Page 51 of Make Me Wild (Rich Demons of Darkwood 3)

"Very well,” he finally relented, releasing Bentley and walking towards the basement stairs. “I’ll show Bentley the proper way to use pliers.” I made sure to keep my face blank, even though relief was bleating through me. Bentley shot me a longing stare that made revulsion spike down my spine, but he followed after the Demon.

My breath came out in a gasp when I heard the basement door open—I'd be spared just one night.

The one thing I needed, though, was for Bentley to stop being such a good psychopath, because every day I was becoming more and more replaceable to the Demon.

It would be extremely disappointing if Bentley was the cause of my doom.

My eyes shot open with a gasp, the dream sticking with me, scratching against my skin. I hadn't thought about my father's apprentice in a very long time. This town was bringing up too many memories.

I could hear the soft breathing of Cain next to me, and I carefully slid out of bed to wash my face and try to recover from the dream.

“What did you dream about?” Pax’s voice questioned roughly in the darkness. I jumped, searching the shadows, only to finally see his huge form in one of the large armchairs against the wall.

I hesitated for a moment, my ever present walls standing at attention.

“The usual," I finally whispered. I took a step toward him. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

He laughed softly, the sound somehow painful and raw. "I haven't been sleeping much,” he murmured, and I could hear the missing part of the sentence:since you left.

"My father had an apprentice, towards the end. I was terrified that he was going to replace me because I began to push back with what the Demon wanted me to do. That's what my dream was tonight."

I didn’t usually share any details when we had these nighttime interactions, so I could tell from the silence that I’d caught him off guard.

Without waiting for him to say something, I turned and strode into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind me so I was able to have a moment alone.

I stared at my shadow-ridden face, hating that it would never be possible to get rid of the haunted emptiness in my gaze. Turning on the faucet, I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash off the layer of dread I always had after a nightmare. And that hadn't even been a bad one.

Sighing, I switched off the light, opened the door, and walked back into the dark bedroom. Paxton was still just sitting in that chair. Shaking my head, I walked over to him and grabbed his hand. His eyes flickered with surprise as he stared up at me, twin candlelights shining in the darkness of the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked gruffly.

"About to get some sleep."

After what seemed like forever, he let me pull him to his feet and drag him towards the bed, his hand warm and rough in mine. I slid under the sheets, pulling them aside so Paxton could climb in behind me. Cain was somehow still sleeping, his soft breaths surrounding me as he nuzzled up behind my other side.

It still was weird to me that Cain…was a cuddler.

Paxton and I lay there, just staring at each other.

"Do you think they'll ever go away?" I whispered to him.

He reached out and trailed a finger down the side of my cheek, stroking my skin gently like I was made of porcelain and could shatter into a thousand pieces.

"They go away with you," he finally admitted to my astonishment.

Something warm burst in my chest. Different from the dark and needy emotion Cain had brought to life earlier. Without second-guessing myself, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. After a pause where he didn’t respond, I pulled away, or tried to, but then his hands were cradling my face, holding my lips softly against his. The kiss was so tender, I felt dazed.

I drowned in his supple kiss, as his tongue slipped in, giving me long, deep licks that went straight to my core.

One of his hands slid from my face, over my breast and my stomach, until he got to my underwear. His fingers brushed softly over my clit, the fabric wet already from the way his lips were artfully tearing me apart.

“Perfect,” he murmured, as his fingers slipped under my panty line, rubbing through my soaked folds.

He caught my bleating whimper with his decadent kiss. I was sore; Cain had made sure of that. But I was unable to resist Paxton’s soft touch. I started to move against him, riding his fingers as they continued to stroke my skin.

Pax finally took pity on me, two fingers sliding inside of me, immediately finding the perfect spot. I closed my eyes, feeling like the fingers weren’t even necessary—I could come just from the way he was kissing me.

And I did cum, moments later, gasping into his mouth as pleasure tore through me. He gave me another slow, panty-melting kiss before removing his fingers and licking them.

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