Page 59 of Demon Daddy's Little Girl

“Tell me this is what you want,” he murmurs, his golden eyes searching mine. His pupils are blown wide, the glow of them softened by the dim light of the room. His voice is rough, but there’s a vulnerability there that makes my chest ache.

I reach for the hem of his tunic, tugging it over his head and letting it fall to the floor. My fingers trace the ritual markings on his forearms, the raised lines warm beneath my touch. “I want this. I want you. No more walls, no more running. Just us.”

His breath hitches, and he cups the back of my neck, pulling me into another searing kiss. His other hand works at the laces of my dress, the fabric slipping from my shoulders and pooling at my feet. His palms skim over my bare skin, the heat of him branding me, claiming me.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to lift me and lay me down on the bed, his body covering mine. His mouth trails down my neck, his fangs grazing the scar along my collarbone before he soothes the spot with his tongue. I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he moves lower, his hands and mouth worshiping every inch of me.

When he finally joins us, it’s with a slow, deliberate thrust that has me arching off the bed, a moan tearing from my throat. His forehead presses against mine, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven bursts as he moves inside me.

“Look at me,” he rasps, his voice thick with emotion.

I open my eyes, meeting his golden gaze. There’s something raw and unfiltered in his expression, something that makes my heart ache. He’s letting me see him, all of him, not just the hardened warrior, but the man who’s as vulnerable as I am.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his pace quickening. His hands grip my hips, holding me steady as he drives into me, each thrust pulling me closer to the edge.

“Yours,” I breathe, my fingers tangling in his hair. The word is a vow, a surrender, and a declaration all at once.

When I shatter, it’s with his name on my lips, my body trembling beneath him. He follows moments later, his release tearing a guttural groan from his throat as he collapses over me, his weight a comforting anchor.

He rolls us onto our sides, keeping me pressed against him as we both struggle to catch our breath. His fingers trace idle patterns on my back, his lips brushing my temple.

“No more running,” he murmurs, his voice drowsy but firm.

“No more running,” I agree, my eyes heavy with exhaustion and contentment. For the first time in years, I let myself believe it.

In the gentle quiet, my fingers drift over the raised lines marking his chest. Some are old - silvered with time and telling stories of battles long past. But these newest ones, still pink and healing, make my breath catch. They're from the night he found us, when he fought off the collectors trying to take Rose.

"These could have killed you." My voice barely carries above a whisper.

Dezoth captures my wandering hand, pressing it flat against his heart. "A price I'd gladly pay again."

The steady thrum beneath my palm grounds me. How many nights had I lain awake, terrified to let anyone close? Yet here I am, bare and vulnerable, feeling safer than I have in years.

"I love you." The words slip out, carrying all the weight of weeks of unspoken feelings. Of watching him braid Rose's hair with those deadly hands. Of seeing him stand between us and danger without hesitation. Of quiet moments when he thought no one was looking, his golden eyes soft as he watched us both.

His whole body goes still, those remarkable eyes lighting up from within. The glow casts shadows across his sharp features, but there's nothing frightening about it anymore. Instead, it's like watching the sun rise after the longest night.

He moves with that fluid grace that still takes my breath away, rolling me beneath him. His obsidian hair falls around us like a curtain as he claims my mouth with a kiss that speaks of possession and tenderness all at once. His markings shimmer in the dim light as his hands frame my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks with infinite care.

When he breaks the kiss, his forehead rests against mine. "Say it again."

I reach up, threading my fingers through his hair, watching his eyes flutter closed at the touch. "I love you, Dezoth Blackwood."

His answering kiss steals the rest of my words, and I let myself get lost in the heat of his mouth, the press of his body against mine, and the knowledge that I've finally found home.

When he finally breaks away, he looks down at me with so much love that my heart can't take it. "I love you, Ada."

28

DEZOTH

The afternoon sun filters through my study windows as I review guard rotation schedules. It's been months since I had anything more pressing to do - not after news of Lord Varyk's death spread and Rolfo and I were able to put an end to the half-demon children's disappearances. It seemed he was forcing demons to bend to him and after taking out a few of his servants, there was no one left in support of his ideas.

A familiar knock echoes through the room - three quick taps followed by two slow ones. Vashti's signature.

"Enter."

My sister glides in, her jewel-toned dress swishing against the floor. She pauses by my desk, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Through the window behind her, I catch glimpses of Rose chasing thaliverns in the garden while Ada tends to the herbs.

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