Page 39 of Demon Monster's Little Human

The thought unsettles me more than it should.

I shift, adjusting her against me, pulling her closer. She doesn’t fight it. Instead, she nuzzles closer, seeking warmth instinctively, her body fitting against mine in a way that makes something deep inside me twist.

Her fingers twitch against my chest, as if she is trying to grip onto something solid, something real.

“You’re warm,”she murmurs, voice hoarse, half-lost to sleep.

I don’t respond.

She doesn’t care.

“You feel good,” she continues, her cheek pressing against my skin, her breath fanning over my collarbone.

A low growl rumbles in my throat, but she doesn’t hear it, or maybe she does and doesn’t care.

She sighs, curling slightly, fingers skimming the ridges of my chest, barely touching, barely feeling.

My body stiffens.

“Strong,” she mutters, voice heavier now, slurred with fever. “So strong. So terrifying.”

My jaw tightens. “Sleep.”

She doesn’t listen.

Instead, she tilts her face up, her nose brushing the curve of my jaw, and a part of me snaps tight.

“Terrifying,” she repeats, her lips barely moving, her lashes fluttering as if she is slipping between wakefulness and delirium.

She swallows, her body shifting against mine, legs tangling slightly, her warmth pressing against every inch of me.

I grip her waist, stilling her.

“Liora.”

She hums in response, not understanding the warning in my voice.

Then her fingers trail lower, tracing over the jagged scars along my ribs, curious, lazy, dangerous.

Something inside me burns.

I grab her wrist, firm but careful. “Behave.”

Her lips curve slightly, a shadow of a smirk, barely there.

“Why?” she breathes. “You’re so?—”

I silence her with a kiss.

Not because I mean to.

Not because I want to.

But because I lose control for half a second, and it is the longest second of my life.

Her lips are soft, warm, parted against mine in startled surprise.

She doesn’t resist.

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