The medieval illustrations lied: he wasn't a monster. But then, a monster wouldn't have been able to do his job. And how surprising was it that there would be lies associated with demons?
Kari didn't particularly care what Ashmedai was or wasn't, he could tell; all she cared about was his hands and lips, and the absolute havoc they were raising with her body. Which was as it should be. "You know," he murmured into the warm skin of her throat, right where the pulse beat, "you hardly even know me."
"I don't usuallymmmmm," she said, her voice dissolving into a purr as he nipped her throat. "Don't usually do this--"
"You're not feeling guilty, surely," he said, his voice only just audible.
She didn't answer; he licked her throat, the tip of his tongue barely touching her soft, warm skin, making her shiver. He walked his fingers down her body, opening her shirt and letting his fingertips tease her nipples to hardness. The cold air outside the nightclub helped, but he was certain most of it came from his touch. "Talk to me, little one," he said. "If you don't, I might think you don't love me anymore, and go away."
"How can I love you?" she asked. "I've only just met you--" The words trailed off into a low, shuddering moan as he pinched and twisted her nipples. She arched against him pleasure at his touch.
"So it's just lust then," he said, smiling into her throat, nipping again. "Well, I can certainly live with that."
Her hands buried themselves in his hair, and she lifted his head, kissed him hungrily, greedily - or was it gluttony rather than greed, Ashmedai wondered in the back of his mind. Greed for material wealth, gluttony for food. Ardenter, for eating too eagerly--he brought his mind back on the job. Not that it was a hardship; Kari was so sweet, such a tender little morsel....
He pushed her backwards until her back was against the wall, cold brick.
"Here--" she gasped. "Not here--"
"Here or nowhere, kitten," he said, and pushed her skirt up to her hips. His fingers strayed to her inner thigh, then inside her panties, finding the wetness there. "Want me to stop? Let you go back inside to the club?"
"Nooo...Ash, please...."
"Here, then," Ashmedai said. He gripped her panties in both hands and yanked once, twice; the side-seams gave way easily, and the thin, lacy little garment fell to the ground. She cried out as though he'd torn her instead of her panties, and again when he took her hands and guided them to his belt buckle.
"You know what to do," he said, and kissed away any protest she might have made; his fingers guided hers in undoing the belt buckle for a moment. But then, when he moved one of his hands to exploring between her legs, her fingers suddenly flew, undoing the buckle and the button fly, and seeking within.
"That's my girl," he said, and slid a finger inside her. Her head went back, eyes closed, and she moaned, hips moving as he finger-fucked her. Not for long, though; he let her have some pleasure out of it, then removed his finger. Before she could do more than open her mouth, he'd lifted her, pinning her against the wall again, her feet not touching the ground. She reached down, fingers wrapping around his shaft; he thrust, she guided him into her, and cried out as he penetrated her - the full measure, filling her, in one swift, smooth stroke.
