But not until she asked. Which meant denying his most primal instincts and subjecting his cock and balls to excruciating pain. “Do you want your husband to keep fingering your pussy?”

Her breathtaking body writhed in the water, those flawless tits quivering. “Yes, yes!”

He wanted to roar his victory, but he was losing control. He’d been so confident that he could maintain it with her—because he had so easily with other females.

Once I enter my mate’s body . . . His resulting culmination, spending in the throes, would rob him of sanity, not to mention all restraint.

His body had been built to kill; hers could barely accept one of his fingers.

He was glad he wouldn’t be claiming her until she asked. They had time. Unfortunately, his instinct wouldn’t rest until he’d marked her. Somehow a male like him would have to go through the most intense and powerful transition in his long life—gently.

Even now he teetered on the edge. Could she handle what was about to be unleashed?

 

This demon was a sex god. His voice, his reactions, and his sinful touch all combined to make Lila wild for him.

How had she lived without this?

At first, she’d been nervous about his finger inside her, but the pressure felt wonderful, necessary. Shameless, she said, “I-I need my husband to make me come!”

He rested his forehead against hers. “Look at me.” Their gazes locked. His eyes were black as jet. “When I claim you, nothing will stop me from giving you this kind of pleasure.”

Right then, she was ready. Sign her up. Anything.

In Demonish, he said, “We will wait until your body’s prepared for me.”

It was! Once she hovered on the very brink, he held his finger still inside her.

“Nooo!” She reached down, crazed enough to do it herself.

“Ah-ah.” He gently captured her wrists with his free hand.

“Abyssian!” She rocked on his finger, sending it in and out of her, fucking herself.

His glyphs were on fire. “I can’t take much more of this, beauty.” He couldn’t? “Nearing the point of no return. I’m going to bring you off.”

“DO IT!”

He gave a strained laugh. “My fey mate loves her pleasure. Doesn’t like to be denied it.”

He released her wrists. With one forefinger still inside her, he used his other to cover her throbbing clitoris. “You want my touch here?”

“Yes!”

“On this needy little bud?”

She whimpered, tremors of her orgasm beginning. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

“What will you do for it?”

“Anything, demon!”

“Good girl. Come for me.” He rubbed her and finger-fucked—

“Ahhh!” Coiling pressure . . . released. Bliss exploded, sending her flying. She screamed as her core contracted on the demon’s big finger.

He growled, “I feel you! Feel your tight pussy coming for me.”

His voice spurred another series of contractions that went on and on. . . .

THIRTY-ONE

My mate’s virginal sheath . . . milking my finger . . . as I bring her to come.

Too much . . . Sian nigh lost his senses. Had to fight not to spontaneously culminate. His hand—steady for lifetimes—shook wildly as he drew out her orgasm.

Once she was spent, she closed her legs and pushed at his wrist.

He shuddered as he removed his finger from her body, reluctantly surrendering his prize. He would never get enough of her quivering tits, her gripping pussy, her desperate moans. The way she called him husband and looked at him with trust. Want her so fucking much!

She was pleasure godsdamned embodied.

“Abyssian?” she said, her voice uncertain. “You look really . . . demonic.”

The unbearable pressure racking his body demanded release. He’d be finished with one pump of his shaft. “Slake me, wife.”

“How?”

He took her hand and raised it to his face. He kissed her palm. Flicked it with his tongue. Rubbed his cheek against it. Then he placed it high on his chest, dragging it down. “Touch me. Touch my cock.”

Every time he mentioned his cock, her ears twitched, and her eyes grew brighter. Wicked little female. She rose to stand between his thighs. With a trembling hand, she caressed the length of a glyph.

He sucked in a breath. Exploring me? He’d expected her to tend him in a perfunctory manner. If she knew how close he was to coming . . . He was almost fearful of his impending release.

Eyes watchful, she did it again. “Your skin is hot like fire, and when these glow they look like flames.” Another light stroke. “Are they sensitive? Do you like them to be touched?”

He sensed her rebounding excitement, and it made his shaft jerk in the water. “Yes.” He stared into her eyes. Between breaths, he said, “No part of me . . . is off-limits to you. Touch where you will.”

She surprised him by reaching for one of his wings.

 

Lila smoothed her palm over the exterior of a wing. That side was roughened like callused skin, yet he seemed to feel even the slightest contact. His muscles rippled when she lightly raked her nails across it.

After the orgasm he’d just given her, she was more curious about her new husband—about what made him . . . demonic. “You don’t fly a lot?”

He shook his head. “I trace too easily. They’re more for battle.”

She let go of his wing. Always back to war with this one. The impulse to touch his horns struck her, but she held off. She reached down and began trailing her fingers up his neck. He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple moving between her fingertips.

She grazed her knuckles along his wide jawline and his prominent chin. Tracing the piercings above the bridge of his nose, she asked, “Did these hurt?”

“Fleetingly.”

She cradled his face, then smoothed her thumbs over his sharp cheekbones, his stern brow, his sensual lips. . . .

The gold band on her ring finger glinted in the firelight—a wedding ring of sorts.

Returning her attention to his chest, she traced a fingertip over one of his pierced nipples.

He inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. His wings fluttered uncontrollably. Sensitive!

She grazed him again, and he groaned, his brows drawing together as if she’d struck him.