Sculpting a Demon Read Online Free PDF

against her, making her hot and wet all over again. She swallowed hard and forced herself to look away. “Could you please put something on?” she asked. “It’s hard to concentrate with you…” She waved her hand over him.
    A twist of his wrist and he was suddenly clad in black pants and a skintight black shirt. The clothes appeared perfectly tailored for him, hugging the firm, toned muscles in his arms and legs. He raised one dark eyebrow. “Better?”
    “H-how did you—?” Groaning, she buried her face in her hands. This was too much. Far too much. “Bring on those men in the white coats,” she muttered. “I’m ready.”
    “You want men in white coats?”
    Something in his voice had her peeking at him through her fingers. The distress and confusion on his handsome face almost made her laugh. Almost. One glance at the clothes he wore, the ones that had appeared out of nowhere, cut off any humor she might have felt. “No,” she said. “No, I don’t want any men in white coats.” She forced her hands back into her lap and tried to take deep, cleansing breaths. It wasn’t working. Maybe it would have been easier if he wasn’t so damn gorgeous. Bracing herself, she met his eyes. “I want you to tell me what’s going on.”
     
    Arien thought about the best way to answer as he stood over her.
    He couldn’t quite believe how muddled his thoughts were, how his body was still vibrating from the shock of first seeing her awake, of feeling the power behind those wide green eyes and hearing the voice that called to him in the depths of hell. Being this close to her caused a kind of electrical current to pulse within him, beginning behind his eyes and then running downward through his body, straight to his groin. His insides hummed from the intensity. She was, without doubt, the most stunning woman he had ever seen, but her beauty was not the conventional, surface kind. It was something far, far deeper, far more devastating and sublime. And he was so hard. She made him so hard. All he really wanted, all he could really concentrate on was the thought of carrying her back to that bed, burying himself deep inside her and making her scream for him. His previous exploits in the Lust Circle were pale shadows in comparison to the raging need that tore through him for her, and it was only sheer force of will that kept him from falling to his knees and promising her anything, anything at all just to be able to taste her.
    “Hello?” she asked, refocusing his attention. “If you don’t start talking, I’m going to call the police.”
    Arien almost laughed. The police. Humans were so quaint. “May I ask your name?” he said.
    She eyed him suspiciously before answering. “Lila,” she said.
    Lila. A name as lovely as her voice.
    “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here or not?”
    “You performed a ritual. A spell,” he began. He had to keep it simple as possible. It was obvious that she had no concept of what she’d done. No inkling of her true power. And that was just fine with him. “I heard your call and answered as you requested.”
    “Uh-huh,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “And what? You’re some kind of magic genie or something?”
    This time Arien did laugh. “No, my sweet. I am a demon.”
    For a split second, he thought she might choke on her own tongue. He immediately knelt in front of her and held her face in his hands. His powers did not extend to raising the dead and he wasn’t about lose her now, not after he had gone through all the trouble of finding her. “Breathe,” he ordered. “Breathe.”
    Her hands latched on to his wrists. “A demon? You’re a demon?” Her voice had a distinctly hysterical edge, but she managed to rein herself in. Arien had to admire her fortitude. “But you don’t have horns or scales or glowing red eyes.”
    He flashed her his very best smile. “Would you like me to?”
    “No,” she squeaked. “Please don’t do that.” Her big green