Page 97 of Gift for a Demon

He groaned when he was tossed on the bed with little to zero finesse. He allowed it because Melchom healed his body right away—and because it was hot. Besides, Melchom didn’t cause him any real pain, really. He’d heard stories from Beel about demons who would break their gifts’ bones and rearrange them later.

Melchom only tossed him around places or left him with a few too many bruises.

“Dove…” Melchom’s nostrils flared. That always had his heart picking up speed. He’d soon learned Melchom meant business when he got all big and fuming. “Either you tell me, or I fuck it out of you.”

“Hmm.” He pretended to think about it. “I like it when you fuck things out of me. It’s good for my gut health.”

He laughed when Melchom was on him in one single leap, his hand curling around his throat.

“Last chance.”

“Are you hungry today?” Dove teased.

It was fun.

“For you?” Melchom smirked. Maybe he was starting to get this was all gameplay. “Always.”

“Good,” Dove breathed, his hand darting so it was buried in all that white, silky hair. “Do your worst then.”

“I plan to,” Melchom said. “Starting tomorrow.”

“What?”

Dove couldn’t get anything else out.

When he blinked his eyes open next, he was still on the bed, on his stomach. His demon had put him to sleep.

“Coming back, my Dove?” the fucker spoke against the back of his neck, the vibration making his skin break out in goosebumps.

Dove moaned. “How long?”

Sometimes he tried to guess. This time, he was more disoriented than usual. The giant cock sheathed inside his hole didn’t help matters.

“A couple of hours,” Melchom said. “I’d had a long day.”

“You were trying to get past the shield,” Dove guessed.

That would explain why he felt like he’d been out for a full day instead.

“Maybe.”

“Did you manage?”

Melchom’s silence was all the answer he needed. Smugness filled Dove.

Two seconds later, that smugness vanished, replaced by something else. It wasn’t the first time his ass had been used as a urinal, but it never failed to turn him on embarrassingly quickly.

“Clench your hole around me,” Melchom ordered. One day, Dove had retorted that he could do it himself. He wasn’t going to repeat the same mistake. “I don’t want one single drop on the bed.”

Clearing his throat, Dove nodded. “Not a drop.”

He grunted, feeling the acidic stream hitting his inner walls, sloshing around every time that Melchom shifted his angle slightly.

There was a slight curvature to his belly by the time the demon started pulling out. Dove panted, whimpers scattered around as he tried to get rid of that fog clouding him. He needed his wits with him, but it was impossible when his cock was so hard he was about to burst.

From a demon peeing in him.

This was his life now, too.

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