Demon Familiar by Jory Strong

Author:Jory Strong [Strong, Jory]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotica
ISBN: 9781419936609
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing Inc
Published: 2011-09-07T04:00:00+00:00

Ian lifted his face to the sky, reveling in being in this world, human and mortal and free of the demon lord’s rule. He closed his eyes as he had in his female form upon leaving the abyss, savored the feel of the sun’s rays against his skin, though rather than the scent of flowers and the sound of music, he inhaled the smell of the ocean, heard children playing and the pounding of the surf.

Sublime. That was the word to describe what it meant to be here, despite the temptation that came with being in the presence of beautiful women wearing miniscule scraps of material, bikinis that covered only their nipples and mounds and the cleft between their sleek, tanned buttocks. To be in a place where more than one man wearing shorts, as he was, or the male version of bikini bottoms, had smiled at him, inviting him with their eyes to cross the sand and get better acquainted.

Hunger was a gnawing ache, as it had been in his female aspect. It was far more of a struggle to keep from satisfying it in this form than it had been as Ianthe. He’d always been more predatory in this aspect, but then he’d never been required to let a man penetrate him. He’d always been the one taking, dominating with the thrust of his cock.

He began to harden in the presence of so much temptation, but remembering the release he’d gained lying on Miguel’s bed, fantasizing about the man he was already bound to, he told himself he could resist temptation. He would resist it.

There was more to be had of this existence than the pleasure that came from feeding. Now, as Ian, masculine hungers dominated, but once satisfied, the preference for taking the female form would return, and with it, softer emotions, the craving for love among them.

He opened his eyes. Ahead of him a brother and sister were building a sandcastle while a toddler flung sand with a small plastic shovel. As Ianthe, he would one day desire a family. Already in his female aspect he longed to be accepted by those Miguel loved. Imagined being included in the pictures of those Miguel was related to.

Ian began walking, a frown settling on his face as he thought about the stack of skin magazines in Miguel’s nightstand—female forms to fantasize about while masturbating—and Miguel’s vehement denial of having been with another man. He could accept the necessity of being discreet, of avoiding unnecessary complications. In public and among those humans with no awareness of the supernatural existing around them, he could be nothing more than a close friend. But he didn’t intend to be some dark secret, a hidden shame. In the presence of the Were and her mate, or the half-elf and her detective husband, or Storm and the fey—when he felt he could trust them with knowledge of his origins and the familiar-bond tying him to Miguel—then he wouldn’t accept hiding the fact he and Miguel were lovers, as both Ianthe and Ian.

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