Chapter 20 #2
Demons don’t need to feed—at least, a demon like Jun doesn’t. I know what he is. He’s a demon of the dead, a reaper demon, not the kind that feeds from lust.
But he could have fooled me by the way he drinks me up.
His hand trails across the curve of my breast, down my stomach, stopping at my thighs. He pushes my dress up, and my legs part, welcoming the touch.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers, his claws digging into my inner thighs.
I’ve rendered him breathless, made him long to drink me up and hold me like he wants to crush me. Beneath his touch and devouring gaze, I feel like a thing of beauty. I have healthy self-esteem on most days, but nothing prepares me for how he makes my confidence skyrocket.
Jun leans in before I can answer, capturing my lips in his.
It’s ravenous, the way he kisses me, and I know he can taste his blood on my lips.
He doesn’t appear to care, biting so hard that, if I were a human, I would bruise.
Jun knows I’m not—he knows he doesn’t have to be gentle.
I don’t want him to be. It shows by the soft mewls I make against his mouth, encouraging his burning touch.
My sounds grow as his fingers finally touch where I need them, thumb grazing against the fabric of my underwear. I swallow the grunt passing through his lips.
Finally, he voices what I’ve been avoiding thinking.
“We don’t have as long as I fucking need. I want more time with you.” He pushes my underwear to the side, and his fingers dip in, coated in my arousal. “Fuck, princess.” He presses his forehead to mine, and our eyes lock. “Does feeding always make you feel like this? Be honest.”
“No,” I whisper, my voice shaking.
Feeding makes me feel good, close to alive, but it’s never made me feel this good. I’ve never been able to finish without a single touch or rendered this needy with so little. Jun does something to me, and he can see it.
“Then this is for me?” His fingers circle over my clit, and I let out a soft, needy moan.
I nod uselessly. “All for you.”
“That’s good.” He hums. The pressure builds with each touch. “You’re so wet, and it’s all for me. No one else. Mine. Tell me you’re mine. Please.”
His words are a whimper at the end, such a contrast to his growling tones.
I only manage to get out a single, reverent word. “Yours.”
His fingers plunge into my core, and it’s rough, two fingers entering—the way he kisses me is a soft contrast, a gentle peck to my lips. I never would have considered being possessed by Jun before, but I give myself to him now. Readily.
“God. Please,” I whimper, unsure of what I’m begging for.
“Not a god.” Chuckles and curls curling his fingers, rubbing against my sensitive spot. “Don’t you know better than to pray to a demon?”
“Not when it’s the devil I want.”
His fingers are at my throat again, claws dragging over my sensitive skin. “Is that what you want? Tell me.”
I nod uselessly, my legs spreading wider. “Fuck me. Fill me.”
I take his horns in both hands and drag his face closer to mine.
The red of his eyes flashes a bright scarlet, and a growl falls from his lips. His fingers are gone, and, finally, his body settles between my legs.
“You don’t know what it means to touch a demon’s horns,” he says.
“Then tell me.”
“It means I trust you.” He drags his length along my folds. “And it feels like—”
I squeeze his horn harder.
He grunts. “Fuck. You can’t imagine what it feels like, princess.”
“But you like it?”
He nods, wetting his lips.
To be trusted by Jun, to touch him where no one else can, it means something. My mind is too empty to consider what that may be.
“Is it safe?” he asks, pressing his tip to my entrance.
I nod, my chest heaving with each shaking breath I take. “It’s safe. Fuck me.”
It’s the last confirmation he needs to push in, giving himself to me inch by inch. My legs wrap around his waist, keeping him in place, and I tighten my grasp on his horns. He seems to like that, grunts and growls turning to desperate moans, his hips sputtering.
“Does that feel nice?” I croon, stroking my thumb against the tip of a horn.
“Yes.” He pushes in to the hilt. “Fuck. You’re evil.”
“You like it.”
Our eyes lock. He can see me, and I can see him. When he pushes in, it’s as if he’s trying to savor each stroke. We moan together, the sounds lost between our lips, exchanging wet kisses as we lose ourselves in pleasure.
I feel what he feels, and he feels what I do. Somewhere, in the middle of it, I know the hatred between us is gone—it’s become something else, and I wonder if it was ever hatred at all.
“What are you doing to me?” he mutters, thrusting harder. “You feel like heaven, like this devil can finally get a piece of the sky.”
It’s impossible. We’re both beings of death, but when we meet… it becomes divine.
I could ask him the same question, but I don’t. Desire buries the words. He’s enough to warm my frigid bones. When we connect, we are more than what we are.
His fingers brush against my clit, but I hardly need the touch to fall apart in his arms. I could come from feeling his desire, from him filling me to the brim until I’m trembling under him.
My hands cling to his horns as his rutting ceases. His lips press to my jaw, leaving behind kisses so tender they make me feel sacred. Together we, the damned ones, are indeed holy.
Coming has never felt like this before.
Jun and I return to the celebrating students, but we certainly don’t return to our normal state. Electricity buzzes through me as we walk through the hallway, our fingers weaved together and his face flushed red. It reminds me of the way he tastes, of his pulse point under my fingers, and—
Professor Connolly appears when we’re on our way out. Her presence is jolting. Now that I’m freshly fed, my face is likely as red as Jun’s.