Demons in Edinburgh

This time he pulled back on his own.

She stood naked before him, trembling, returning one hand to cover her breasts in an attempt at modesty, the other across her groin. The unexpected dual feelings of terror and sexual excitement ran through her mind, a juxtaposition that sent her brain to an operating point she had never experienced in her life; she wanted this beautiful man, she wanted to be taken by force, to feel him inside her, but not like this. Not here in this place. Not with her friends and his dead brother just feet away from them and their bodies still warm.

In a surprise, he turned away from her, towards the body of his brother on the floor, and knelt down with his hands moving up to his hair, struggling with his own personal agony. She looked to the stairway in the tunnel only a few feet away, and thought, this is my chance. Maybe he is fighting within himself, the compassionate human part of him winning me this small chance to escape from his inner demon. I should do it now. I need to do it now. Do I have the courage?

She took one small step towards the tunnel opening, then brought her other foot slowly around to take another. With bare feet, she made no sound, and he didn't seem to take notice. Another step, then another, then the panic rose in her throat and she bolted for the tunnel opening. If she could escape, she would crash naked into the party, but what did that matter now? It would be freedom from this place. Freedom with her life.

She made it to the base of the steps when he caught her. He was so fast, and silent. Strong arms grabbed her around the waist and tackled her, face down on the stairs, and his body pressed down on hers, pushing her shoulders, her breasts, her hips against the cold, hard stone. His head moved in to the base of her neck and his hot breath was like an oven on her sensitive skin.

"Don't move," he whispered in her ear. She was pinned so tightly that she couldn't if she had wanted to. The stone cold of the floor against her naked body should have given her a chill, but the heat emanated from his body wherever he pressed against her skin. Even where there wasn't skin-to-skin contact, the heat radiated through the open space between them.

His hand touched her back, held there a moment, then moved to brush her hair out of the way. The heat at her neck almost burned her, it was so fresh from his supernatural lungs, but he moved his mouth up and down, and back and forth, slowly, so no one area of her flesh became unbearable. Shivers ran from her upper back down her spine and all the way to her toes. She squeezed her legs tightly together and felt the warming in her groin, and knew she was wet there already with this man pinning her on the stairs.

Then he slid his hand down her back, never lifting it away from her. When he reached her lower back, he shifted his body to expose her ass, holding her firmly, and his hand continued down to caress it. He moved over her curves slowly as if he owned her; she closed her eyes and bit her lip so she wouldn't make a sound in reaction to the sensation. Where his hand touched, it burned the skin of her ass, but he didn't stop moving, around and around, and each time he made a pass he went further in between her legs and up her ass crack. probing. She could not resist; her hips began to sway with his powerful touch.

Oh God, she was going to get fucked by this beautiful and dangerous man on the stairs in his dungeon. Part of her brain loved it, another part wanted to scream; but it was such a fucking turn on, his heat, his touch, his dominance over her, and he never stopped blowing the hot air onto her neck, then with a kiss, then a move to the back of her ears. Her hips made full circles now in synchrony with the movement of his hand as it reached all the way down between her legs and into the lips of her pussy on the downstroke, and up across her asshole on the way back up, then around the curve of her ass.

Who was this man; she hated him, but she also wanted him desperately. Were her feelings like the fight in his being between demon and man? In her mind it was a fight between the woman who wanted to escape and live her normal life again, and the woman who wanted to be fucked, hard, right now by this unstoppable, beautiful beast.

His hand moved off of her and she heard the sounds of him fumbling with his trousers.

She made an attempt to wriggle away from him but he had her pinned tightly by the weight of his body and his other arm was wrapped securely around her. Then the hand was back on her ass, rubbing it, opening it. She sucked in her breath. She wanted it; she didn't want it.

He spread her ass cheeks open and his burning penis pushed into her ass crack. This was it. The heat was unbearable from his demon cock as it found the small opening of her asshole and started to push its way in. Then they began a cycle: he played with her hair up by her neck, twisting it around his fingers, kissing her ears, then he pushed his cock a little further into her ass; she moaned, and shifted her hips in response to adjust to this intrusion, then he would hold still and repeat the cycle, petting her. She had never tried anal sex, and he was so big and burning into her. Hell of a way to learn, she thought grimly, and she sucked in her breath as he pushed in further. She tried hard to relax to take all of him in, because she knew he wasn't stopping and it would be worse if she fought it.

She was sweating, panting, on the stairs, in his grasp, when finally he stopped pushing. The demon cock was fully inside her, her entire lower body was baked with the heat. Without pulling his cock out, he shifted his position to wrap strong hands around her torso, and lifted her up off the stairs. She was flying, still pegged by his cock at his waist, but suspended in front of him with her legs wrapped around behind. This demon had her stuck in the ass with his huge burning cock, and was going to wheel her around.

But she didn't want to see any of the room and be reminded of what had taken place only moments earlier. Fortunately, he swung her around facing only the walls of the room and towards the fireplace on the other side, which was now burning brightly with a huge fire—when did that happen? She had no time to wonder as her body was slammed against the mantle above it. Her hands flew out to brace her fall, and she found herself framed face down, naked, between this demon in her ass and her hands on the mantle, her entire front hanging over and being roasted by the heat of a roaring fire. Her feet didn't even touch the ground; they were still wrapped around the back of his legs. God, it was hot. Her breasts hung down to the fire and her nipples burned.

And then he pushed into her. He pushed hard, grinding her pelvis against him with his strong hold. Where did he get this strength? The sweat poured from her brow down onto the fire and her small breasts bounced back and forth as he pounded deeper into her asshole, again and again. She began to feel lightheaded and was afraid she would lose her hold on the mantle and slip into the fire, but at the last moment before she lost her grip he flung her back around to the table, flipping her over on her back. He pulled out of her ass and moved to her face.

She had no time to breath, for his burning dick was thrust into her mouth, pushing deep. She gagged, tasting the sweetness of his dick as it slid past her tongue and into the back of her mouth. She wondered, is that the taste of demon cock or is that my own ass? But he pushed again and again into her throat and all she could do was try to catch a breath around the edges.

Then he was out of her, and made a great howl. It was a sound she had never heard before, and didn't know was possible to make. All over her chest suddenly there was an intense burning. He spurted great quantities of white cum out of his cock and onto her breasts. She moved her hand out to it, and still it came, in pulses, covering her fingers; but they sent a signal to her brain that it was not a burning temperature, but rather a sharply cold one, which was the truth once she focused her mind on her senses. With the shock of the temperature difference, and the surround heat of his body, her sensitive breasts had misread the extreme cold as a burn. It was demon cum. As ice cold as a stream of mountain lake water. She remembered a legend about that.

Before the cold of his ejaculate could seep into her, he spun her around on the table and exploded with hot breath between her legs. He was on her pussy now, pushing into it with his tongue. It was incredible, the sensation of him on the inside and outside of her clitoris at the same time, inside her pushing up and outside pushing down. Did he have some crazy forked tongue? He was a demon. She almost laughed in a craze then. Who or what the hell was fucking her? But as he pushed harder the waves of sexual pleasure came over her, and her urge to laugh subsided; she moaned. Oh God, there was nothing to stop this. Her entire body was burning, and her groin exploded in a climax, shaking her torso under his hold. She had never felt anything close to this.

Then she passed out.

Time passed. When she woke, it could have been an hour or a day that she had been sleeping; the past and the present seemed to be from completely different timelines. All around her were layers of blankets and pillows; she was nestled in a plush four-poster bed, in a quiet room, and guessed that this must still be the Fraser house, and that she was upstairs. The room was beautifully decorated, in a haunting, old fashioned way.

She craned her head at the creaking of footsteps in the hallway, and sat up in bed. The door opened.

"Ah, there ye are, awake," said the familiar gentle voice of Una. Her face didn't have the light joy of the previous night; she looked friendly, still, but there was a deep sadness and tiredness in her eyes as she came up beside Nika's bed. There was redness too, but it was normal human redness from crying all night, not anything to do with a demon, Nika could tell. Demons! she remembered suddenly, and that popped her fully awake. A middle-aged hand reached down onto the creamy young skin of Nika's arm and pressed into her gently. "The professor wants to have a word with you, lass, then we'll see about gettin' you home, if you have the energy for it."

Nika nodded. Una left her alone in the room, and she blinked and shook her head in an attempt to bring the memories into focus.

What had happened last night? Was it a dream? Something about the party, and dark forces, and finding the secret passageway. Then it all rushed back. Misty! Ostin! The demon surprising them in that basement room and slaying them both. Then Zachary! Oh, Zachary; she put her hand down to her belly under the covers and slipped it between her legs. She remembered everything. Zachary had saved her from his brother last night, but then had his way with her. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine his face, the way he stared at her, his look of domination, ownership, rapture.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Excuse me, Nika, is it? I am Professor Fraser." He looked down at her, waiting for a reaction. "From the University. This is my house, where we held the party last night."

"Yes, sir," she said meekly. She was at a loss for words. What next? What do I say to this man, and how do I start my life again after this, she wondered.

He remained quiet, looking at her. Then he strode to the window. The tension showed. It seemed he wanted to be very careful in the words he chose next.

"Nika, there were happenings here last night. I know the details. Zachary told me everything."

"Zachary?" she said, with more emotion than she intended.

"Yes, my son. He is okay. He is . . . he is himself this morning, if you understand me." She nodded. The demon part of him was gone, or at least suspended, for now. "However, he didn't feel that he could meet with you today. Una will walk you home when you feel ready."

Nika raised her eyebrows but said nothing. So this was it? I just walk back to school, and we all pretend nothing happened? My friends were murdered last night and we pretend it was nothing? They just met with an unfortunate accident? Your one son was a raving crazy man and killed my friends and your other son raped me? And we say that nothing happened?

"I'd. . . we'd like you to go home and think carefully about your visit here. I am very sorry for our part in your suffering. There have been prices paid, on both sides." Both sides of what, Nika thought. Hosts and partygoers? Frasers and students? Humans and demons?

He continued, "There is nothing that all of us can do now, except to go on with our lives. Zachary has taken care of the details. As for your experience . . . I believe that you arrived with your friends here at my house about ten o'clock, drank too much, and Una settled you into the bed here in the late hours when she thought you weren't able to walk home. And you woke just now and returned home. You know nothing else. That is what happened. Do you agree?"

Nika was silent as she absorbed this. She could go to the police, but what would she say. What could she say that they would believe? Demons in Edinburgh are real after all? It's not just a ghost tour, there are real ghosts and spirits here, and they killed my friends in a fucking dungeon under the city? That we were fucking around jacking off a horny French guy with a huge dick and we shot cum all over their collectibles, and we pissed off a demon who killed two of us? And very nearly killed me as well, she reflected.

They had been trespassing. Rory had died, Nika was sure, and the old man had paid a price already. Zachary had saved her, and then attacked her. But that man-demon was so beautiful, and she had never dreamed of sexual arousal that intense as when he took her with his power. Did she want the police to accuse him of a crime and drag him in for questioning? Did she want him locked up? She didn't know. But she decided she didn't want to go to the police now, and she would at least go along with the plan until she could think it over more thoroughly.

"Yes, I agree," she said. He looked at her carefully, and moved to the door.

"Professor," she added, watching the sorrow in his figure. He turned to listen. "I am sorry, for last night. I am sorry for our part in what happened, and for your loss."

He nodded gravely, turned, and left the room. She dressed and when Una returned they started for the University together. At the South Bridge Una bade farewell to the young woman. Nika continued alone up the hill towards her dormitory.

"Nika!" a voice came from behind her, and she knew immediately who uttered it. Her heart stopped, but she pretended not to hear, continuing on, but when he repeated the call she flew around and faced him. There he was, Zachary the human, dressed in a formal long coat and hat pulled tight around him. He was as dashing as she remembered. Her heart was ready to explode in her chest, in reaction to this man who had made himself such a large part of her life so quickly.

"You are all right?" he asked, concern showing on his face. She nodded, and gulped.

"I am so so sorry about your friends." He paused. His eyes were moist with tears. "And about . . . well, of course, what happened afterwards. I will need time to explain all of that to you. If you want to hear the full explanation, I mean. There is a lot to tell, a lot of family history. I will also understand if you want to walk away from this and never hear from me again. I will obey your wishes."

She looked deep into his eyes. There was no red light showing there today, only his haunting beauty. A sad, young, but ageless beauty, longing for love.

"Yes," she said. "Yes. I want to hear your story."