From my very first taste of Ethan, I'd known I was hooked.

I was an addict, after all, and it had never really mattered what it was - booze, boys, drugs, danger – I always just knew when I'd found what I needed, and that first hit was always everything. There's a wave of emotion that lifts you up to the Heavens and drags you all the way back down into Hell, and then you get addicted to that too. To the high and the low, because as deep as your addictions can bury you, you know that the next time you rise up, it's going to be spectacular. Euphoric.

The best fucking hit of your life.

I'd never really been that bothered about trying to deny my addictions before. Why would I? They were the fire in my veins that set aflame the ghosts of my childhood. With each pill, each line of coke, I watched the ghosts burn. With each sweaty, grubby moment of passion with a nameless guy that couldn't get enough of me, I rejoiced as the fire consumed everything. With every drink that sent me spiralling into oblivion, I just raised my glass to the flames and downed it.

With Ethan, things had been different.

I'd wanted to deny it. I'd tried to pretend that the touch of his lips upon mine and the taste of him on my tongue hadn't gotten under my skin. I'd tried to ignore the things he had said which still lingered in my head.

I'm in fucking awe of you.

He was different, and I wasn't even talking about the fact he was a demon – after all, let's face it, I'd never shagged one of those before, not to my knowledge anyway – but because he didn't see me the way everyone else did. He didn't see me the same way in which I saw myself. Instead of wanting to use him to help smother all the nasty shit that came with my existence, I'd found myself just wanting him. No agenda. No grand masterplan to self-medicate. Just him.

As I leant forward to kiss him again, he pulled back slightly and raised one hand, a gesture that looked almost defensive, as if he was warding me off. He didn't push me away, but instead was holding me at bay. He looked into my eyes. I could see he was torn between doubt and longing. He wanted me, but he didn't believe me. Searching my face, a small frown tugged on his forehead.

'Why aren't you disgusted?' he whispered. 'You should be repulsed by this face, these hands...'

I touched the hand he held up, brought it to my lips and kissed the blackened fingertips.

'You mean, like this hand?' I murmured. I kissed down to his palm, let my mouth brush lazily over the skin. A small audible breath escaped his lips as he watched me, half-hypnotised. 'I happen to like this hand. I remember how it felt when you touched me with this hand,' I said.

'Not this hand,' he argued.

'Yes,' I insisted, lifting my head again and linking my fingers with his. 'This hand.' I reached out with my other hand and touched his cheek, tracing the outline of his mouth with my thumb. 'This face. This mouth. It's still you, Ethan, and I still want you.'

Glancing over his shoulder, I chewed gently on my bottom lip, an idea forming that I knew could either go totally pear-shaped and sting like a bitch, or it just might work.

I stood up and walked over to where the makeshift bed was in the corner. With my back to him, I leant against the wall with one hand, using the other to unlace my boots and removed them, followed by my socks. I felt the prickle of his gaze upon me as I took off my jacket, throwing it down by my boots. The shirt came next as I peeled it from my shoulders. The air in the room was surprisingly warm on my skin, but the goose-bumps rose regardless, a rush of what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-Brogan zinging through me, as I unbuttoned my jeans and slowly pushed them down over my hips.

He hadn't moved. I could tell. There was no movement in the air behind me, and if it weren't for the fact I could still hear his ragged breathing, and the weight of his gaze upon me, I might have thought I was alone in this small, barren room.

Taking off the jeans, I dropped them to the pile of discarded clothes slowly building in the corner and I stepped onto the mattress. My mouth was dry. Why was my mouth so bloody dry? I swallowed back the nagging doubt, the one that told me I was a fool, the one that told me he'd leave me standing here in the underwear he had stolen for me – which had been a surprisingly classy choice for a bloke, Davey would have chosen something more pornstar-chic – and I turned to face in his direction.

Ethan was sitting with his back poker-straight against the wall, as if it was the only thing holding him up. His knees were drawn into his chest, his arms were braced by his side and his palms were flat against the floor, veins protruding on the backs of his hands with the tension. His obsidian eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open.

I felt instantly stupid. Exposed. He'd rejected me once already, hadn't he? Blokes didn't do that. Not with me. I offered, they took. That's just how it was. Most wouldn't even have waited for me to take off my shirt. They'd have been there, grabbing, touching, hands desperate for flesh, hard-ons desperate for the fuck. I was used to that, but not this.

He was looking at me though. His gaze flickered over me and I burned where it touched, my body on fire with embarrassment and want.

Seconds crawled by. Seconds that stretched and stretched, each one a kick in the gut to the Casey Brogan I had once been. Coked-up Casey would have shrugged this off, laughed at him, told him he was the missing the ride of his fucking life, but then again, Coked-Up Casey wouldn't have still be standing here in designer silk. By now she'd have been on her back, tasting the brief thrill and waiting for the inevitable disappointment to come.

Just when I thought I was going to have to hide under the covers and make some jokey quip about needing some sleep, Ethan edged away from the wall. It was a tiny movement, so slight that at first, I wondered if maybe I'd imagined it, but I saw it, I saw how his shoulders dropped and the way the bone-brittle tension seeped slowly out of his hands.

He shifted again, an unmistakable move this time, and he leant forward, easing his body onto his hands and knees, his eyes still brimming with uncertainty, but never leaving mine as he inched closer. My toes curled into the mattress as he drew nearer, crawling towards where I stood. There was no determination in his approach. No flick of a switch that laid waste to his doubts. If anything, he looked like a wounded animal, dragging itself back to its lair, but he was dragging himself back and that's what I had to remind myself as he reached me.

Raising himself onto his knees, he shuffled closer and rested his head against my bare stomach, wrapping his arms around the small of my back. I could feel his warm breath on my skin, still coming in ragged rasps, the electricity of his touch coursing through me. We'd done nothing – nothing – and yet it was all I could do to stifle the moan I knew was building in my throat. Just the feeling of his strong arms around me, the weight of his head pressed against my stomach, the knowledge that there was just one layer of silk between me and that mouth, those hands. I was becoming undone and I wanted the seconds to crawl by now. I wanted this feeling to last forever.

I touched his head, running my fingers through his short dark hair, stroking it, pulling on it gently and he groaned then, lifting his face so that his nose and mouth were pressed against my stomach. His arms unlocked from around me and he moved his hands to rest them on my hips, holding onto me as he began to brush his open mouth over the skin above my belly button. It was the softest of touches, a stroke so feather-light, and yet the heat raged through me like a fireball, nerve endings left aflame in its wake.

Looking down at him, I could see that his eyes were closed, and as he pressed his mouth against my stomach, I could feel his lashes tickling my skin. He'd never struck me as the eyes-closed kind of guy, not that I'd had many of that type, mind you, and Ethan certainly wasn't like the guys I had slept with before, but still, I'd always gotten the sense there was a boldness to him. A confidence. An arrogant swagger that came with the knowledge of his own power. This wasn't him.

I dropped onto my knees in front of him and he instantly lowered his head slightly. I knew what he was doing, and I hated it. I hated that he felt he had to hide his eyes from me.

'Stop it,' I whispered, turning his face towards mine. His look of shame stabbed me hard in the chest, piercing my heart. 'I want to see them.' I pressed my lips gently against his. Another kiss. Another taste. I drew back and smiled. 'I want to see everything.'

He leant forward and captured my mouth with his. Him this time. He initiated it, and the heart in my chest that had ached for him, sung like a chorus of birdsong, as I felt his tongue moving against mine, tentatively at first, and then with the same hunger I was feeling. It was raw and animal and so fucking beautiful that when he pulled back, I could barely breathe for wanting more.

Our faces were just inches apart and in the centre of his eyes, where the light burned the brightest, I saw the same fire that was raging through me. I understood why he would think people would be frightened by his true form. I imagined to some it probably would seem terrifying, especially with the dried blood streaking down from his temple, but I could only look at his face and see him. I could only see the man who had set my world alight from the moment we had met. The man who saw beneath the rot.

'When will you ever stop surprising me?' he asked, softly. 

I pushed his jacket back off his shoulders, tugging it off his arms and throwing it to the floor with my clothes. I liked that. I liked the idea of seeing his clothes in a twisted jumble with mine. There was a strange rightness to it, something which Coked-Up Casey would have scoffed at, because back then any bloke that gave her a sense of rightness would have sent her running for the hills. Step one, piling your clothes together on the floor. Step two, sharing a wardrobe. Step three would have been two coffee mugs by the kettle in the morning, kisses before work, discussions about what to have for dinner. Boring, monotonous normality and I'd never wanted normality. I'd just wanted a million ways to drown myself, a million ways to keep running. Until now.

'Funny you should say that,' I replied, reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head. 'I'm even surprising myself these days.'

I let my fingertips wander down the hard lines of his chest, noting the old scars that patterned his skin with a silvery sheen. His stomach twitched under my touch as I kept going. When I found the button of his jeans and snapped it undone, he didn't stop me this time, but I glanced back to his face regardless, wanting to know that this was okay, that he was okay. He wore a strange expression, one that I couldn't quite read, and just when I thought he'd changed his mind, he reached up and cupped my face in his palms. His thumbs brushed my cheekbones, his fingers moving into my hair and he tilted my head back, exposing my throat.

He pressed his mouth against my skin, just below my jawline, following it with a more fervent trail of kisses over my neck, turning my head slightly so he could reach my ear where he nipped gently on my lobe. I did moan then, unable to stop it any longer. A delicious shiver travelled across my shoulders, down my spine, between my thighs, reaching right to the tips of my fingers and my toes. Ethan's lips caressed my throat all the way to my other ear and as he sucked gently on the skin just below it, he deftly unhooked my bra at the back, stopping his kisses only to pull the silky garment off me and throw it aside.

I dropped back onto the bed, propping myself up with my elbows. I liked the hot touch of his eyes on my body, the way his stare lingered hungrily on my breasts, the way it travelled down to where my silk knickers still remained. I trailed my foot up his thigh, resting it on the opening of his jeans, just above his hardened crotch.

'You forgot something,' I teased, wriggling my toes as I let my foot slip downwards. Fuck, he was hard. I exhaled, probably a little too loudly from the way his brow arched with amusement.

'As did you,' he remarked.

With a shrug, I lifted my bum up a little and pushed the knickers down over my hips, pulling them off and chucking them onto the pile. I lay back again, enjoying the way his eyes had widened, how his lips had parted, the sigh of pleasure he'd been unable to suppress, just as I'd been unable to suppress mine.

'Quid pro quo, Drake,' I said, with a wink and nudged at his crotch again.

'Quid pro what?' he said.

'Quid-pro-quo,' I replied, annunciating each word. 'A favour for a favour.'

His smile broadened. 'Oh, so we're doing each other favours now, are we?'

'Uh-huh.' I nodded. 'Your turn.'

Shifting slightly so he could sit down, he removed his boots and socks, kicking them away with his now-bare feet. Standing up at the end of the bed, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans which hung low on his hips. He began to push them down until I saw the tops of his thighs, the dark trail of hair at the base of his stomach, and then he hesitated, looking at me and biting down on his lip as if his thoughts had stopped him in his tracks.

'Are you sure you really want to see everything?' he said, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.

There he was. The arrogant, cocksure demon who was as quick with his wit, as he was with his air-manipulating powers.

'Why?' I said, all wide-eyed mock-innocence. 'What else are you hiding from me?'

'Well, I'd hate to let you monopolise all the surprises.'

I laughed. 'My expectations are sky-high now, you know.'

'Fuck,' he said, exhaling a hiss. 'Should have kept my bloody mouth shut.'

'Are you going to take those things off or am I going to have to start by myself?'

He smiled, cocking his head to the side as his gaze travelled down my thighs again. 'You know, that's a really foolish thing to suggest to a demon. We're quite the voyeurs.'

'Me too,' I shot back. 'But not right now, yeah? Later.'

His inky-black eyes swallowed me up whole. 'Deal?'

'Deal.'

I wasn't sure that making deals with demons was a particularly smart move either, but in this case, I was prepared to accept all responsibility for that deal. It seemed right up there with how good his body had felt pressed up against mine in the bathroom, right up there with how it had felt to have him kiss my throat and definitely right up there with watching him take off those damn jeans, which he did right then, without any hint of his previous self-consciousness.

Of course, he had nothing to be self-conscious about.

I raised myself up a little higher on my elbows, drinking in the sight of him, desperate to satiate this thirst that was consuming me. I'd never wanted anyone like this before. I'd never felt so much like my whole body was screaming with desire.

Holding out his arm out straight to one side, he dangled his jeans and boxers in the air, letting them drop from his hand onto the floor. He was enjoying this now, letting the demon take over, but I didn't care. The teasing was a turn-on. The way he was looking at me was a turn-on.

Dropping to his knees at the bottom of the bed, he crawled up until he was over me, his hands positioned either side of my shoulders. Leaning down, his lips found mine again, and he kissed me deep, hard, licking his lips afterwards as if he was savouring the taste just as I was. Again, and again he kissed me, and my hands snaked into his hair, holding him there, not wanting him to stop. I tried to wrap my legs around him, to pull him against me – fuck, I needed to feel him against me - but he resisted, keeping the small distance between us, clearly all part of his teasing game from the way he smiled wickedly as he broke off from the kiss.

Far from feeling the burn of frustration, each long lingering second that he kept himself from me just added to the intensity and increased the mouth-watering anticipation which turned every one of his kisses into a tidal wave of pleasure culminating between my legs.

Moving down, his lips brushed my neck again, nuzzling at me gently, nipping along my collarbone. I watched as he went further still, glancing up at me once before taking one of my nipples into his mouth. I gasped, arching my back, unable to keep still as he moved from one to the other, sometimes lapping at me with long languid strokes of his tongue, then sucking, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to cause my hips to buck up, desperate to feel him between my legs. His breath was coming faster again, hot upon my skin, and when I scratched my nails across his shoulders, he groaned against my breast and I smiled, knowing that this game of his was driving him just as crazy as it was me.

His mouth found my stomach, his hair tickling my navel. As he moved between my legs, I lifted myself onto my elbows again. I had to watch him. I needed to watch him. I wanted to watch as he slid his demon's fingers between my thighs. I wanted to watch as he kissed me there, his obsidian eyes meeting mine as he relished the taste of me on his tongue.

He shot me a small, lazy smile, almost as if he just knew, and slipped a finger inside. I groaned as he slid it gently in and out, my momentary disappointment fading quickly when he withdrew, only to replace it with two fingers. I began to move my hips and he caught my rhythm, fucking me with his hand in perfect timing with my upward thrusts. It was perfect. Utter fucking perfection and I could hardly believe I was so close to losing it already.

Realising that my trembling arms weren't going to hold me up for much longer, I dropped back onto the bed, balling the blanket into my fists, whimpering as he withdrew his fingers, caressing me with his thumb. There was a whisper of breath on my thigh and I held my own, releasing it in a long, bliss-filled sigh as he used his tongue to gently part my lips, slowly running it upwards until it reached my clît. This wasn't going to last. I knew it as soon as he kissed me there. I was too close to the edge already and I had to let go.

'Fuck,' I groaned, annoyed with my lack of control.

Ethan raised his head to look at me questioningly, clearly detecting the frustrated tone in my voice, but as soon as I saw those eyes, so deeply black, so full of hunger, I knew it didn't matter.

'Please,' I urged. 'Quick.'

He increased the friction immediately, seemingly so attune to what my body needed, attune to what I needed, that I cried out and my clît began to throb deliciously with the pressure of his tongue. He worked faster, deeper, gripping my hips, until I finally let go, bucking and shuddering against his mouth, my shallow breaths loud in the confines of the small room. He kept his mouth on me until it was over, moving only to press small kisses on my thighs, my stomach, over my breasts until he was above me again, brushing his lips against mine. I could taste myself on his tongue.

I had to touch him. Had to. Reaching down, I took his length in my hand, loving the way he groaned against my mouth, loving the way he moved with the motion of my hand. Breaking off from the kiss, I moved my head so I could look down, thrilled by the sight of him in my hand. He nuzzled at the side of my face, his breaths rasping against my ear. I nudged on his shoulder, pushing him gently away so I could get a better view and he moaned louder, a low guttural growl vibrating in his throat, as he pulled out of my grasp with a sharp exhale.

'What did I do?' I stared at him wide-eyed, wondering what the fuck I had done, but he just smiled and shook his head, pressing his lips against mine in a long, lingering kiss that took my breath away once again.

'Turns out we demons aren't so different from your human males,' he said. 'We have no bloody patience.'

'Oh,' I whispered, realising what he meant. 'Good thing really.'

'You too?' He raised a brow.

'Fuck yes.'

With a grin, he sat up, kneeling between my thighs where I could still feel the touch of his mouth on my skin. He looked so fucking good in the dim light from the lamp, as he knelt there, his hands gripping onto my hips. His eyes seemed to glint dangerously, that alluring fire illuminating the oily-blackness and sending a thrill coursing through me as he took himself in his own hand, pushing against the spot where I ached for him, more than I had ached for anyone in my life. I urged him on, arching my back, as he thrust deep inside me.

For a moment, he didn't move, just remained there, as deep as he could go, and he reached up, thumbing my hardened nipple.

The wait – although just a few seconds – was agonising, delicious, a masochistic thrill that spread the heat outwards from between my thighs, up my body, to my nipple which he was now teasing gently with his fingers. I could have stayed like this, knowing that he was filling me completely, knowing that this was the hit I had been waiting for my whole life.

He lowered himself on top of me, lifting my thigh so I could wrap my leg around his waist, getting the angle just right – making me gasp as I felt it right there – and he kissed me again. I'd never been much of a kisser, not because I wasn't any good at it, but because it had just never been my thing. Everything else had been fine, but kissing? I could always take it or leave it, and yet with Ethan, I relished his kisses, felt addicted to them and whenever his lips left mine, I felt the withdrawal instantly like a yearning in my veins. When he drew back, I was sure he felt it too, because he bent down and kissed me again, hungrier this time, his hips grinding against me.

I lifted my other leg and hooked my ankles together behind his bum, urging him deeper with each thrust. Deeper. Faster. He lifted himself up, one hand braced by my head on the mattress, the other pushing against the wall behind me. Perspiration glistened on his chest and I ran my fingertips down it, reaching down between us to grip him at the base of his côck. As he pulled back from each thrust, I squeezed. He groaned, blinking once, his obsidian eyes consuming me as he moved faster, with more purpose, the intensity building, and I knew he was close now. I went to pull my hand away, not wanting to obstruct his flow, but he shook his head.

'Casey,' he breathed, his lips capturing mine, his words tingling over my skin. 'No, don't stop.'

And so, I didn't. I kept my hand there, feeling every thrust, feeling myself hot and wet and so fucking ready to let go again that I couldn't take it anymore.

'Fucking Hell,' I moaned as he moved harder against me, inside me.

My thighs tightened around his waist and my free hand clutched at his back, my nails scraping his sweat-drenched skin. 

The heat imploded, the force of it almost taking me by surprise because I felt it so deep, waves of pleasure erupting outwards as I came, pulsating in a rapture so high that I was sure I'd never come down from it. With a gasp, he thrust deeper, the base of his côck throbbing violently as he came too, and I was still there with him, still feeling it, still shuddering against him, now almost senseless with pleasure as the orgasm took its hold of both of us.

Letting go of the wall, he buried his face into my neck, still moving inside me, whispering my name over and over and I got lost in the sound of his voice, lost in the hazy warmth of his body.

I was vaguely aware of the lamp flickering in the corner, the dull bulb fading, darkening, filling the room with shadow, before brightening again, but I didn't worry about it this time. It could flicker until the glass shattered for all I cared.

Wrapped in his arms, with his body pressed against mine, his hot ragged breath on my neck, I knew I had finally found the one thing that actually could make the world shatter, so what did I care about one bulb?

I'd found the one thing that could make the Earth quake beneath my feet. I'd found the high I'd been searching for.

Ethan had made the stars explode from the sky.

Every single damn one.

*****

Author's Note:

Hello dear readers,

It's been a bloody long time since I've written a scene like this. I have no idea whether I did it justice. I have no idea whether I did Casey and Ethan justice. I hope so, even if just a little bit, because they deserve it, right? As usual, the last 1000 words were a total killer, hence why I'm uploading at stupid o'clock as always. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and, if you did, please be so kind as to hit the vote button and leave a comment. Your support means the world and Hedoschism definitely needs your help in keeping it visible for new readers to find it.

Huge thanks and kisses go to my musical guru and writer goals friend @ScarletteDrake for providing the song recommendation to accompany this chapter. If you can't access the You Tube video due to country restrictions, the song is Fade Into You by Mazzy Star <3

Thank you all for reading, my lovelies <3