"Not love?"
He flinched like I'd struck him. "I don't know what love is. I've never—I can't—" His voice broke completely. "I built a shrine because I didn't know what else to do with these feelings. I collected pieces of you because they're the only things that make me feelreal. I've been kneeling in this room for hours, chanting devotions I invented, because the thought of facing you and admitting any of this terrifies me more than anything I've encountered in three thousand years of existence."
I reached for him. He jerked back, his eyes wild.
"Don't. If you touch me right now, I'll—I can't control—"
"Then don't control it." I stepped closer, closing the distance he'd tried to create. "Whatever happens, I can take it. I want to take it."
"Lizzie—"
I took his hand.
The contact was electric. His demon magic flared, golden light spilling from his skin and washing over me in a wave of pure sensation—warmth and pleasure and something deeper, something that felt like beingseenfor the first time in my life. He gasped, trying to pull away, but I held on.
"Stay," I said. "Stay with me."
He stared at our joined hands, his chest heaving. "I don't know how."
"Then let me show you."
I guided him to the nest of cushions on the floor, lowering myself to my knees and pulling him down with me. The candles flickered around us, their flames burning brighter, and I felt the demon magic humming in the air, responding to his emotions—toouremotions.
He was trembling. The most powerful creature I'd ever encountered wastrembling.
"What do you need?" I asked softly. "Tell me. Whatever it is, I'll give it to you."
His golden eyes met mine, raw and vulnerable and utterly lost. "I need to worship you. Properly. Not from a distance, not with scraps and shadows. I need to show you what you are to me." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Please. Let me worship you."
My breath caught. "Yes."
Something shifted in his expression—relief, maybe, or wonder. He raised my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to my palm, soft and reverent. Then he released me and sat back on his heels, his golden eyes never leaving mine.
"I want you to use me," he said, his voice steady now, filled with a quiet intensity. "I want to taste you. I want to feel you come apart on my tongue. I want you to take your pleasure from me and give nothing back." His lips curved in a faint,devastating smile. "Taint me, Lizzie. Let me taste what it means to be human."
I was already wet, already aching, and his words sent a fresh wave of heat through my core. I rose on shaky legs and shed my clothes—the simple dress I'd worn, my underwear, everything. When I was bare before him, he made a sound that was almost pained.
"Beautiful," he breathed. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
I lowered myself onto the cushions, positioning myself above his face. He lay back, looking up at me with those golden eyes, and I saw the hunger there—not the predatory hunger of Lucien or the controlled hunger of Darius, but something deeper. Something sacred.
"Use me," he repeated, his voice rough. "Take what you need."
I lowered myself onto his mouth.
The first touch of his tongue was electric—demon magic sparking against my most sensitive flesh, sending shockwaves through my entire body. I cried out, my hands fisting in his white hair, and he groaned against me, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. His tongue moved with devastating precision, tracing my folds, circling my clit, dipping inside me like he was memorizing my taste.
"Azrael—" His name was a sob. "Oh God,Azrael—"
He didn't answer. Couldn't answer. His mouth was too busy worshipping me, his tongue working me with a devotion that bordered on obsession. I rode his face, my hips rolling in desperate rhythm, and he took everything I gave him—licking, sucking, devouring me like I was the only sustenance he'd ever need.
The demon magic built around us, golden light pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I felt it everywhere—in my clit, inmy core, in the very air I was breathing. It amplified every sensation, made every stroke of his tongue feel like a revelation. I was climbing, rising toward a peak that promised to be unlike anything I'd ever experienced.
"Close," I gasped. "I'm close—"
He doubled his efforts, his tongue working my clit with relentless precision, his hands gripping my thighs hard enough to bruise. The golden light intensified, and I felt the magic building, building,building—
I came.
