Page 19 of Demon Daddy's Secret Twins

Rage burns through my veins, making my wings snap out before I can stop them. The thought of anyone laying violent hands on her makes my demon nature roar for blood. But I force it down, knowing she needs my control right now, not my fury.I curl my wings back tight, though my markings still pulse with barely contained anger.

"I would cut off my own hands before using them to harm you." The words come out rougher than intended.

"I know." Her smile is small but real. "That's exactly why I want to try. With you."

My breath catches. For the first time in years, all my careful plans and calculated moves, I find myself suddenly, stupidly nervous. The weight of her trust settles on my shoulders like a physical thing. One wrong move could shatter everything.

"Are you sure?" I search her face, needing to be certain.

"No." She lets out a shaky laugh. "I'm terrified. But I want to be. I don’t want to always be trapped by the past."

The honesty in those words, the courage it takes her to stand here and offer this... My chest aches with a fierce protectiveness. I want to gather her close, to shield her from everything that's ever hurt her. But I stay perfectly still, letting her set the pace.

"Then we'll take it slow," I tell her softly. "As slow as you need. And if you ever want to stop-"

"I know." She takes another tiny step forward. "You'll let me."

The mist from the waterfall curls around us as Loxley inches closer. Her breath catches, golden-brown eyes searching mine for any sign of rejection. But she’ll find none from me. Not when I hoped but never thought she’d trust me like this. My wings ache to wrap around her, to shield her from the world, but I keep them firmly against my back.

Her fingers brush my chest, tentative, testing. The simple touch sends electricity through my markings, making them pulse with a soft golden glow. She startles slightly at the reaction.

"It's okay," I murmur. "They do that when I feel... strongly about something."

A hint of a smile touches her lips. She rises on her toes, closing the last breath of distance between us. Her lips ghost across mine, soft, uncertain. The contact is barely there, yet it ignites every nerve ending in my body. I hold perfectly still, fighting every instinct that demands I take control.

When I don't move, don't grab, her confidence grows. She presses closer, lips becoming more insistent against mine. Her hands slide up my chest to rest against my shoulders, and I can feel the slight tremor in them. But there's determination in the way she angles her head, deepening the kiss with slow, careful exploration.

I let her set the pace, responding only enough to show her she's not alone in this. My markings burn brighter with each passing second, casting golden light across her skin. When she makes a tiny sound in the back of her throat - something between a sigh and a whimper - it takes every ounce of control I possess not to pull her closer.

She tastes like sunlight and courage, this fierce, fragile human who trusts me enough to try. The thought makes my chest ache with a protectiveness I've never known before.

Her lips tremble against mine, and I feel the weight of her trust in every hesitant touch. My markings pulse brighter, betraying the storm of emotion I’m holding back. When she pulls away, her golden-brown eyes search mine, wide and uncertain. I don’t move, don’t breathe, waiting for her to decide what comes next.

“Mazan,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the waterfall’s roar. “I want... I want to try everything. With you.”

My chest tightens. I’ve waited for this moment, dreamed of it, but now that it’s here, I’m terrified of ruining it. She’s so fragile, so brave, and I can’t afford to make a single misstep. I nod, my voice low and steady. “Whatever you want. Your pace, Loxley. Always.”

Her hands grip my shoulders, and I can feel the faint tremble in her fingers. She’s scared, but she’s pushing through it, and that courage makes my heart ache. I reach for her carefully, my hands settling on her waist. She flinches, just barely, but doesn’t pull away. I wait, giving her time to adjust, to decide if this is what she truly wants.

When she nods, I lift her gently, cradling her against my chest. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t protest. I carry her away from the waterfall, toward the small cave hidden in the cliffs. It’s quiet here, sheltered from the outside world. The air is cool, the sand soft beneath my feet. I lower her onto the ground, my movements slow and deliberate.

Her eyes never leave mine as I kneel before her. My hands move to the hem of her shirt, pausing until she gives a small nod. I pull it over her head, revealing the jagged scar along her ribs. My markings flare brighter, a surge of anger and protectiveness I can’t fully suppress. But I don’t let it show on my face. Instead, I press a kiss to the scar, gentle and reverent. She shudders, her hands tangling in my hair.

I take my time, undressing her piece by piece, kissing every inch of skin I uncover. Her breath comes faster, her body trembling beneath my touch. When she’s bare before me, I lean back, letting her see the awe in my eyes. “You’re beautiful,” I murmur, my voice rough with emotion. “So beautiful.”

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she reaches for me, her fingers fumbling with the ties of my leathers. I help her, shedding my clothes until we’re both bare, skin to skin. Her hands trace the lines of my markings, her touch tentative but curious. I let her explore, my breath catching as her fingers brush over the sensitive ridges of my wings.

When she’s ready, I guide her onto my lap, settling her over me. Her eyes widen as she feels me beneath her, but I don’t rushher. “Your pace,” I remind her, my voice steady despite the fire coursing through me. “Always your pace.”

She nods, her hands gripping my shoulders for balance. And then she leans in, kissing me again. My hands are still on her waist, and gently, I guide her to rock them against me. A soft moan escapes her and I grin as she starts to grind against my erection.

When her lips leave mine, I trail them softly down her neck, finding her favorite places to kiss as she works herself harder against me. “Oh, gods,” she whispers, and I’m determined to show her how patient I can be. How right this can be for her.

One of my hands slides up, caressing her breast, and she whimpers when I tug at her nipple. Her hips move faster, and pure satisfaction fills me at how wet she is. At how much she wants me.

“Mazan,” she moans. “I- I-”

I press a kiss to her neck. “Take what you want, Lox. Take it.”

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