Page 10 of How Not to Date a Demon

Her gaze dripped over him from head to toe, and he loved when her eyes went dark like that. Maeve was weak for him in a suit, and he was just as weak for her, for pleasing her.

“Besides," he continued, "It's not like you can say much else." Galen was far too excited about being right as she glanced down at her own clothes and found an oversized black shirt.

“The shirt belongs to you, so it doesn’t count,” she retorted.

Galen sat the bowls down and grinned as the puppies rushed to claim their food.

While they were busy, he washed his hands and glanced over his shoulder.

“It looks better on you anyway.”

She arched a brow at him and leaned against the doorway. “Is that so?”

Galen turned, making his way around the kitchen island and stalking his way toward the entrance. Toward the woman taunting him while looking far too delicious in his clothes.

Her fingers tightened around the hem, and she fluttered it over her thighs to tease him.

“Maeve,” he warned, pulse speeding up as she smiled at him.

“Hmm?” With her plump smile bitten between her teeth, she began walking backwards. He followed her slowly, as if she was a siren and he a lonely sailor.

At the look in her eyes, he darted toward her, and she took off with a squeal. Heart pounding, he raced after her like a madman. However, karma had different plans as the three puppies joined in on playtime and nipped at his ankles. Staggering, he hopped from foot to foot to avoid stepping on the clumsy pups, right up until he tripped.

He crashed to the floor, and the puppies pounced, tails wagging and excited yelps blending with Maeve’s giggles to echo around their home.

Their home.

He’d never felt more comfortable anywhere else with any other person. He sighed, the smitten man that he was, and cleared his throat.

“Darling, you have exactly ten seconds to get to the bedroom before I carry you there.”

Sitting up, he met her gaze and saw a flash of heat before she took off.

He made a production with the way he got up, thumping his heeled boots down with each step for dramatic effect. The puppies spilled off him and leapt around until he snapped his fingers at them.

They stilled, sitting on their haunches and staring up at him.

“Be good,” he said simply.

The puppies trotted off past him, and seconds later, he heard the kibbles from their bowls skittering around as they ate.

Finally, with no distractions in his way, he crossed the hardwood floor to the bedroom with the door cracked. He paused with his hand on the doorframe and pressed a finger against the wooden door.

It swung open slowly, revealing Maeve in the middle of their bed, legs splayed wide as the hand between her thighs moved rhythmically.

“What’s this?” he asked, voice low.

The heat Maeve always stirred within him sparked from embers into the initial flickers of a flame.

She lifted her head up, eyes half-lidded as she let her hand fall away, granting him a teasing glance before she folded her thighs together.

“It’s been more than ten seconds,” she explained. “I got bored.”

He hummed and closed the door behind himself, stalking forward and placing two palms on the edge of the bed before he crawled toward Maeve.

She was wearing one of his black shirts and nothing else. With a low growl, he caged her in with his arms and legs and stared down at her. Heat flared in her gaze, and she bit her lip in the most infuriatingly hot way.

Unable to resist, he leaned down and soothed the abused flesh, lips soft and warm against his.