Page 12 of Chained to the Devil's Daughter

“Then I would say, we better still be good at being quiet.”

“We?” He brushed my nose with his. “You were never good at it.”

“We were never caught, were we?”

“Only because I knew when you needed your pretty, whiny mouth stuffed with cock. Among other things.”

“You can’t take all the credit,” I huffed a quiet laugh, studying the curve of his smile. “Sometimes I told you that I needed a mouthful.”

“Yes, princess, you were very vocal.” He dragged my waist to his, the air between us steamy. “Which is exactly the topic at hand.”

I yelped as he hoisted me with ease, carrying me across the room to the mattress. He sat on the long side, my knees settling to either side of his hips. It was a rather soft mattress, fluffy like it was full of imported goose feathers.

“Do you remember this?” His hands roved my back, our hips dancing. He tangled a hand in my hair and clamped onto my neck, all but drinking me down like a starving vampire. “All of our best conversations.”

I laughed, my body taking the sound as an encouragement to tango with his even further, sinking until the flimsy towel did nothing to hide his growing bulge. “I remember. It’s a wonder we ever completed a conversation.”

“Why’s that?” He grinned with that wicked mouth, and all it took was a twitch of my hips to make him groan. “You’re right.”

“As always.” Pleased, I pressed my breasts against his damp chest and ghosted a breath below his ear.

He groaned and fell back, eyes closed, his fingers digging into my love handles. “It’s no wonder we fucked like we were ready for a litter.”

I scoffed a laugh. “Rings, thank the flames that never happened.”

He growled and opened one eye to peer up at me. “In due time, our pups will fill these halls.” A blush raced hot up my neck and he chuckled. “Sometimes I forget how sweet you are.”

“Sweet?” I scoffed and swept a disdainful hand toward the vanity drawer that hid an array of toys. “Tell that to all our little friends.”

“Woman, I’ve not escaped the tower only to die by orgasm.”

I laughed and collapsed onto him, managing to still my hips but not to refrain from squeezing his bicep. His hands massaged into my scalp and I released an animalistic moan.

“I’m glad my pain is so humorous, but please, be still unless you wish to relieve me.” He’d meant it as a joke, but one palm flattened on my lower back.

I froze. Suddenly, the weight of reality was great enough to snap each vertebra of my spine. Here I was, pretending everything had returned to my brain’s standard for normal, simply because Ashr’en was home. Not once had I truly considered the impact this would have on him. Not to mention the way he may feel when he gets to know the real me.

I tried to lift my head, but he placed pressure on my scalp.

“Not yet.” His tone was soft. Like the infuriating demon somehow felt my reticence. “Please.”

I breathed deeply, opting to draw circles along his rough-hewn pec. After a long pause, I whispered, “I wish. . .”

He kissed the top of my head. “I know.”

I eased out of his grasp. He sat up with me, his hands grazing up and down my thighs. “Temporary. Only for a few weeks, when I can officially make you mine.”

He shrugged. “I can handle that.”

“There’s one more thing I’d ask.”

“Anything.”

“I’m not who I was,” I breathed, biting the tip of his nose when he started to protest. “I’m not afraid you won’t love me, but. . . I think a slow and steady pace would ease my worries.”

“I agree.”

“I—wait, pardon?”

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