Page 131 of Demon's Beauty

Sweating, shaking, panting, utterly boneless and spent as we both collapse into the mattress, for a few long minutes there’s nothing but this. Nothing but me and my demon, the rest of the world be damned.

Eventually, he rolls us so we’re on our sides—still joined by his knot—with him spooned behind me.

“Will we be like this for a while?” I ask.

Finn gives his hips an experimental little thrust, and we both groan.

He kisses the back of my neck. “I think so.”

“Thinkso?”

“Yes.” Another kiss, with a bit of fang this time. “I’ve never knotted anyone else before, so I don’t know how long it lasts.”

“Never?”

“Never,” he says solemnly, and a rush of satisfaction settles in my chest.

“And you never will, either,” I tell him, altogether too confident given the uncertain state of things, but unwilling to let the moment pass unacknowledged.

“No, sunshine,” he says, tender enough to make tears prick at the backs of my eyes. “I won’t. Never with anyone but you.”

I relax into him, fully ready to savor these moments for as long as they last, for as long as his knot stays in me.

But I don’t get the chance.

Sleep crowds in, nudging me insistently after the week I’ve had and the amount of pleasure that’s been wrung from my body. I try to fight it, but it’s no use. I drift off with Finn inside me, feeling safer and more at peace than I have in a long, long time.

41

Finn

I wake still buried deep inside my mate.

My cock is only half-hard, but growing rapidly as I come back to consciousness. I try to ease out of her, pull back, but I’m stopped by her firm grip on my hip.

Soleil’s blunt little nails dig into my ass as she reaches back to hold me in place. Her hips arch to chase my retreating cock, and her voice is husky with sleep.

“Leave it in,” she orders, bossy even when she’s still half-dreaming.

“If I do that,” I say gruffly, already thrusting back into her. “I’m going to knot you again.”

“Good.”

I curse low under my breath, powerless to do anything but give her what she wants, cock and knot swelling too fast to do a damn thing about it, anyway. I’m lodged so deep within her that by the time I’m fully hard, she’s knotted, and she cries out as an orgasm takes hold of her, swift and all-consuming.

I’m nearly certain her nails have left marks on me as her climax abates, and fuck I hope I’m right. I’d love to see my wicked little witch leave evidence of her claim all over me.

“What did I tell you?” I rumble against the side of her throat, fangs pressed to skin as I rut her.

It’s the final barrier we haven’t crossed, the claim I haven’t made.

I’d bite her in a heartbeat, leave my mark, drink so deep she’d live inside me forever.

But I can’t.

Not now.

I don’t know if my heart could take it.