Page 72 of Dating the Dealing Demon

“You won’t,” I seethe. “I realize I have a long way to go to earn your trust with kidnapping you, dragging you into a hell dimension, and forcing you to be my mate, but you’re mine. My bride. My destiny. Mate.”

She scowls at me. “You didn’t force me to do anything. Don’t kid yourself into thinking you have that kind of power over me.”

What? Some of my rage fades. How had I been so wrong to believe I made Val Bonetti doanythingshe didn’t want to do? “Let’s see exactly what kind of power I hold over you.”

She scratches at me, snarling and snapping so fiercely she might outdo any she-demon. “Zero. Zilch. You have exactly no power over me.”

“Is that right? Then why is your pretty cunt wet for me?”

Her eyes flare, and she curls her lip. But I don’t miss the flush crawling across her face, down her neck, and disappearing into the neckline of the black, shapeless blouse hiding those perfect breasts from me.

I lean over her, snaking my tail up to pin her hands above her head. With my claws, I rip into the silky top but not the lab coat. No, that I leave. The damn thing has plagued my filthiest fantasies. The scent of her desire and the feel of her writhing beneath me has my pulse quickening.

She lifts her knee, going for one or both of my cocks, but I avoid the blow easily.

“You arrogant, despicable?—”

“Demon, darling.” I chuckle. “That’s the word you’re looking for.”

Val glares, and the sheen of angry tears glisten in her eyes.

Just like that, my amusement slips from me like the frayed threads of a life I have to leave behind. One where I knew my path. One where I put my family before all others. One where Val wasn’t the center of my existence.

I’ll love my mate until she’s forced to love me back. I’ll accept nothing less. And it starts now, in this bed.

This time, neither of us will be walking away.

Not until I remind her that she is my mate.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Val

Iwant him.

I hate him.

My body wants him.

I hate him.

My bodycraveshim.

I.

Hate.

Him.

Except Theo looks at me, really looks at me, like he knows everything about me, and not the fakemeI’ve spent years perfecting for the show, my family, the world.

I loathe how much he makes me rage.

How much I want him to stay this time.

How much I need him to say I’m enough. That I’m more than enough. And not because of some stupid destiny thing.

That hechoosesme.

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