Page 33 of Gift for a Demon

In Hell.

Not going there.

Dave made quick work of getting out of the straps and undoing the laces and tiny zippers. The second he was fully naked, he noticed that shift where his body stopped being his.

Someone was impatient, he noted once the shock faded and his heart went back to beating normally when he was inside the tub, on his knees between Melchom’s spread legs.

“Too slow for you?” Dave breathed out.

“Something like that.” The demon smirked.

Dave wondered if he had any other types of smiles in his repertoire, or if he was one of those people who only had one setting.

It was probably the latter.

“Touch me,” Melchom commanded, eyes flickering down to the just as impressive as the first time he’d laid eyes on it cock between his legs.

Dave swallowed. Trepidation and anxiety about its size churned within him before he dared to take the proverbial first step.

He trailed the length with his index finger, starting from the base. He noted the way Melchom’s muscles clenched, his hips bucking up for more of that touch.

It was more gratifying than it had any business being. It filled him with a sense of control, of power over the demon—power that wasn’t being taken away from him as he took his time exploring the veins and the darker skin of the soaked tip.

His fingers didn’t meet when he curled them around it, but Dave didn’t want to use two hands. It was hard enough already to stay balanced in the water, its tiny waves playing tricks on him. He imagined he wouldn’t fare well on a beach then. Dave refused to get sidetracked, or to show that he was. He could still wing it with one hand, even if it made him self-conscious. Regardless of Melchom’s little humiliation game taking over when Dave was touching himself, he’d just never been big on handjobs. When he was with someone else, he’d rather blow them, and when it was just himself, he’d rather use a couple of his trusty toys or go on a hookup app.

If he had the money for a therapist, he was sure they’d tackle all about why he couldn’t spend time with himself. Alas, his insurance only covered visits to the psych ward and follow up appointments with a psychiatrist. At least she was nice.

He’d actually miss her.

“You’re thinking too much.”

“And you notice it now?” Dave snarked.

Lots of people complained about him going off topic at the worst times. It made him recoil. He didn’t mean to stray, and it didn’t even mean he wasn’t into whatever else he’d been doing before. It was just another way in which his brain was wired differently.

Besides, he didn’t think he could be blamed, given the circumstances. He was still processing everything, right?

“You’re actually doing better than most humans.”

“Shut up.”

The fact that he was getting used to demons answering his thoughts was only slightly disturbing.

Melchom didn’t say anything to that, but he smirked.

“If you don’t want me to get distracted, you’ll have to do better than that.”

“Not a hardship,” Melchom murmured.

Shit.

Dave usually used bravado and snark as a coping mechanism. People around him didn’t just have an answer ready for it.

He wasn’t complaining. His cock was certainly not either as he was grabbed and manhandled until he was turned around, his back resting against the demon’s chest.

Dave swallowed. His heartbeat raced again as Melchom’s arm wrapped around the back of his legs, bending him until he was completely exposed.

“So… you had oils?”

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