Page 69 of Bad Demon

Those gorgeous peridot eyes searched my face, looking for something—I didn’t fucking know what. “So, before, when I drank from you, when you laid close to me and watched me, did you just do that because you wanted to feel close to someone?”

“No. I wanted to feel close to you.”

Thankfully, she hadn’t left me to guess what she was thinking this time.

“But you don’t want me … that way? You don’t want me to use my hands or my mouth on you? You don’t want that from me?”

Her eyes went blank again, and I could literally see her pulling away, just not physically this time.

No way did I want her thinking that shit. “You felt how much I wanted you, Fern. You were fucking grinding on it, baby. I want you in every way there is. Never think otherwise.”

“Are you still … is your …”

“Am I still hard as fuck for you?” I rasped.

“Yes.”

I’d been keeping my hips back so I didn’t freak her out. “Yes.”

Her fingers brushed my stomach, and I hissed. She paused and tried to pull her hand away, but I covered it and put it back. She searched my eyes, and then, finally, she slid her hand lower. I stayed perfectly still while my female explored me. If that was what she needed, I would fucking breathe through it while she checked that I was telling her the truth. Why she had any doubt, I had no fucking idea. Her fingers grazed the head of my cock, and I fucking held my breath. She stayed on the outside of my underwear, and when she gripped my shaft through the fabric, I groaned low—there was no way I could hold it in.

She looked up at me as she curled her fingers around me more firmly. “It’s like hot steel.”

“You did that. You made me this way.”

“I did?”

She was serious—it was written all over her face.

“Fuck yes. How can you doubt it?”

“I guess I don’t have much experience with this kind of thing.”

“You a virgin, Fern?”

She paled again. “No, I just haven’t had a chance to, um … touch a male this way.”

I had questions, a fucking lot of them, but I swallowed them down. “You can touch me all you like, sweetness.” I was close to hyperventilating and passing the fuck out, but I’d told her she could do whatever she wanted with me, and I’d meant it.

She slid her hand all the way down to the base of my cock and back, squeezing and testing its firmness. “So, what happens if a hound finds his mate but can never have sex with her? That must happen, right? With your size?”

I curled my fingers into tight fists. “That’s never happened. We always fit together; we were made to fit together. Mates are made for each other in every way. We might have to work up to it, but to make our mate ours in truth, we need to claim them, mark them.”

“Do you think you have a mate out there?” she asked, her stare sliding from mine as she fucking finally slipped her hand inside my boxer briefs.

A breath shuddered from me as her hand touched my bare cock. “Yes.”

“Do you want that? Do you want a mate? Do you want kids?”

I hooked her around the back of the neck and drew her closer. “I do.”

She stroked me, and I growled low.

“Does that feel good?”

“Never felt anything as good as your hand on me, Tink.”

Fern shoved down the covers so she could watch what she was doing to me. I was already close to coming, which meant my cock was darker and covered in bulging veins. It was also thickening.

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