The words were directed at the doorway. At Mira. At the naked woman standing there with a demoness behind her. His voice was warm. Amused. The tone of a man who had been caught mid-stroke and didn't care.
"After running away without cleaning my cock."
Nora's body went statue.
Every muscle. Every tendon. Every fiber. Locked. Rigid. Her crimson eyes — wide, wider than they had ever been — were fixed on the man. On the body. On the face.
The six-pack abs. The muscles. The lean, pale, defined body that she had seen in the cave. The incubus tail. The cock — the thick, long, twelve-inch cock that she had been forced to lick. That she had been forced to take in her mouth. That her tongue had traced from base to tip while her body betrayed her and her mind screamed.
The cock that had been inside her mouth.
The cock that was currently inside another woman's ass.
'It's him.'
'It's HIM.'
