Page 95 of Demon's Beauty

I take him deeper.

Lips parted around the thick length of him, I take him as deep as I can. It’s not really that deep at all, considering how much male I’m working with here, but with each dip of my head, I get the hang of it a little more.

I find a rhythm, find the places I can stroke my tongue to draw more of those delicious groans out of him, give him a moan of encouragement when he threads one hand into my hair and thrusts.

Not too much, and not too rough, but uneven and desperate. His breathing grows shallower, his moans more ragged.

“Soleil,” he rasps. “I’m going to… if you don’t want…”

There’s literally nothing more I want in this moment.

I grip his firm, muscular ass, pull him closer, take him deeper until he hits the back of my throat and—

Finn comes with another strangled curse, with a burst of magick between us that fills my veins with embers and satisfaction. His release splashes hot and earthy across my tongue, and I swallow every drop.

He pulls out of my mouth and falls to his knees beside the tub, the tremors of his climax still shaking through his body, his wings, his breath as he rests his forehead against the edge.

I slide back into the water, leaning over so I can kiss the top of his head, run my hands through his blond curls, nuzzle my cheek against the curve of his horn while the glowing strands of our bond pulse between us.

“Did the service meet your expectations?” I tease, and he glances up, crimson eyes sparkling and a devastatingly handsome smirk making a dimple appear in his cheek.

Dangerous, that look.

I could get addicted to it, if I’m not careful.

I could stay here in this beautiful realm if it meant seeing it every day. If it meant he’d look at me just like he’s looking now—like I’m the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen.

28

Soleil

Somehow, Finn and I make it out of the inn.

Barely. And only because once I get cleaned up and he takes a turn for his own bath, he shoos me out of the room.

“There’s absolutely no way either of us are making it to my mother’s house if you stay here and help me wash up.”

Giggling—goddess, I do more giggling these days than I’ve ever done in my damn life—I head into the bedroom and contemplate the clothes I have with me.

Nothing screams ‘meeting potential future in-laws’, and the longer I look, the heavier the weight in the bottom of my gut becomes.

Meeting the future in-laws.

Meeting Finn’s mother, his sister, when the two of us barely know what we are to each other.

Maybe it’s a bad idea.

An especially bad idea, considering I have nothing to wear.

Though I dig and dig through the options, they’re all pretty much the same.

Practical work clothes, mostly in shades of black because when you work with potions, you never know what color stains you’re going to wind up with on any given day.

Nothing even remotely suitable for meeting Finn’s family.

I’m still standing there, staring forlornly at every piece of clothing I had tucked into my satchel—now spread haphazardly across the bed—when Finn comes out of the bathroom.

All thoughts of clothes are forgotten.