Page 19 of Gift for a Demon

“What about drinking?”

Melchom shrugged, even if he couldn’t help but picture a certain human on his knees, gagging as he swallowed a different kind of liquid than what the boy had in mind. “You’re perfectly hydrated.”

Technically, he could procure the food and the water Dove was talking about. It was less effort not to, though, and it gave Melchom more of what he needed: control over him.

“Huh,” he heard Dove mutter.

“Before you try,” Melchom breathed against the back of his neck. It was easy to see the directions Dove’s scrambled thoughts were heading toward. “This deal doesn’t mean you can now start negotiating everything or making demands.”

“Of course.” Dove huffed. “I knew that.”

It was pretty clear that he didn’t know, but Melchom preferred not to mention it for the time being. He left Dove to scrub the toilet and obliged when his human asked for a rag to polish a bit of splatter that had fallen off the latrine.

“I’d just feel more comfortable if I knew what to expect.”

That was funny, Melchom mused.

“Kind of the point of making you fear for your life is that you won’t know what to expect, Dove.”

A frown etched into his expression, his new gift dropped the brush and turned to face him. It seemed rare that Dove dared to do as much. “You don’t know what fear play is? Seriously?”

Melchom paused.

He hadn’t seen much about kink in the human’s head, but that didn’t mean anything. He’d need days—weeks, maybe—to unravel the mystery of the young man’s mind.

“I know, Dove.”

“You really should just use my name.” He licked his lips. “The whole Dove thing is already getting tiring, and I’m not sure it’s getting you anywhere.”

Melchom smirked. Dove just loved displaying that bravado of his.

“It’s a good thing you’re not the one in charge here then.”

“Whatever.” His human sighed. “So, fear play?”

“What about it?”

Pretending not to know when the human asked something was hilarious. It infuriated his Dove to no end.

“Fear play is negotiated, and consented to, and it doesn’t take away from the experience.”

An experience that, Melchom was quick to note, the human didn’t possess.

“Doesn’t it?” Of course, the human didn’t have a response at the ready to Melchom’s question, but that was what Melchom was counting on. “I think the toilet is fine already.”

“Right,” the human mumbled. He was getting better at not stammering every few words. “So… now’s when you start scaring me.”

“Now’s when you take a bath.”

“Do I need baths?”

“No, but I like the smell.”

Melchom saw the way his human debated in his head. He wanted that bath so badly, but he was oh-so-self-conscious. In his head, he argued that the demon wasn’t going to leave him alone—he promised, he said—but that meant being naked next to him. A spike of lust flared through the human, one Melchom was more than happy to take note of.

“What am I supposed to wear?” The human fidgeted. “After I get out of the shower, I mean?”

“Do you think you’re going to be cold?”

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