Page 20 of Where Exorcists Cannot Lie

Damn Inuel. He managed to wring a full-on grin out of me.

“Make sure he’s not flea-ridden,” I couldn’t resist teasing. “Or else he’s sleeping in the garden.”

Inuel came as close to gasping in indignation as I’d ever witnessed him do. “Tazzik doesn’t have fleas like some common cat. He’s extremely clean and very smart besides. I’m going to start brushing him from tomorrow. He can have my hairbrush.”

I shook my head and giggled. “Get a load of that. A big bad demon smitten beyond belief. I’ve read in a scientific scroll somewhere that Alpha Demons only bond with spiritual animals upon reaching maturity. Must be a lot of bollocks,” I said.

Inuel regarded me, his expression sobering. “You know, Taz, I’d like to think I’ve changed a little since our time in Ghadarra.”

The seriousness of his tone had me shutting up. On reflection, I figured I might’ve been a tad unfair towards Inuel. I remembered how he pulled his weight around the house, took on heavy domestic duties of his own volition and, in general terms, exhibited what I could only describe as a courteous, patient and affectionate manner towards me. It somewhat contradicted my previous conviction he always looked out for his own gain and catered to himself alone. Another thing that occurred to me was that since we’d reunited, Inuel never once lied to me. Not a single time, about anything, trivia included. I couldn’t argue the same about myself.

I stared at him with my mouth slack.

Inuel lifted the basket by the handle and got up to set Tazzik’s basket on the floor in the corner. Warmth flooded my chest at the gentleness he employed to carry out the task.

“And talking about smitten.” Inuel sauntered over to the foot of the bed. “Don’t be jealous. I’m also quite taken with the big, well… the bigger Taz.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Like I care. And I’m not jealous,” I said and groaned in pain the next moment.

Inuel’s snicker carried a certain degree of malice. “Serves you right.”

He climbed on the mattress and crawled towards me on all fours, his deliberate, slow movements dripping with fluid grace. He dropped his chin, letting his loose hair sweep the quilt. In his stalking, he seemed himself feline-like. Predatory and menacing. Determined. His lips parted, and I caught a glint of his elongated canines. Inuel narrowed his eyes, gazing at me as if I were prey.

I watched him back, squirming against the backrest. I drew my knees closer to my chest, trying to take up as little space as possible, waiting and already wanting.

Inuel grabbed me by the ankles and yanked me halfway down the bed.

I found myself underneath him, a strand of his hair brushing my cheeks—the softest caress coupled with a hint of pashija fragrance.

Listening to my ragged breathing, I became hard and aching in an instant.

Inuel secured both of my wrists in his hand and forced them over my head. He lowered his face over mine and went straight for my right ear, tongue, teeth and all.

“I love these pointy little tips. They’re shaped just like shells. Peachy under my tongue and so firm to bite on. Mm. Delicious. I could eat them up.”

Inuel’s aural fixation went hand-in-hand with my high sensitivity in that area. I intended to respond, but my thoughts faded from my mind like puddles on a sunny day, and I uttered a long moan instead.

Inuel proved rather uninterested in holding a conversation either way, judging by how he claimed my mouth with his. I loved him like this—unsparing and inexorable—dominating the kiss until I lost what few wits I had left. He had me fevered in no time, incapable of anything else than clutching onto his shoulders as though they were my anchor.

He stripped me but his trousers stayed on, unlaced and pulled lower onto his hips. The contrast between my nakedness and his semi-clothed state thrilled me all the more.

As he worked me over with his fingers, I arched upwards in search of friction—any friction—that could bring some blessed relief to my engorged cock before I went berserk. But he wouldn’t have any of that, neither allowing me to rub against his taut stomach nor rush him. I could only gape at his tattoo-covered torso, pant and whimper, splayed on my back with my open legs in the air, the epitome of wanton and indecent.

At last, Inuel buried himself in me and started sliding in and out in a perfect rhythm, ramming right into that little cluster of nerves. It sent tingles to my extremities, flashes dancing in front of my eyes.

Right away, I could tell it would be yet another speedy round for the both of us.

Inuel managed to take it up a notch by whispering, “Gods, I want to knot you, Taz. I want to give you my knot so badly.”

The hesitation in his voice puzzled me. I failed to see what the hell constituted the obstacle. Did he not realise how much I longed for that? How much I had missed it?

I almost broke my tongue forming words in my frenzy. “Fuck, Inuel. Do it. Do it now.”

I barely finished speaking, and his cock—big to begin with—started to swell within me, growing larger and hotter still, pushing in against my insides and expanding all the more. Filling me to the brim, invading my most delicate and sensitive parts, escalating the scrumptious pressure until it became too pleasurable, too agonising and altogether just too much.

I spasmed around him once, twice, and then went off like a firecracker. It soon made two of us, as indicated by Inuel’s guttural growl and the feeling of wetness spreading beneath me.

After a while, and with his knot engulfed deep inside of me, he manhandled us both away from the damp spot and onto our sides.

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