Dancing for Her Demon by Cynthia Sax

Chapter One
     
    She’s finally mine . Julian took the steps two at a time, excitement shimmering through his big form. He clasped the duffel bag containing the proof of his worth, his knuckles whitening around the leather handle.
    “Welcome back, Mr. Julian.” The Magnus Mansion’s gargoyle butler held the huge front door open, his expression stony. “The master is in his study.”
    “Thank you, Diorite.” Julian stalked through the house, his dress shoes soundless on the tiled floor.
    Larissa fell into place behind him, her lithe form concealed by the shadows, fabric rasping against her soft skin. Julian slowed, achingly attuned to her movements, every inch of him aware of her. They’d always been connected. Larissa the only female who reached his soul, transferred the constant rage inside him into pure passion.
    “I know you’re tracking me, angel.” He breathed deeply, the scent of her, a combination of caramel and musk, filling his nostrils. His body hardened, his cock pressing against the zipper of his black pants.
    “How are the strip clubs in New York?” Her slender fingers slid along his palm and her long, straight brown hair brushed against his arm, a white ribbon weaved through the strands. She pointed her toes gracefully as she moved, showing off her shapely calves and trim ankles, her walk refined from years of ballet practice.
    “They are profitable.” Julian closed his calloused fingers around her hand, holding her to him. “Your father made a good investment there.”
    “I’m glad. I recommended those purchases.” Larissa tilted her head, gazing up at him with her big brown eyes, and Julian yearned to melt into her, to forget the fighting and the demon turf wars and lose himself in her embrace. Soon . “Dad does know how to run strip clubs, but then he is a lust demon.” Her plush lips quirked into an endearingly lopsided smile. “Tempest thinks I can dance as well as any of Fallen’s strippers.”
    Julian groaned softly, the erotic images of Larissa dancing, when she thought he hadn’t been watching, burned in his memory for all time. “And how does Tempest know how well the strippers at Fallen dance?” Valens guarded Larissa’s hell-raising half-sister as zealously as Julian guarded his more serene Larissa.
    Larissa’s bottom lip curled into a sexy pout. “We’re no longer children, Julian, even though you treat us like we are.” She stuck out her chest, her breasts high and firm and succulent.
    Julian’s mouth watered as he hungered for a taste. Touching Larissa was forbidden until he proved his worth to her powerful father. The lust demon watched his daughters closely, recognizing the appeal of their innocence.
    “We’re women of the world,” Larissa declared, tossing her head back, her hair rippling like silk behind her. “Other males recognize that.”
    “If other males do more than recognize that, those other males will die.” Julian allowed his eyes to glow red, punctuating his point. Too soon, they reached the study’s closed doors. “Wait here, angel.” He gently squeezed her hand. “I have business with your father.” He reluctantly released her.
    “I’ll wait, but not forever, Julian.” She jutted her pointed chin, stubbornness written all over her beautiful face.
    In mere minutes, he’d be able to kiss those downturned lips, wrap those long dancer legs around his waist, and find paradise in her embrace. Julian pushed through the doors. Magnus sat behind his huge mahogany desk, a pile of paperwork in front of him, a pen in his beefy hands. He didn’t look up, but Julian knew the formidable lust demon was aware of his presence.
    “Your rival is dead.” Julian stalked toward the desk, unzipped the duffel bag, and plunked the severed head onto the desk -- the dead demon’s mouth was open, his eyes wide with surprise. “I’ve completed the last task, and I’ve waited long enough. Larissa is mine.”
    Magnus continued to sign contracts, scratching his