Seduced By The Son Of A Succubus (m/m paranormal) by Violet Jessamy Page B

notice the small details, like the girl’s movements being just a little too smooth, her arms sometimes twisting as though she’d forgotten that she was supposed to have joints there.
    “Dude,” he said in warning, turning his head, “that’s a…”
    Thomas was gone.
    Milo cursed and stepped onto the dancefloor, guessing the direction Thomas would have taken. He scanned the dancing crowd for a sign of his friend.
    Suddenly, the near-darkness and the strobe lights were disorienting. The music pulsated through him and made him unsteady on his feet. Milo stopped, closed his eyes for just a moment to try and shake off the feeling. Maybe the alcohol he’d just downed was messing with him already.
    He blinked his eyes open again just to find himself staring straight at Rogue again.
    The other man was still some twenty feet away, surrounded by the wildly dancing crowd. He was flirting, had one hand in another man’s hair, which caused Milo’s heart to throb painfully. He couldn’t help but remember when Rogue had buried his hands in Milo’s hair, how good it had felt…
    Rogue turned, and then his eyes met Milo’s straight on.
    The other man seemed as shell-shocked by the sudden encounter as Milo was. He went still, the expression draining from his face.
    Unwelcome memories flooded Milo. He couldn’t seem to stench the flow of images and sensations of what had been. The taste of Rogue’s skin. The feeling of ice cold lips on his own. The overflowing desire that had filled him.
    The last time he had seen Rogue had been six years ago. His father had made a mistake - even though they were in their late teens now, he had assumed Rogue was still too young for his powers to be dangerous to Milo.
    He remembered drowning in those dark eyes. He remembered a clumsy first kiss that had evolved into something vastly more powerful. Now, he was certain that Rogue hadn’t understood what was happening any more than he had, back then. His dad hadn’t seen it that way though, when he had ripped them apart just in time to prevent Rogue from sucking the breath out of Milo’s lungs for good.
    And even though he should have been terrified, all Milo had felt was a desperate longing. Even now, he still dreamed of those dark eyes every once in a while and woke drenched in sweat and throbbing with desire.
    Milo turned and ran. Blindly, he barreled through the crowd, found an exit from the dancefloor, made for the closest bathroom.
    Running cold water over his wrists did little to cool the fire in his veins, but it helped him regain control of himself. His feelings nearly overwhelmed him.
    Milo shuddered and splashed water into his face. He took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror - flushed skin, dilated pupils, lips that were starting to swell because he had been biting and chewing them without even realizing it. He was a pathetic sight.
    It had been so long. He hadn’t even known what had happened to Rogue after the H.O.S.T. had more or less established control of the demon population, whether he had fled like some, or been killed during the uprisings, like others. His father had refused to answer his questions. Milo had been left to struggle with his feelings all by himself. He still hadn’t sorted it all out.
    He sighed, turned away from his mirror image, and stopped an inch short of colliding with Rogue.
    Oh god.
    “Hey,” Rogue said, very softly. His voice was deep, smoky, brushed past Milo like a dark breeze. Sparkling black eyes captured Milo’s.
    Milo tried to reply, and found that he could not. The maddening desire that had filled him six years ago was back with a vengeance. It was utterly addicting, flooding him, pumping through his veins, heightening his senses. His body was getting a fix of its drug of choice after a long and painful period of withdrawal.
    Then Rogue reached out, brushed the side of Milo’s face with one cool fingertip, and the pathetic remainder of Milo’s self-control fizzled away. He lunged