Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER TWENTY
Val
T heo looks at me as if I’m the answer to every prayer. The damn demon offered to break off the deal and let me go. Right after he said what I’d always wanted to hear from someone who meant it, who treated me like I’m the center of his world. He’d called me flawless. He hasn’t ever asked me to change. He studies me as though I’m perfection while I sit here on the floor with no makeup, dripping hair, and the most comfortable clothes I could magic into this dimension.
Who’d have thought I would find my dream guy in a monster?
A monster who’s clearly hurting. I can’t fix the awfulness his father inflicted upon him tonight, but I can help his physical pain.
“Short of slicing myself open again, what’s the best way to help you heal your bruises?” I stare closer at the ugly burn on his wings. “And whatever that is.”
He glances down. “An acid burn from a poison demon.”
“Charming family you have.” I regret my words when he flinches. “Sorry about that…and them.”
“Me too. How are you holding up?” he asks. “With all the fighting and the terrible things my cousin said to you?”
“Your cousin Reggie can off his shadow demon self. What a creep. At least no one but your dad gave us too much crap about Monty showing up.”
“Even though I explicitly told the soul guardian not to before we went?—”
“Technically you told him not to show his furry face. He appeared in dragon form.”
“I was going to say I’m glad he was there to cast his flames so I could focus on half a dozen relatives instead of taking on the entire crowd. Speaking of focus, did your meds help? Do you need anything else?”
I lift my pint of butter pecan. “When the stim wears off, the rebound makes me tired and hangry. Otherwise, I’m all right. Now, stop avoiding my question. How do we heal you?”
“Would you be against all blood magic?”
My stomach twists, and the ice cream turns into an icepick in my gut. Trying to keep an open mind after the levels of weirdness I’ve experienced since meeting Theo, I woman up and refrain from wrinkling my nose. “You’d have to be more specific.”
“A few drops. A prick.”
I let my gaze fall to the bulge in his pants, remembering he mentioned two pricks earlier. What must that be like? How does he fit both in there? Or are they smaller than a human’s? Given the rest of him, they’d likely be in proportion, and whoa, that’s a lot to process. “Uh, I guess I’d be down to try them. It.” I’m proud of myself for catching my slip so quickly, but from the smirk on Theo’s face, he knows what I’m thinking.
He lifts our linked hands to his mouth, pressing his lips against my knuckles. Wow . The intensity in his gaze sparks hunger deep within me that no ice cream will satisfy, and I clench my thighs together to ease the sudden pressure building between them. That’s before he sucks my index finger into his mouth, swirling a tongue that feels longer than any human’s around it.
Damn, he’s hot. The rough of his tongue, the plushness of full lips, and the pull of his slight sucking sends an echoing pulse of need to my core.
“This okay?” he asks.
“Uh huh,” I manage to mutter. I want to climb into his lap and see if he’s this warm all over.
He wraps his tongue around my finger again, and I melt. Is his tongue forked? Oh my god, it is. If it feels this good now, his earlier promise to taste me? It would wreck me.
“Still good with a tiny nick?”
“Sure.” Whatever he says. Whatever he wants. As long as he keeps up this torture of my body. Hell, we’re both still clothed, and my nipples pucker against the boring sports bra I’m starting to regret choosing.
He bites lightly against the pad of my finger, his fang catching on the skin with a sting. I inhale—my sharp and surprised breath the only sound except for the pounding of my heart—and then the quick prick fades, replaced by a flood of heat that has my skin flushing. He sucks again, and I almost climax. What magical fuckery is this?
Drawing my finger out, he releases it with a pop before flicking a forked tongue over my fingertip. “Mmm, I feel better already.”
“Same,” I say on a sigh, putting aside the ice cream. “Who knew flirting with you could be better than butter pecan?”
He grins, flashing his fangs, and I want to run my tongue along them to test how sharp they might be.
I could blame my lack of impulse control or the crazy situation or how bizarre my life has been since I met him, but desire throbs through me on a wave of need at a level I’ve never felt before. “Physical contact helps with healing?” I’m hoping he didn’t say that just to have me crawl into bed with him last night, yet I find I can’t really bring myself to care.
“Not as much as sex, but simple contact works.” His voice comes out rough, and oh, the delicious low rumble has me shivering.
“Perfect.” I damn near purr the word as I climb to straddle him, careful to avoid his visible injuries. Ghosting my fingertips over the markings and ridges of his face, the scar along his temple, the slight points of his ears, and his horns, I take in his half-lidded gaze, how his lashes lower over those ruby eyes.
The heat of his skin lulls me closer the same as a spell being woven around me, and I want to sink into him. He smells like soap and beach bonfires. God, the smoky goodness makes me need to drag my nose along his neck and inhale until I can claw my way past second guessing myself.
He catches his bottom lip on a fang, and the urge to lick that sharp tip overtakes me. I brush my mouth over his, letting the breath between us ratchet the tension until I’m pinging with anticipation and pushing against him. His low groan has me worrying that groan might’ve meant pain and not pleasure. “Tell me if I hurt you, and I’ll back off.”
“Vicious, kill me now, and I would die happy. Just don’t stab me until after you kiss me.”
I almost snort a giggle, but it comes out as a whimper. “'Kay.” I press my lips to his, daring to touch my tongue to a fang, to trace its point. The danger and thrill of our differences only stokes the craving. The gentle, sweet kiss is a damn good one, and I prepare to ease away, telling myself not to demand too much.
Echoes of years of self-doubt rattle around my brain. I’m too intense, too scattered, too spacey, too reckless. I don’t want to hear those things from Theo so I’ll leave myself wanting rather than risk it.
“My turn,” he says. In the next heartbeat, he hauls me against him and takes over the kiss. He tangles his claws in my hair, tugging my head back for him to invade, conquer, and dominate. He kisses as though he’ll devour me, fucking my mouth with his tongue.
My breaths come short and shallow, and for once, it’s not from overwhelm or panic. I’m surrounded, and it’s wonderful, this grounded feeling of safety that spills through me as dazzling and consuming as a flame.
Ah, hell . If Theo’s the fire, then I’m the dumb moth who’s willing to brave the burn.
I return his kiss, battling for control or at least equilibrium in the constant push and pull of whatever this thing is between us. His hold on my waist tightens, and we become a tangle of tongues and a clash of teeth.
The wildness inside me that I keep locked so deeply, wanting no one to see, needing no one to know about so they won’t blame it on my ADHD? The ferocity uncurls and expands as though she’s a goddess waking up and stretching to my fingertips and toes. I play with the soft strands of hair teasing my fingers and push my tongue to stroke those fangs of his. His growl of approval only urges me on. He nips at the same time I do.
A bright spot of pain flares at the edge of my tongue and a rush of coppery taste hits me like when I miss my chewing gum and chomp the inside of my cheek instead.
“Shit,” Theo whispers. “Hang on.” He sucks my tongue into his mouth, sliding his against it. The ache dissipates, fading as though I popped two extra-strength pain killers. Sure, endorphins can do wonders, but not this fast.
I pull back, managing not to freak out at the side of red and blue blood on his lips as he licks.
“It’s my venom you’re feeling,” he says. “It was created with pain killers and pleasure enhancements.”
“You have a sex drug pumping through your veins?”
“Close enough.” He scratches his claws lightly over the nape of my neck, and wow, that feels good. “You taste delicious.”
“It’s the butter pecan. Best flavor of ice cream in the world.”
“That explains it.” He smiles, and it makes my heart swell to see the snarky, cocky version of my demon prince back instead of the wounded son with awful parents.
I rock against him, needing the friction at my core and finding him erect. Really erect. And huge. Worry slides through my lust, sending reason and tumbling thoughts where there had only been a visceral craving for release.
He squeezes my hip. “Take what you want, Vicious, but know that a release will only bring us closer to completing the mating bond.”
A new fear floods me. “You don’t want me?” The question costs me everything to ask aloud. It’s the one I hide inside from everyone—that I’ll be the outcast, the misfit, the jinx. That no one will be okay with me just being me .
“I crave you on a level I’ve never experienced. I would destroy all the realms in all the universe to bind you to me, but…” He pauses, his princely mask descending, and I can’t read him, can’t catch one of my million thoughts long enough to guess at what the exception to that hella hot declaration of lust might be.
As always, I can’t leave it alone. I’ll pick at the issue until it bleeds in a much less sexy version of what we just swapped. “But?”
“I don’t want…” His words halt and stumble as though he has to force them out. “I don’t want you to regret me.”
My heart plummets, and I’m not sure it doesn’t spiral toward where the promise of what this mating sex magic everyone keeps talking about builds, builds, builds in my core. Yet I can’t stand for him to think himself unworthy, to voice and embrace my greatest fear. Worse, to believe it about himself.
“You’re a fucking prince of hell. You deserve everything .” I swivel my hips to tease us both, and the low growl coming from his chest tells me I’ve tormented him as much as myself. Straightening my shoulders, I level him with my own empress-worthy, slay all day look. “Besides, I don’t make mistakes. Don’t force me to stab you to prove a point.” Yeah, yeah, terrible pun. I own it.
His sin-soaked chuckles make my core tingle and pulse as though I’m hardwired to his every emotion, and his lust might as well be a hyper-powered, magical vibrator dialed to the max and trained on my own need. “Fair enough. Just know I don’t have a throne to offer you.”
“Then we’ll just have to win your crown back.” We . The word feels so right. Wrapping the certainty of it around me as tightly as Theo’s wings encircle me, I let need and desire take over until I take and take and take . Sparkles, stars, and whole damn dimensions explode in my vision, and my climax crests, making me writhe in ecstasy.
I slump against him, worrying about his injuries too late. A quick glance tells me he’s healed as well as if he’d been mainlining healing potion for hours. Mating magic at work, I guess. Except… “Other than the massive orgasm, I don’t feel any different.”
Theo brushes a sweat-dampened curl behind my ear. His heart pounds against my cheek in a deep bass worthy of a club beat, lulling my frantic and frenzied ADHD-wired mind into a calm better than any drug. “My vicious mate.” His voice rumbles through me, and I want to rub against it like a cat. “ Everything has changed.”