Chapter 14 #2
Then I began to move, rising and falling on his length, setting a pace that started slow but quickly intensified. Malphas let me lead at first, his hands on my hips, his eyes devouring every movement. But as our passion built, his control began to fray.
His hips started thrusting up to meet me, driving deeper with each downstroke. The glowing patterns on his skin brightened, pulsing in time with our movements.
“Sam,” he groaned, his voice deeper than I’d ever heard it, resonating with power that made the air vibrate. “You feel so good. So perfect.”
His praise spurred me on, and I rode him harder, chasing the pleasure building inside me. One of his hands wrapped around my cock, stroking in counterpoint to our rhythm.
The dual sensation was overwhelming, pushing me rapidly toward the edge. “I’m close,” I warned, my thighs trembling with exertion.
“Wait,” he commanded, and something in his voice—some hint of supernatural compulsion—made my approaching orgasm recede slightly. “Not yet.”
Before I could protest, the world tilted as Malphas stood, still inside me, and in one fluid motion laid me on my back on the sofa. He loomed over me, his powerful body caging mine, his eyes blazing with otherworldly fire.
“Now,” he growled, beginning to thrust with renewed vigor. “Now you can come. Come for me, Sam.”
As if my body was responding to a direct command, pleasure crashed through me in waves. I came with a shout of his name, my release spattering between our bodies. The intensity of it was unlike anything I’d experienced before, prolonged and almost painfully perfect.
Malphas followed moments later, his own climax accompanied by a roar that made the windows rattle. I felt his release hot inside me, seemingly endless. As he came, the glowing patterns on his skin flared brilliantly, illuminating the room with supernatural light.
For a brief, disorienting moment, I thought I saw something more—great wings unfurling from his back, a crown of fire above his horns—but then it was gone, leaving just Malphas, my Malphas, collapsing carefully on top of me.
We lay tangled together, both breathing heavily, his weight pleasant rather than crushing. I ran my hands down his back, feeling the smooth skin where I’d imagined wings.
“Did you just use demon powers during sex?” I asked when I could speak again.
Malphas lifted his head, looking slightly guilty. “Perhaps a small amount. Was it… okay?”
I laughed, the sound turning into a groan as he shifted inside me. “More than okay. Though I think we might have alarmed the neighbors. Pretty sure the house shook.”
“Let them be alarmed,” he murmured, pressing kisses along my jaw. “I’m not sorry.”
“Neither am I,” I assured him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Though I am curious about something I saw. When you came, there were… wings? And something like a crown?”
Malphas tensed slightly. “You saw that?”
“Just for a second,” I said. “Was it real?”
He sighed, carefully withdrawing from me and settling us into a more comfortable position on the sofa, my body tucked against his larger one.
“Yes,” he admitted. “In moments of… intense emotion… my true form can bleed through. Most humans can’t perceive it at all.”
“But I can,” I said, thinking of what Alice Deleon had said about seeing things as they truly are.
“You can,” he confirmed, running a hand down my side. “Another reason you’re… special.”
The word hung between us, weighted with meaning neither of us was quite ready to articulate.
“So those lieutenants of yours,” I said instead, changing the subject. “They seem… interesting.”
Malphas chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “They were certainly fascinated by you. I’ve never seen Pustule so animated.”
“They told me people—demons—in the ‘lower circles’ are talking about you,” I said, tracing one of the fading patterns on his chest. “About us.”
“Let them talk,” he said dismissively. “My position is secure, as I demonstrated today.”
I propped myself up on one elbow to look at him. “What exactly did you demonstrate? You never said.”
A shadow of his earlier predatory smile returned. “I reminded them why I am Prince Malphas, Commander of Forty Legions, and not some lesser demon to be questioned or challenged.”
“That’s still very vague,” I pointed out.
He caressed my cheek, his expression softening. “And it shall remain so. There are aspects of my existence I prefer to keep separate from this—” he gestured between us, “—from us. Not because I want to hide things from you, but because I want to protect this.”
I understood what he meant. The Malphas who commanded demonic armies and harvested souls existed in a different reality than the Malphas who built me bookshelves and worried about the pH balance of his garden soil. Both were real, both were him, but they didn’t need to fully overlap.
“Okay,” I said, settling back against him. “But if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”
“I know,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “And that means more than you can imagine.”
We lay in comfortable silence for a while, his hand stroking my back in soothing patterns. Eventually, I remembered something else his lieutenants had mentioned.
“They said you’ve never displayed photos of anyone in your personal space before,” I said casually. “Is that true?”
Malphas was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. Finally, he said, “Yes. It’s true.”
“Why me?” I asked, the question that had been hovering in my mind since Ixizel pointed out the photos.
His arms tightened around me slightly. “Because you’re the first being in my very long existence that I’ve wanted to remember every moment with,” he said simply. “The first I’ve wanted to build memories alongside, not just collect souls from.”
The honesty in his voice made my chest ache. I pressed closer to him, suddenly overwhelmed by emotions I wasn’t ready to name.
“Even with Gary’s influence,” Malphas continued, his voice thoughtful, “I shouldn’t be capable of… of feeling this way. Demons don’t form attachments like humans do. We’re beings of power and purpose, not… not love.”
The word hung in the air between us, neither of us quite ready to claim it directly.
“Maybe you’re evolving,” I suggested, echoing what I’d told his lieutenants. “Becoming something new.”
“Maybe,” he agreed softly. “Or maybe this was always possible, and I just never found the right catalyst.” His hand came up to tilt my face toward his. “The right person.”
The tenderness in his eyes—red slowly giving way to that unique hazel blend—made my heart skip. I leaned up to kiss him, a soft, sweet gesture so different from our earlier passion but no less meaningful.
When we parted, Malphas smiled—not the predatory grin of the demon prince but the warm smile of the man who loved his garden and built bookshelves for his boyfriend.
“We should probably continue unpacking,” he said, making no move to get up. “Your books won’t arrange themselves.”
“They can wait,” I decided, settling more comfortably against him. “I’m pretty content right where I am.”
“As am I,” he murmured, his arms encircling me protectively. “Though perhaps we should move to the bedroom. The neighbors have been scandalized enough for one day.”
I laughed, picturing Mrs. Deleon across the street, probably sensing our “energies” or whatever she called them. “Fine, but I’m not walking. You exhausted me with your demonic sex powers.”
Without warning, Malphas stood, lifting me effortlessly in his arms. “Your wish is my command,” he said, carrying me toward the stairs.
As he navigated the hallway, I noticed the photos again—ordinary moments captured in frames. Us at the lake, at a local festival, in the garden he tended so carefully. Snippets of a life being built together, one ordinary day at a time.
Except nothing about our life was ordinary, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.