The Demon's Bargain (A Deal With a Demon #4)(26)

They kiss me like the kiss is the main event. As if they’re not rushing on to the next bit. As if they don’t care if we run out of time and don’t get around to fucking. As if the kiss has them as drugged and devastated as it has me.

They cradle my face with one hand, tilting my jaw to deepen the kiss. Gods, it’s too good. I can almost convince myself that they care, that they cherish me as much as their body is conveying. It’s not the truth. This is just sex, and if it’s sex with someone I actually like, that doesn’t change the result.

I have no future with Ramanu.

Even if I took their deal, the power imbalance between us would always sway in their favor. We would never stand on equal ground, and no matter how much they seem to value me, that is something I need.

I want a partner. A full partner. I don’t know if that’s in the cards for me, but it certainly isn’t with this demon.

The realization hurts far more than it has any right to.

They break the kiss and ease back just enough to say, “Stop that.”

I can’t even pretend I don’t know what they’re talking about. Even as distracted as they are with kissing me, surely they can see the mess my emotions are right now. “What color is lust?”

For a moment, I think they won’t engage, but they finally press a kiss to my jaw. “Bright pink. Neon, really.” They drag their mouth down my neck. “It’s pretty. Like you.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what color love is, but I chicken out before the words can cross my lips. It doesn’t matter. There might be attraction and a thread that could become genuine caring between us, but I’ve known this demon less than twenty-four hours. Love isn’t even in the realm of possibilities. I whimper as they set their teeth against my neck. “You’re pretty, too.”

“I know.”

That surprises a laugh out of me. “Yeah, I guess you would. No false modesty for you.”

“It’s a waste of time.”

I laugh again and stroke my hands down their back. I don’t dig my nails in, but I love the way they shiver against me in response to the slight prick of the points. “You’re right. It is a waste of time.” I kiss their jaw, their throat, their shoulder. “Let me up. We both need this.”

“Do you even know what you need, little witch?” Their voice is low and sinful in my ear. They roll their hips a little, their cock rubbing against my clit. It feels good. Really good. They nip my earlobe. “I don’t think you do. So defensive. Such high walls. Such lovely spikes.”

My head is spinning with pleasure, but their words feel like someone throwing rocks through my living room window. “I didn’t ask for you to…ah.” They roll their hips again—another long drag of their hard length against me. I drag in a rough breath. “This is just sex.”

“No, it’s not.” They shift back onto their heels. “You like me. I like you. That’s more than just fucking.”

They’re right. I hate that they’re right. I can’t quite catch my breath, can’t think, can’t do anything but sit up to close the new distance between us. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s a different argument altogether.” They kiss me hard. “It means something to me, Lenora. You mean something to me.”

I press my palm to their horn, a tiny prick of pain blossoming there. Maybe it’s not wise to use magic for this, but they’ve just spent so much time taking care of me. I want to return the favor. I want them to know this means something to me, too, even if it was doomed from the start.

I speak the required words, and magic surges from my palm. It’s a similar spell to the ribbons, with magic forming the harness around my hips and the attached strap-on.

Ramanu makes a sound that’s almost a whimper. “What is that?” They drag one claw down it’s bright pink length and then truly whimper when it twitches in response.

“What’s the point of a magic strap if it’s not magic?” I nudge them back and slide out from beneath them. Then I walk to the gift basket on the dresser that neither of us bothered to unpack earlier. Sure enough, there’s a cute little bottle of lube nestled between a package of cookies and a coupon for a free tarot reading.

Ramanu hasn’t moved from their position. I consider our options. “Do you want top or bottom?”

“Bottom.”

That makes things easier and gives me more control. “On your stomach.”

They obey at once. I move to straddle their hips. For all my impatience earlier, I’m not about to rush this now. It’s a relief to focus on Ramanu and this moment. I’m in control. Even if that only as lasts until our next orgasm, it’s enough to make the ground feel steadier beneath my feet.

I drag my nails lightly down their back and then follow the faint scratches with my mouth. Teasing them. Taking care of them. By the time I reach the small of their back, Ramanu is shaking. Gods, but I like that.

It’s not enough, though. I want everything.

I move off the bed and tug on their hips until they follow me back. “Turn over.”

“Lenora—”

“Let me take care of you, Ramanu. Don’t make me beg.”

They aren’t quite as coordinated as usual. I like that. A lot. So much so that I push back my own need and repeat the process to their chest. Nails, then mouth. This time, I don’t stop at their hips, though. I suck their cock into my mouth and then spend several long seconds teasing them. Licking down their length. Flicking the head with my tongue. Playing with them until their thighs shake and they’re making that delicious whimpering sound.