Trask is a lust demon on the hunt for a playmate, a
human exceptional enough to sate some of his ravenous hunger. When he finds
Rena, he knows that she is the one he must have. He makes it his business to
seduce her.Rena is immediately drawn to Trask. She could easily
fall for the dangerously sexy bad boy who makes her scream every time he makes
her come, but the problem with bad boys is that they’re actually bad. They
break girls’ hearts and hers has been broken too many times already. One more
crack might shatter it forever.Trask claims Rena for his own, but she needs more than
just sizzling sex. She wants to trust him, but can they ever share anything
more than lust?
An Excerpt From: A MATTER OF LUST
Copyright © LISA FOX, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
The deep, melodic trance music vibrated
through Trask’s body as he prowled the crowded dance floor. He was hungry, so
very, very hungry, and the time had come for him to find a willing partner for
the night. Any one of the mortals undulating around him would have sufficed,
but so far none of them appealed to him. The need gnawed at his insides, but he
waited, searching for the one. Over his long years among the humans, he’d learned
that it always paid to be a little bit discriminating. It made the feast so
much more gratifying.
He sidestepped around a young woman, his
shoulder accidentally brushing against hers. He felt her body temperature rise
as he passed, the lust that had been simmering just below the surface swelling
to a fevered pitch within her. She grabbed her companion and kissed him
ferociously, shamelessly rubbing herself against him. She wasn’t the only one
affected by his presence either. Potent waves of raw sexual energy radiated
from him, infecting the air around him, threatening to turn the club into one
giant orgy. Trask smiled at the thought.
He cruised the dance floor, reveling in
the exquisite thrill of his hunt. Human lust was such a decadent treat, so very
different from the desperate lust of the damned in hell, and it filled this
ordinarily dull world with brilliant light and added depth to the darkest
shadows. He could feel it oozing from the dancers, the men and the women,
sweating and panting, touching and grinding, their bodies writhing in time with
the music. Tension built in his groin and he welcomed the pure, straining
delight.
He stopped suddenly, the prickling at the
base of his spine alerting him to the presence of another demon nearby. Not a
lust demon like himself, but something similar. Pride maybe, or perhaps wrath?
He couldn’t quite get a fix on it. He waited, wondering if it was going to make
contact. Often other demons haunting and hunting the human realm wanted to
meet, to plot and plan and scheme, to “raise some hell” or whatever, but he got
the impression that it was occupied with something else entirely. Which was
just fine with him. He’d never been the social sort.
The music changed and a thumping bass beat
poured out of the speakers. Trask shook off the psychic residue of the other
and worked his way toward the bar. He ordered a bourbon on the rocks and leaned
back, happily absorbing the intoxicating atmosphere while scanning the crowd
for his potential playmate.
His gaze fell upon a woman on the edge of
the dance floor in a short, black dress that hugged every curve of her luscious
body. Her violently dyed red hair was piled high on her head and sexy tendrils
escaped to frame her heart-shaped face. There was a hint of rosy flush on her
smooth, round cheeks and the way her hips swayed to the music made his cock
stir.
Trask placed his drink aside and
unconsciously ran his tongue over his teeth as he glided toward her. She was
tall, probably close to six feet in her heels, but he still had to lean down to
whisper close to her ear. “Hello,” he purred, breathing in her clean scent of
shampoo and roses and woman.
She turned slowly toward him, her gaze
roaming over his face, his body, and he got the distinct impression that she
was mentally undressing him. He certainly hoped she was. She obviously liked
what she saw because a smile blossomed on her glossy, pink lips. “Hi.”
The instant, piercing sexual tension
between them made his blood surge. He reached out with a fine strand of psychic
energy and lightly dipped into her primal core. Trask hissed as desire coiled
in his groin. She was sweet ambrosia, a succulent feast just waiting to happen
and his cock ached to sink inside her, to make her come again and again while
he fed on all that glorious lust. “You are very beautiful,” he said, savoring
the tiny taste of her fire.
“Uh-huh,” she said, mischief and humor
making her eyes sparkle. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Trask laughed. He liked this woman. “I
think I might be in love with you,” he said, beginning the game. It was a line
that had worked many times before—the humans always seemed enchanted and amused
by the concept, but it was a hollow sentiment, something meant to elicit a grin
and nothing more. But as the words left his mouth, they felt different this
time, almost as if they had…weight.
“Are you sure it’s love you feel?” she
asked, a smile dancing along the corners of her mouth. Her eyes flicked down to
his crotch. “Or something else entirely?”
“Now I know I’m in love,” he replied, the
lust coursing through his veins. She was perfect. Fun. Bold. Smoking hot. And
she was going to be his. All night long. He reached out and traced the curve of
her cheek with his index finger. Her skin was flawless, warm and silky. “What’s
your name?”
She paused and an odd, little smile formed
on her lips. “Does it matter?”
Normally it wouldn’t matter—in fact, there
was no reason why it should matter, but for some reason it did matter. It
mattered a lot. “Yes.”
Her smile changed, softened, and Trask was
awestruck by just how simply beautiful she was. “Rena. My name is Rena.”
“Rena.” He liked the way it rolled off his
tongue.
“And what about you?” she asked, leaning
closer to him. He looked straight down into her very ample cleavage and took
his time enjoying that magnificent view. His fingers itched to caress that soft
skin, to feel the weight of her full, round breasts in his hands. “Do you have
a name? Or should I just call you the sexy Darkman of my dreams?”
“I do like the sound of that.” He wondered
if his presence was affecting her, making her more daring than she’d normally
be or if this was just her nature. He had the power to inspire humans to say
and do outrageous things simply by standing beside them. His gaze touched on
her flamboyant red hair and he thought—hoped—that it was her and not a
consequence of his influence. “But Trask is so much shorter and to the point.”
“Trask,” she said, and he had to admit, he
liked the way his name sounded on her lips. He couldn’t wait to hear her scream
it. Her eyes trailed over him, her gaze a provocative caress that sent hot,
tingling ripples down his spine. “So, now that you’ve declared your love, what
happens next?”
“Oh, you know, the usual.” He caught hold
of a loose strand of her hair and twined it around his fingers. The tension
between them rocketed up a few notches and he inhaled the essence of her
arousal, breathing it deep into his body, relishing the flavor of her. “A
whirlwind romance, storybook marriage, honeymoon in Paris.”
“Followed swiftly by a quickie divorce in
Mexico, right?”
Her voice was tinged with unmistakable
venom and the bitterness sliced through the hazy, plush cloud of their lust.
Startled by the mental slap in the face, Trask dropped his hand back to his
side. Darkness deepened around him as anger settled in. He did not like this
turn of events at all. “What makes you think I’d do anything quick with you?”
“I see,” she said, and he watched her
features soften as her mood shifted. Humans were so extraordinarily complex. He
didn’t think he’d ever understand their ability to feel so much, so quickly and
thoroughly, even when those emotions were completely contradictory. Demons were
defined by their desires, embodiments of the thing they hungered after. There
was never a reason for a demon to feel anything more than his driving need.
Everything else just got in the way of the goal.
Her bitterness ebbed away, gone almost as
quickly as it had come, and she favored him with a dazzling, flirtatious smile.
“You’re a slow-and-steady kind of guy then?”
“Oh yes,” he said, returning her grin.
“And I always win in the end.”
She laughed, a lovely, musical sound that
tugged at his insides. She leaned into him, a whisper of space between them and
he could feel the heat of her body on his skin. “Hmm,” she said, and bit down
on her lower lip. Her fingers flitted over his collarbone. “I do like
confidence.”
He caught her hand and brought it to his
lips. “Then you’re definitely going to like me.”
About the
Author:
World-renowned
neurosurgeon, jet fighter pilot, secret member of American royalty, seducer of
legions of beautiful, outrageously sexy angels and demons and vampires and werewolves
and the occasional pirate, Lisa Fox has done it all…in her own mind. In
reality, she can generally be found at her desk with a cup of coffee close at
hand. Or maybe a martini. It really depends on the day.
Feedback, comments, opinions, words of wisdom,
chocolate cake and the addresses of super hot men are always appreciated and
encouraged. Please feel free to contact Lisa any time.
Twitter:
@LisaFoxRomance
