The following day, he emailed her, asking her if she had a good night...
What a fabulous invention email was! Any enterprising daemon took advantage of being able to spread his insidiousness as quickly as possible. It had been through the Internet that he'd located her... or she, him.
Her reply was quick; confirming that she'd had the most delicious dream of him. He was amused that he knew her so well, and his pleasure was tangible in the reply he sent. It detailed what he would do to her, how he would touch her, how he wanted to feel her flesh against his, and taste her mouth, skin, breasts, and pussy. He knew it would drive her wild with insatiable desire, priming her for his taking this evening.
"Yes," he thought as a nefarious grin overtook his face, "Tonight is her night. A night she will never forget."
He wanted to watch as she read his erotic email, knowing she would be unable to resist touching herself after taking in his words. He wanted to see the shock, fear, and excitement cross her delicate features when he appeared in her bedroom. He wanted her to know that he was not of this world, not what she expected--merely a man pretending to be a demon--but the real deal. He wanted her to understand fully what she had gotten herself into, whom she had invited into her life, her bedroom, and her body.
Her fear would only heighten his desire, and perhaps her own if he had read her right. She had long been closed off to the world, hiding her light from those around her. She pretended to be an average divorcee, spending her days in a mindless routine of job, housework, and sleep. She had once been a creator--an artist, a poet, a writer--but she had stopped years ago, sliding into an emotional coma, letting her talent fade. When she had come across him, she had been distraught with frustration. Her creativity and inner life had been stifled for so long, she was nearly exploding with the need to live again.
He had sensed her need immediately and drawn her out, sparking not only her creativity, but also her passion, her lust, and fed upon them, encouraging her to express more, to give herself over to them. She had blossomed into the animate, inspired creature he lusted for today. While her despair had been sweet, her enthusiasm and talent made her an irresistible conquest. And conquer he would. Thoroughly, utterly, and completely.
She would be his and his alone.
He transported himself, unseen, into her bedroom that evening, admiring her as she dried her hair. Just out of the shower, she was fresh-faced and a beauty to behold. As much as he appreciated her polished, made-up look, this clean, natural look made him hunger for her even more.
She finished towel drying her hair and began applying lotion to her still damp body, rubbing the vanilla scented lotion into her legs. Xaemyl felt his cock respond to the sight of her hands running over the smooth, clean skin of her legs, and he ached to take her right then...ached for it to be his hands massaging the lotion into her flesh.
By the time she had applied the lotion to her arms and shoulders, Xaemyl was nearly blind with lust, requiring all of his self-control to restrain himself. As she filled her hand with more of the vanilla-scented cream, intent on lotioning her chest, breasts and stomach, Xaemyl struggled to maintain that restraint, knowing that he could not hold back much longer, but wanting this taking to go according to his plan. He had to keep control over the situation--over all situations, but especially this one. She had to be under his control, not the other way around. He could never risk that. He never imagined it could be a risk. This was a new element in the game.
Lotioning complete, she sat on her bed and turned her computer on, the look of eagerness on her face undeniable. Xaemyl chuckled silently, knowing it was he she was eager to hear from. Hear from him, she would... in ways she never imagined.
