Page 82 of Demon Food

This was not a dream or some cruel hallucination. He was nestled in my arms, sleeping so serenely with his back huddled against my chest, the chain warm between our bodies. It was like we were two lovers cuddling after a long night of passion.

Except we sure fucking weren’t. We were captor and captive. Hunter and prey.

Even if a fire had sparked last night. It was maybe even more than a fire. It was almost like the threads of a true bond had formed when we’d stayed up far too late talking.

I’d never had such an honest conversation with a human, possibly with anyone. He bravely asked me one million questions about my body, my wishes, and my plans for my future self—Where did you find these herbs? Can you get more? A doctor? What kind of a doctor? What do you mean he’s going to fix you? Tell me more. Tell me everything.

I didn’t have a million answers, but I’d shared what I knew. I’d shared my secrets with him.

It was like this exquisite human with his exquisite blue eyes had declared himself part of my life. Part of my plans. He even made us track down all the cigarettes in my chamber and line them up inside my desk drawer.

Seven. I only had seven. So long as I could use them sparingly, it was just enough to get me through his remaining days here, but I had to exercise restraint.

Not that this current situation was helping my need to smoke less.

My shoulders twitched as I licked my lips, leaning away from Feloré, just enough to glimpse the long silhouette of his spine. He was shirtless. I wished he was pantless.

The memories from last night were still painted vividly onto the walls of my mind, the metallic sting of his precious blood still on my tongue.

He’d thought about me. This sexy human chose to think about me as he pleasured himself. I got to tell him what I wanted to do to him. I got to taste his delicious cum—feel it dripping down my fingers, still so warm.

Feed me.

Well, fuck. My cock was all the way hard, the monster inside of me rising from my depths. The arm he lay atop was all the way asleep, which was fine. Let it fall off for all I cared, so long as it meant I got to stay here.

If I could somehow smoke without waking him. Without moving the succulent spiced dessert in my arms.

Perhaps, I could project a cigarette to me, but then the coughing would wake him.

Feed ME.

Goddammit. I died a little inside, but I gripped his shoulder and gently shook. “Feloré.”

He didn’t budge, his breathing slow with sleep. It’d been a long night, and he deserved to rest, but it was only a few minutes before it was going to get dangerous.

“Feloré.” I shook him again. “Human. You need to⁠—”

He whimpered in his sleep. Then he wiggled his perfect ass against my cock, and I twitched harder.

FEED ME.

Oh, it fit just right. If I could see through the sheets and our trousers, I’d see how my cock was slipping perfectly between his gorgeous ass cheeks. Housed like a pistil inside soft petals. I pressed my hips against his to feel the thrill, my mouth watering.

EAT. EAT HIM.

I’d bet my eyes were turning red. I should so clearly stop.

“Feloré,” I said, shaking him harder. “Wake up⁠—”

“Shhh,” he whined, swatting a hand, his words slurred. “Isss too loud.”

I gave the back of his head a look, but not before a smile split my face. The blessed absurdity. I added a touch of silk to my voice as I said, “Well, it’s not my fault you kept me up so late, human⁠—”

“Shhh,” he said, drowsily. “For goddsake, Alek. Fuck-quiet.”

I squinted. Fuck-quiet?

“Thass better.” He reached back over his shoulder, patting my face in what I could only describe as sloppy slaps. “Nice boy.”