Erevos pressed forward again, deeper, firmer, the friction drawing a strained sound from her throat as pain and pleasure tangled tightly together.
It hurt, but she loved it.
She loved the way he watched her face as he moved, pumping into her again and again. She loved the way he held her, as though determined not to let her slip away.
The rhythm built gradually, his restraint thinning as the sensation overtook him. His movements growing stronger, faster, the table shifting faintly beneath them with each thrust.
He lifted her slightly, sliding her more fully onto him until her body arched and her hips tilted upward, her weight balanced in his grasp, and the new angle made her cry out louder, her nails scraping along the wood behind her.
He moved her with him then—guiding her back and forth along his length—until the world blurred at the edges of her sight.
Her pleasure rose fast, cresting before she could prepare for it, her body tightening around him as she gasped his name in broken syllables, her release tearing through her in a wave so intense it left her trembling in his hands.
Erevos stilled for only a fraction of a second, then he groaned low and rough, burying himself fully within her as his own release followed, heat spilling deep as his shadows flared violently around the room.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Lyssena sagged against him, breathless and dizzy, trying her best to hold on to him.
Erevos held her there, as though he had claimed not merely her body, but the future she did not yet know awaited her.
Chapter Thirty-Four
To Kiss a Demon
Erevos
For a long moment after their bodies stilled, Erevos did not move.
Lyssena remained on his cock, her arms loose on his torso, her breath shallow and spent against his chest, and he was acutely aware of every place where they were still joined, of the warmth enclosing him, of the pulse inside her that had not yet settled.
He felt . . . different. Full.
When he finally moved, easing his hands more securely beneath her thighs, he lifted her slowly, and the motion caused his still semi-hardened cock to slide free of her body with a slow, slick withdrawal that drew a sensitive tremor through them both.
Erevos watched the place where they separated. Her body released him reluctantly, and a thick trail of his seed followedafter, spilling down the inside of her thigh in dark streaks that glistened against her flushed skin.
He stared.
Demons did not reproduce. They did not spill seed, and yet he had.
He adjusted his hold on her, cradling her closer against his chest. Lyssena’s head rested just beneath his chin, her hair damp at the temples, her lashes heavy as she looked up at him with that soft, open gaze that made something inside his chest grow unbearably warm. He had barely cooled from their mating, and already that look burned heat through him again.
“Erevos,” she murmured, her voice faint and breath-warmed, “do you . . . want to kiss?”
The question caught him off guard. “Kiss,” he repeated.
She nodded, her expression turning shy. “I have never done it before,” she admitted, her fingers curling lightly against his chest. “But I think I would like to try.”
Her gaze flickered to his mouth, or rather, to the sharp rows of teeth that filled it.
“I am only . . . uncertain,” she added, “because you have so many of those.”
Erevos had devoured fear with those teeth. Therefore, he had never considered them an obstacle.
“How,” he asked, his voice gentler than its usual timbre, “should I kiss you?”
Lyssena hesitated, then lifted both hands slowly and placed them on his face; her palms were warm against the shadowed planes of him. Her touch alone made him still.
