Page 22 of How Not to Date a Demon

Let’s be real.

She’d been wet ever since she changed her piercings. Imagining his reaction, wondering what he’d do when he saw them.

Galen’s hand twitched on the mattress, and then white filled her vision as she gasped.

“Oosh!” she complained, and then pouted as the sheet fluttered to her feet. “Galen,” she whined. “I wanted to do the big reveal.”

“None needed,” he said, eyes firmly locked on her own. “You’re stunning enough.”

His heated gaze trailed over her like a tangible caress, warm and hopelessly obsessive as he lingered over her figure.

Oh, that was what made her blush?

“I wanna touch you,” he breathed, dark eyes glimmering as he crawled over her on the bed. Despite his words, almost a plea—that wouldn’t be on repeat in her mind for the next week—their skin didn’t so much as brush as he carefully balanced himself above her.

“You’re like a goddamned dream,” he mused as his gaze drifted to her face, lingering on her lips for just a second more.

Lying still beneath him, she waited for Galen to come to her.

And he did, just like she knew he always would, head lowering to hers with something close to awe in his expression.

It was a sweet kiss, golden honey dripped onto her lips. With a sweet tooth like hers, she couldn’t help but brush her tongue out for a taste.

His mouth actually wavered against hers, breath shuddering out to spill across her cheeks before he swallowed the distance between them.

Their mouths were the only point of contact between their bodies, a bridge between two entire continents—or at least, that was how she felt, shivering from the desire. If only he’d touch her.

But Maeve wanted him to want her enough to endure the awkwardness of asking permission.

She loved when Galen asked permission.

So she kissed him and fisted her hands in the sheet to keep from reaching for him. When the kiss finally broke in exchange for a breath, Galen groaned.

“Fuck, look at you.” His gaze traced her features, the line of her throat, lower. “I have to touch you. Please let me touch you,” he whispered.

His hand was already lifting from beside her head as she nodded.

And because Galen was wonderfully, absolutely in love with her, the first thing he did was cup the back of her neck, fingers sliding through dark locks and thumb brushing over her jaw. He tilted her head up, and she let him pull her to him, lips brushing hers in nothing more than a caress. A taste, his soft hum rumbling against her lips, and finally, he crushed their lips together.

His thumb stroked her cheek in the softest of touches, while their lips melted together. It dissolved into messy, desperate need as she nipped his lip, and he slid his tongue between hers. She unclenched her hands from the sheets and stroked her fingers over the strong line of his shoulders, tugging at him.

Galen stubbornly refused to let himself fall atop her like she wanted. He could crush her into the mattress, and she’d say thank you, a plea dripping from her lips. An idea struck her, and she grinned into the kiss as she trailed a hand off his shoulder, down the front of his body, his pecs and flat, strong stomach, until the rough material of the towel brushed her fingertips.

She located the fold at his hips and wiggled her fingers on the other side of it before unraveling it with a gentle tug. Success, she thought as the fabric fell open, and she tugged it off, dropping it along the side of the bed without a second thought. As soon as her hand was free, she placed it back on his hip, tracing the long line of his side, back to his shoulders.

Galen’s skin was especially warm from the shower, and she sighed, breath sliding past their lips as she traced and touched every part of him—chastely. So caught up in him, the beauty of him and knowing he was hers that she almost forgot she was to be his surprise.

“Trying to steal my thunder?” he teased once he parted the kiss.

“Can’t help it. You look so good in… nothing.”

“You’re one to talk. Fuck, just look at you,” he murmured.

“You can do more than look,” she hinted, and maybe it was the soft tone of her voice that snapped him out of it.

He finally let his weight fall onto her, and she shivered as his warm skin finally met hers, thigh to chest, and then lips again as he took her mouth. He pressed her into the bed, and she couldn’t so much as rock against the thigh pressed between hers.

She loved it, loved how he made her hold back so he could take his time.