Page 102 of The Fake Divination Offense
“You don’t need to research,” he says. “I can tell you anything you want to know about the ritual or the cult. I’m a walking, talking, dancing encyclopedia of demon lord knowledge. You don’t need those books. For instance, I can tell you that this”—he waves at the apartment, encompassing the wards, the general security I’ve offered—“is as far as you can protect me. There’s no secret way out. You’d have to change who I am.”
I give him an unintimidated stare. “I’m not going to stop looking for a way to save you. I’m not going to accept that this is the rest of your life.”
He smiles, but it’s tinged by that resignation I hate on him so much. That he’s given up to his fate, like he expects the cult to get him one day, and there’s no other hope.
“Do we have to think so far ahead?” he asks. “I’m happier than I’ve been in almost a decade. I want to enjoy being safe. Withyou. You can’t stop an entire cult, and I don’t expect you to. What you’re doing is more than enough.”
But it’s not enough for me.
While Bel may only be thinking in the day-to-day, chopping survival into immediate moments, I’m greedy. I don’t just want moments.
I want years.
I want a lifetime.
Rather than continue this conversation, I twist down to brush my lips across his jaw.
“Have I told you lately that I’m glad you’re here?” I breathe the words into his ear and he, predictably, shivers.
I love that I know exactly what buttons to push to get reactions out of him.
“Prove it.” He bumps his hardening cock against my leg, and I chuckle over a groan.
We’ve only traded hand jobs and sloppy blow jobs the past week. Much to Bel’s disappointment—but it was risky enough fucking him with my admittedly monster cock for his first time. I want to make sure he recovers, that we ease into anything like regularity.
It has been a week, though.
And today is going to be a roller coaster of shit from the start, so maybe it’ll help pad the bumps to know there’s something good waiting at the end.
I bite his neck above the pearls, and suck, a flash of aggression he wasn’t expecting by the way he chirps and wriggles against me.
“Orok.” My name comes in a moan and I suck harder, getting a mewl, another sexy wriggle.
“Tonight,” I say into the spot I abused, dragging my lips back and forth over it. “You good to give me your ass tonight, sweetheart?”
Bel whines, the roll of his exhale across my chest making my nipples tighten. “Yes. Gods, yes. Please.”
I smile. Even with the stress of researching the cult and fielding today’s events, my face hurts—I’ve been smiling nonstop.
He drags his nose through my chest hair, nuzzling, and asks, “Is that our reward for surviving lunch with your parents?”
My head drops back on a disgruntled moan. “Please don’t link sex to my parents.”
Bel pulls away with a laugh, his gaze dragging down my body again before he swats me with the dishcloth. “Get dressed, or we’re both going to be really, really late.”
“Might miss the game entirely.” I loosen the towel and let it drop. “Oh no. That’d be awful.”
Bel adjusts himself through his sweatpants, eyes hot on my hard dick.
Would it be so bad if I… didn’t play today?
Yes. No less because I’d lose my contract and be unable to pay for Bel’s safety.
But I’d also look like a coward to my old team.
I grab my boxers next to the suit—did he iron these, too? Gods—and tug them on as Bel’s hungry look fades.
“You’re going to kick the Chimeras’ asses today,” he tells me. “Like, an embarrassing win. They’re going to cry.”
