Page 48 of Higher Demon

“Good for the truce?” He sounds like he’s laughing, damn him.

I nod. “Dylan said it last week. People will relate to you more if we show you having friends, right? Well, if we show you doing something completely ordinary like hooking up, they’ll relate to you even more.”

He sighs. “Ian.”

“Ugh. Yeah, I know.” That might work eventually, but right now, if Marc were to publicly be in a sexual relationship with someone, hunters would be mistrustful. After all, what kind of human fucks a demon? They’d assume he was mind-controlling me. “Fine. We fuck on the down low.” Now that I’ve decided to do this, I really, really want it. “You and me, doing the dirty in secret. Nobody else finds out.”

For a second, his usual mask slips, and blazing desire flashes in his eyes. I shiver. I’ve had a lot of sex, and most of it was good sex, but I’ve never had anyone look at me like that—as if they’re dying of a thirst only I can quench.

“Have you thought this through?” His question is quiet and serious, expression bland again.

Doubt flashes through me. “You’re not into anything freaky, right? Like… no cannibalism or weird hats?”

“It concerns me greatly that you equate cannibalism with wearing a weird hat.”

“Don’t dodge the question.” Clearly he’s never had a guy want to blow him while wearing a hat with a little propellor on it. If he had, he’d understand.

“No, I’m not interested in eating your flesh or wearing a hat.” He pauses. “Not during sex, anyway.”

I blink. “You want to eat my flesh while we’re not having sex?”

He rolls his eyes. “Hats, Ian. I do, at appropriate times, wear them. Your flesh is quite safe—humans aren’t appetizing.”

Automatically, I open my mouth to defend humankind, then realize how fucking stupid it would be to say that we are too appetizing. “Good,” I say instead. “When do you wear hats? I’ve never seen you wear a hat.” Although he’d look criminally good in a 1930s gangster outfit, complete with hat.

“Ian.”

“What? If you’re not going to murder me and eat me, and you’re not going to wear a weird hat and ask me to call you snookums, we should be good.”

He shakes his head. “If you won’t take this seriously, I can’t?—”

“I’m taking it seriously, Marc.” I stand again, but not to leave. This time, I walk over to the couch and sit on his lap, facing him, straddling his legs. It was an impulse, and it’s… terrifying. But also exhilarating. The warmth of his body soaks into me, and this close, I can see every imperfection?—

Scratch that. He’s got none. Typical Marc. Has to be fucking flawless.

“I’m taking it seriously,” I repeat, my voice quieter. “You think I’m ignoring that you could crush my brain with a thought? That you could take over control of my body and use me like a puppet? Iknowall that. It terrifies me,” I confess, and he swallows. “I’ve never been turned on by the idea of giving someone else power over me. Not ever. I’m still not. So the fact that, even knowing how easily you could destroy my free will, I still want you? That’s not a minor thing. It fucking means something, and even though this might turn out to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, even though my brother will literally lose his mind if he finds out, or you might be better at playing the long game than I thought and I’ve totally misread you…” I trail off. If I have misread him, if I’m kidding myself about Marc’s end goal, then I’m dead.

Of course, if that’s the case, I’m dead anyway, whether we fuck or not. Might as well get an orgasm out of it, right?

“This might turn out to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” I repeat, “and even knowing that, even though there isn’t any logical reason why this is a good idea and you’re not even my type anyway, I still want to do it.”

For a long, tense moment, our gazes lock. Then Marc surges forward and captures my mouth with his. It’s just like I remembered it—hot and explosive andnot enough. I whimper as he pulls back.

“I will never do that to you,” he whispers. “I will never give you cause to regret this, whatever happens.”

I nod. “So… secret sex?”

“I’m not calling it that. But yes.”

“Good.” Before I can start feeling awkward, I lean forward and kiss him. It’s just like I remember—lightning cracking through me, bringing every nerve ending to life. This is going to go fast.

I pull back, and Marc’s gaze searches my face. “Changed your mind?”

“Fuck, no.” I yank my shirt over my head, then stand to get rid of the rest of my clothes. “Strip. Do we need condoms?”

He stands and begins unbuttoning his shirt. “Human diseases don’t affect me.”

I’m momentarily distracted by the broad, muscular chest being exposed. Clothes really don’t do him justice. “Uhh… do you have any weird demon herpes that might affect me?”

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