Page 44 of Demons of Eden

It should be all kinds of awkward as he suddenly pulls away, but we both end up laughing as soon as we look at each other. I guess even the grouchy asshole has a sense of humour underneath all that grump and murderous intent. Who’d have guessed?

“Coven princess?” he asks after we’ve both recovered.

“Her mother, Zenith, is our coven’s leader. Alina’s also pretty universally loved by everyone, hence the coven princess nickname.”

“She knows about it, the nickname?”

“I’m pretty sure she wears it with pride,” I inform him with a roll of my eyes. “She’d introduced herself as ‘the coven’s favourite princess’ when we first met. She also has no sisters.”

He only makes a hum in response. I take a moment to try and reorder my thoughts, decide how best to pick up where we were in our awkward little chat before the interruptions.

Hopefully, that unexpected icebreaker will make the rest of this conversation easier…

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Demonic pregnancy is teaching me a lot of interesting new things.

For example, four days is apparently too many to go betweenfeedings. The insane feeling in my chest of a void slowly growing as my energy depletes has returned far quicker than I anticipated, and with it, my brain has turned into a lusty fucking disaster. Somehow, the aforementioned lusty disaster brain has me making my way over to Fletcher Hunting today like I’ve been invited.

I take one last glimpse at my reflection in my car’s side mirror as I step out, and even I can admit I look hot today. It’s probably the most effort I’ve put into my appearance since finding out I’m pregnant. The outfit is a little revealing, and I find myself somewhat sarcastically arguing with myself over my clothing choices as I walk over to the building.

Did I choose to wear a cute, high-waisted skirt in the hopes that Daion would suddenly find my legs irresistible and bend me over the counter?No, of course not. I would never.

I also absolutely wouldn’t forgo a bra while wearing a thin top in the hopes of enticing him to pull it off me. And if I left the jacket I’d been wearing over it in the car, despite the Marchchill? Well, that was an entirely innocent choice on my part too. Clearly, I just assumed it would be warmer in their building.

When I reach the door to their office, I pause with a frown at the fact it’s locked and all the lights inside are switched off. Fuck. Hopefully he’s home and is upstairs or something. Though, if he isn’t, it’s only my own fault. I didn’t exactly warn him I was inviting myself over, too worried I’d chicken out and lose the nerve to show up. I try to ignore the unpleasant prickling feeling across my skin at the thought of going home just as empty as I left.

Biting my lip, I push the buzzer on the little intercom by the door.

As I wait for someone to hopefully let me inside, I wonder if I’m slowly going crazy. This is a truly insane need to now possess, and it only seems to grow in intensity. The only reason I’m managing not to die outright from embarrassment at my present situation is how Daion has been acting towards me in return.

Ever since we fucked, he’s been touching me every single chance he gets. There have been light caresses across my back and his fingers trailing down my arms and brushing over my palms. He’s also been sitting closer to me on the couch, always seeming to have at least one part of his body resting against mine. Not to mention the way he always seems to find a reason to press himself flush to my back when he’s showing me something in our workout sessions. Something he’s found the time for every day since, until today.

Fuck. What if he is busy, and that’s why he didn’t plan for another session?

Not willing to accept failure just yet, I allow my thoughts to drift back to happier things, like the way he’s been behaving.

Although, maybe happier isn’t the best word. Sweet baby pixies, it’s practically torture at times, him being so openwith his attraction.Maybe even…his affection?I shake off the idea as quickly as it came, silently reminding myself that this is supposed to be a practical arrangement between sort-of friends. Friends, who happen to highly appreciate each other’s physical appearances. Honestly, the real problem is that Daion’s been extremely open with hisattraction,and yet, he’s made absolutely no move to actually fuck me again.

Already, I can feel the cavernous ache in my chest growing worse. I need sex. Clearly, the baby’s draining through my energy faster now, the further into their development they get. I’ve never been so utterly desperate for someone to fuck me, and I refuse to believe it’s just me being a depraved, lusty witch.

“Eden!” Torrin calls when he sees me, grinning brightly as he opens the door.Goddess—this man’s smile. I swear my heart beats a tiny bit faster at the mere sight of it. He scans his eyes over me, quickly taking in the outfit and letting out a low whistle. “Damn, girl. Got a hot date?” he teases, and I roll my eyes, letting out a small giggle as he steps aside and over-elaborately gestures for me to come in.

“Yeah, the men are lining up to date a witch pregnant with a demon’s baby,” I reply jokingly before adding, “I went to lunch with a friend. They had some other stuff to do after, so I thought I’d stop by and see if there were any updates.” I shrug, desperate to seem casual as I step inside. The good-natured playfulness seems to vanish from his face as he shuts the door behind me, securely locking the place back up with the push of a button.

“Lunch with who?” he asks, and I shiver.

Is it just me, or did his eyes just darken and his voice get kind of growly?

I stumble over my words as Torrin takes a step closer to me, staring into my eyes with an intensity I’m not at all used to from this man. “Um, just…this friend. He—I mean…”

“He?” Torrin grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, staring into my eyes as he practically pins me against the wall with his mountain-like body. He tilts his head, and I blink.

What's happening right now?

I look at him, as if just staring will provide me with answers, but all it provides me with is more horny-brained confusion. Torrin’s currently wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with a well-worn black leather jacket. It looks good on him. He also smells like some kind of especially intoxicating cologne, mixed with his natural scent. Forcing myself to stop checking him out, I look up and meet his gaze, his hazel eyes immediately holding me hostage. I swallow thickly.

“Is Daion here?”

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