Tempt Me Not

Blurb

Diantha Harald, at the weakest moment in her life, makes a deal with a seductive demon named Zacchias, who wants something from her that she’s unwilling to give. Asher Smith has also made a deal with Zacchias, but little does he realize the demon plans to use him to tempt Diantha. If Diantha breaks her contract with the demon, she will lose her soul. If she does as Zacchias wants, she could lose much more, including a love she has only just discovered.

As the end of Diantha’s contract with Zacchias draws closer, the demon changes the rules...as a demon is wont to do. The only thing he can’t do is steal what Diantha isn’t willing to give. Free will must be applied in Zacchias’s world and it’s the only thing that stops him from taking what he wants. But Zacchias never loses. To teach Diantha a lesson and force her to submit to his demands, the twisted demon sends her back to repeat a time loop again and again.

Only Asher can save Diantha now. But first he must find her. And a desperate deal with the demon may be their only hope...

Excerpt

“I want him, but I can’t have him. The temptation is too much,” she whispered as she opened the drawer and pulled out the dildo she’d used infrequently since her arrival at Zacchias’s stronghold. But Asher Smith drew feelings and desires from deep within her that she long thought were dead and buried. Her body now told her that they weren’t and she needed to do something before she lost control.

There was no relief of daylight here, only the thick, clinging blackness of night, a suitable home for a twisted demon. It was his job to tempt, and he embraced his role with enthusiasm and devilish delight.

Diantha climbed onto the bed and spread her legs, pressing the instrument of pleasure against her wet opening. She leaned back and closed her eyes as she pressed inward, her greedy lips separating and accepting the phallus into her body.

Tonight, for the first time, she’d met Zacchias’s latest mortal acquisition—Asher Smith. One look and her heart had pumped faster than a speeding train heading toward collision. She knew he was the temptation she might be unable to resist.

Using her other hand, she swirled a finger over her clit, driving herself toward oblivion, away from this room. She imagined it was Asher’s cock burrowing deep and she arched and pressed deeper, gasping at the penetration.

He came from her world and still retained his soul. Like her. Dressed in a black tuxedo and pristine white shirt, he’d entered the dining hall accompanied by Zacchias, a soulless woman clinging to each arm.

Diantha studied him from her relaxed position seated in a leopard-patterned armchair situated next to the fireplace. A mantel overpainted with scenes of gigantic, predatory, mythical beasts overpowered the room, standing guard. Waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Just like Zacchias. It was a room she had come to hate. Just like Zacchias.

Presentiment spilled over her as it seemed she gazed into the eyes of her destruction. Rising from the overstuffed chair, she sauntered across the room to greet Zacchias with a kiss to his smooth, chiseled jaw.

“Welcome back,” she murmured. Then her gaze turned to the man and she studied him closely. He was probably not much older than herself, perhaps in his mid thirties. “I see you’ve brought someone with you.”

The women were touching him, sliding their hands over the silky smoothness of the jacket he wore, rubbing against him. One of them inched her hand below to cup the front of his trousers, smiling up at him lasciviously.

“Enough, ladies,” Zacchias commanded. “Leave us.”

The women pouted but did as he asked, slinking out of the room, leaving the three of them alone, silently surveying each other.

Zacchias reached for her arm, linking it through his own, and they moved back into the main part of the dining room.

“Pour us a couple of drinks, my dear.” He walked toward the striped, black and white settee on the opposite side of the fireplace.

Diantha poured whiskey into two etched glasses and tracked across the room to hand them their drinks. First she offered Zacchias his drink and then she turned to the other man. Their fingers touched briefly as he reached for it, and she inhaled sharply at the connection.

“You like him,” Zacchias purred softly from behind her. She straightened and turned toward him, smoothing her expression. She knew better than to expose her thoughts to him.

He was staring at her, studying her reactions. He raised the glass into the air. “To new associations. May they lead to fruitful endeavors.”