Chapter 7
When we returned home, Malphas immediately set to work in his garage workshop, organizing his new purchases. I retreated to the living room with my laptop to catch up on some freelance work, but found myself distracted, thinking about our day.
It was bizarre how quickly I’d adjusted to living with Malphas. A month ago, I would have run screaming from any supernatural entity after my experience with Veximus the poltergeist. Now, I was casually sharing a home—and a bed—with a literal demon.
A very sexy demon with excellent cooking skills and an adorable obsession with home improvement.
You’re in trouble, Sam, I thought as I absentmindedly scrolled through emails. This was supposed to be temporary housing, not… whatever this is becoming.
The sound of power tools from the garage broke my reverie. Curious, I wandered out to see what Malphas was up to. I found him at his workbench, safety goggles perched improbably between his horns as he carefully measured and cut a piece of wood.
He’d changed into what I now recognized as his “work clothes”—worn jeans and a simple black t-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. A thin layer of sawdust dusted his crimson forearms, and his face was set in an expression of intense concentration.
It was, quite possibly, the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
I leaned against the doorframe, watching him work. His movements were precise, efficient, those large hands handling the tools with surprising delicacy. There was something mesmerizing about seeing such raw power controlled so carefully.
As if sensing my presence, Malphas looked up. “Need something?”
“Just watching,” I said, not bothering to hide my appreciation. “What are you making?”
“A bookshelf,” he replied, setting down his tools. “For your graphic novels. I noticed you have them stacked on the floor in the guest room.”
I blinked, surprised and touched by the gesture. “You’re building me a bookshelf?”
He shrugged, suddenly looking almost shy. “It’s nothing elaborate. Just something functional.”
I moved closer, examining the partially assembled piece. It was beautiful work—clean lines, perfect joints, the wood already sanded to a silky smoothness.
“This is hardly ‘nothing,’” I said, running my fingers over the surface. “Thank you.”
Malphas watched my hand move across the wood, his eyes darkening slightly. “You’re welcome.”
The air between us suddenly felt charged. I looked up at him, at those mesmerizing eyes now shifting from hazel to red, at the strong line of his jaw, at the subtle quirk of his mouth.
“You know,” I said, stepping closer, “there’s something incredibly sexy about watching you work with your hands.”
A low rumble emanated from his chest. “Is that so?”
I nodded, reaching out to brush some sawdust from his forearm. “Very sexy. All that power, all that precision.” My fingers trailed up to his bicep. “It makes me wonder what else those hands can do.”
In one fluid motion, Malphas had me pressed against the workbench, his body caging mine. “Would you like a demonstration?” he growled, his voice pure demon now.
“God, yes,” I breathed.
“Don’t bring Him into this,” Malphas murmured against my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. “This is between you and me.”
His mouth captured mine in a hungry kiss that tasted of coffee and something darker, something otherworldly. His hands—those incredible hands—gripped my hips, lifting me effortlessly onto the workbench. Tools and screws scattered as I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
“Careful,” he warned, breaking the kiss. “Some of those are expensive.”
I laughed breathlessly. “Only you would worry about your tools while we’re making out.”
His answering smile was wickedly predatory. “I wasn’t talking about the hardware.” His hand cupped me through my jeans, making me gasp. “This is much more valuable.”
“Smooth,” I managed, arching into his touch. “Very smooth.”
“I have my moments,” he said, then proceeded to demonstrate just how skilled those hands could be.
He undid my jeans with practiced ease, sliding them down along with my boxers. The cool air of the garage made me shiver, or maybe it was the heat in Malphas’s gaze as he looked at me, exposed and wanting.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, running his hands up my thighs. “So fucking beautiful.”
I reached for the hem of his t-shirt, eager to feel his skin against mine. “Off,” I demanded. “I want to see you.”
He complied, pulling the shirt over his head in one fluid motion. No matter how many times I saw his bare torso, it never failed to take my breath away—all that sculpted crimson muscle, the subtle patterns in his skin that weren’t quite human.
“Like what you see?” he asked, a knowing smirk on his lips.
“You know I do,” I replied, reaching out to trace the defined lines of his abdomen. “You’re like a walking wet dream.”
His eyes flared red at the compliment. “And you,” he said, leaning in to kiss me again, “are a temptation I can’t resist.”
His hands made quick work of removing my shirt, and then we were skin to skin, his supernatural heat warming me everywhere we touched.
His mouth trailed down my neck, across my collarbone, down to my chest. When his tongue flicked over my nipple, I gasped, tangling my fingers in his hair, careful to avoid his horns.
“Malphas,” I groaned as he continued his downward journey, kissing and nipping at my stomach. “Please.”
He looked up at me, eyes glowing. “Please what?”
“Your mouth,” I managed. “I need your mouth on me.”
A wicked smile spread across his face. “As you wish.”
He sank to his knees before me, a sight that sent a thrill through my entire body. A demon prince on his knees, looking up at me with hunger in his eyes—it was almost too much.
The first touch of his tongue against my cock had me gripping the edge of the workbench for support. His mouth was hotter than a human’s, the sensation nearly overwhelming as he took me in completely.
“Fuck,” I gasped, watching in awe as he began to move, his lips stretched around me, his eyes never leaving mine. “That’s… oh god, that’s amazing.”
One large hand gripped my thigh, keeping me steady as he worked me with his mouth. The other reached around to squeeze my ass, fingers teasing at my entrance.
This is how I die, I thought deliriously. Death by demon blowjob. What a way to go.
When he slipped one finger inside me, I nearly came on the spot. The dual sensation of his hot mouth and probing finger had me panting, trembling on the edge of control.
“Malphas,” I warned, my voice strained. “I’m close. So close.”
He hummed around me, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure up my spine. His finger crooked inside me, finding that spot that made stars explode behind my eyelids.
“I’m going to—” The rest of my sentence dissolved into a moan as my orgasm crashed through me. Malphas didn’t pull away, swallowing everything I had to give, his eyes blazing red with satisfaction.
When he finally released me, I was boneless, clinging to the workbench for support. “Holy shit,” I breathed. “That was… fuck.”
“Eloquent,” he teased, rising to his feet. His jeans did nothing to hide his arousal, the impressive outline clearly visible.
I reached for his belt buckle. “Your turn.”
He caught my hand, bringing it to his lips. “Not here. I want you properly. In a bed.”
Before I could protest, he’d scooped me up in his arms, carrying me as if I weighed nothing. I wrapped my arms around his neck, still dazed from my orgasm.
“What about your tools?” I asked as he carried me through the house.
“They’ll still be there later,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time. “You’re more important.”
The simple statement shouldn’t have made my heart skip a beat, but it did. Dangerous, Sam. Very dangerous.
He deposited me on his bed—a massive four-poster that I’d quickly come to appreciate over the past week. His bedroom was surprisingly tasteful, decorated in rich browns and deep reds, with heavy curtains and antique furniture that hinted at his true age.
I watched hungrily as he removed his jeans and boxers, his impressive erection springing free. No matter how many times I saw him naked, it was always a breathtaking sight.
“Come here,” I said, reaching for him.
Malphas crawled onto the bed, his powerful body moving with predatory grace. He covered me with his larger frame, kissing me deeply. I could taste myself on his tongue, and the thought of what he’d just done made me shiver with renewed arousal.
“Want you,” I murmured against his lips. “Want to feel you inside me.”
A growl rumbled through his chest. “You’ll be the death of me, Sam.”
“Says the immortal being,” I teased, then gasped as he nipped at my neck.
He reached for the lube in the bedside drawer, then paused, looking down at me with surprising tenderness. “Are you sure? You just came, and I’m not exactly… small.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “I’m very sure. I want to feel you. All of you.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. With meticulous care, he prepared me, working me open with those skilled fingers until I was writhing beneath him, begging for more.
When he finally pushed inside me, the stretch and burn was exquisite. I clung to his shoulders, breathing through the initial discomfort until it melted into pleasure.
“Okay?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding still.
“More than okay,” I assured him, rocking my hips to take him deeper. “Move, please.”
And move he did. Malphas set a rhythm that was neither too gentle nor too rough, hitting that perfect spot inside me with every thrust. His eyes blazed red, fixed on my face as if memorizing every expression of pleasure.
“Sam,” he groaned, his pace increasing. “You feel incredible. So perfect around me.”
His praise sent warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with physical pleasure. I reached up to touch his face, trace the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his horn.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I managed between gasps. “For a demon DIY enthusiast.”
He laughed, the sound trailing into a moan as I clenched around him deliberately. “Brat.”
“You love it,” I retorted, then immediately regretted my choice of words.
Something flickered in his eyes—something deeper than lust—but before I could analyze it, he’d shifted our position, pulling me up so I was straddling him. The new angle drove him impossibly deeper, making me cry out.
“Ride me,” he commanded, hands gripping my hips. “Show me how much you want this.”
I braced my hands on his broad chest and began to move, rising and falling on his length. The sensation was overwhelming—being filled so completely, controlling the pace, watching his face contort with pleasure beneath me.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, one hand moving to stroke me back to hardness. “Take what you need.”
I lost myself in the rhythm, in the slick slide of our bodies moving together. Malphas watched me with those glowing eyes, his expression a mix of lust and something deeper, something that scared me if I thought about it too hard.
So I didn’t think. I just felt—his hand on my cock, his thickness inside me, his heat surrounding me.
“I’m close,” he warned, his rhythm faltering. “Sam, I’m going to—”
“Yes,” I gasped, my own second orgasm building rapidly under his skilled touch. “Come for me, Malphas.”
With a roar that shook the room, he did just that, his release hot inside me. The feeling pushed me over the edge, and I came again, spilling over his hand and onto his chest.
For a long moment, we stayed locked together, both breathing heavily. Then, with gentle hands, he lifted me off him and pulled me to his side, one arm wrapped protectively around my waist.
“That was…” I started, but words failed me.
“Mmm,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to my temple. “It was.”
We lay in comfortable silence, our breathing gradually returning to normal. I traced idle patterns on his chest, enjoying the smooth texture of his skin.
“Malphas?” I said eventually.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for building me a bookshelf. That’s… that’s really thoughtful.”
He smiled, his eyes soft in the afternoon light filtering through the curtains. “You’re welcome. Though we made a mess of the workshop.”
I laughed. “Worth it. Though I’m pretty sure I have sawdust in places sawdust should never be.”
“We could shower,” he suggested, his hand trailing down my spine.
“Together?” I raised an eyebrow. “Because I seem to recall that leading to the shower door incident.”
His smile turned wicked. “I’ve reinforced the new door. It’s very sturdy.”
“Of course you have,” I said, shaking my head fondly. “Lead the way, handyman.”