard, she was used to him by now, but it wasn’t easy. He had to use a certain amount of finesse to force his way in even though she was dripping and needy, but he did not hurt her.
He knew she loved this part of their sexual dance. The slow advance and retreat of his firm, small thrusts, feeling the muscles in his ass flex beneath her hands as he cranked up her pleasure notch by notch, inch by inch.
And throughout it all he watched her. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t intrusive or strange. It didn’t make her feel vulnerable or impatient. She enjoyed his attention. It felt right. Like it was perfectly in order for him to see straight into her and revel in everything he found.