Page 12 of On the Menu

There. He’d done one thing right in a universe of mistakes and sins. “Tell me no,” he repeated gently.

“But why? I want to say yes to you. To anything you ask me. Or tell me to do,” Cara looked at him, hands on her hips, thumbs tucked under black leggings, ready to show him those slender thighs he was desperate to get between.

“Remember how I said I had never met anyone I’d marry? Well, I have now. But before you—I was a horrible person. Not a person worthy of you. And it would kill me to leave you—” he swallowed, considering that it probably would. He wouldn’t be able to go back to his old life, or his old ways, not after a taste of the real thing, “but I’d do it if you wanted me to.”

Cara’s scent, so rich and succulent seconds ago, became confused, like bittersweet chocolate on his palate, just a touch too dark and unpleasant. “You can’t play games like this with me.”

“I’m not! Oh, I swear I’m not, Cara. I want to stay. I just wish... I wish I could tell you that I’m the kind of man you deserve.”

“You’re the man who wants to see me happy. Who has eyes only for me. You’re the man who makes me believe I’m worthy of good things.” She stroked his face. “That I’m never outclassed.”

“You’re in a class by yourself, gorgeous,” he admitted, stroking her long locks as she came closer, head to his. “I do believe that. I want to be in your life in a way that I’ve never wanted anything before. And because you’re my strong girl, a woman who still gets excited over pretty leaves while kicking asses in accounting,” they shared a wry smile, “you know you could tell me to beat it, and you’d have a thousand kings lining up for you tomorrow.”

“I don’t want them. I want you. And if this is reverse psychology to make me fall in love with you, then tell you to leave so I beg you to stay—”

“I swear it’s not!” he gave her a desperate little shake.

“Either way, it’s working. Don’t go, Stray. Stay.” She kissed him on the lips and pulled back with a smirk. “Good boy.”

He had to laugh, relief slowly trickling through him. “I want to stay with you, forever. My soul needs yours to heal it, Cara.”

“I know,” she whispered, kissing him harder. “I don’t know quite how I know, but I do. And if I heal you,” her sweet look turned impish, “doesn’t that make me your ‘very good girl’?”

Oh, God. She knew how to stroke every single weak spot he possessed and create new ones while she was at it. “My best. My one and only.” He scooped her up again, striding from the living room into her bedroom.

The body he’d been dreaming of for days was soft and slender with areas of ripeness, swelling breasts that fell gently to the sides, hips that had the faintest silvery spiderwebs of skin stretched with her shape—and what a shape. His mouth clamped onto her hipbone, and he moaned against the smooth, pliable curve of her flesh over it. Dug his fingers into her curls and kissed her navel, sinking into soft, heavenly places with just his hands and his mouth, the shadowy coils inside of him aching to burst free and curl around her. Wrap her up safe.

That had never been the instinct before.

“Oh, Stray. Oh, God,” Cara moaned like someone who had never experienced that instinct, either.

First, he’d cherish. Protect. Adore.

And then... Well, he was a reformed demon.

But he wasn’t a saint.

His lips fused to her skin in sucking ovals, leaving raspberry-colored bites across her belly and breasts while he lowered himself on top of her. Cara moved her legs apart easily, like she believed that some kisses were all she needed before being taken for a ride that would hopefully leave her in a trembling puddle. “Excuse me a couple of minutes, darling,” he whispered.

“Where are you going?” she half-sat up.

He scooted down between her legs. “To get a drink.”

His tongue danced and dipped over her folds, instantly intoxicated. Red wine, honey, and slippery sex, so perfect in their blend of dark curls, porcelain skin, and coral lips. “My good girl. My delicious girl.”

“Oh. Ohhh, oh, God!” Cara’s voice skipped and leapt up an octave of surprise as he buried his face into her pussy, sucking hard on each little fold, tongue lapping at her center. His shadowy form seemed to hover against his chest, helping, parting her for his easy access. He could tell she felt it, the long shadowy masses probing inside and returning to his tongue, delivering her wetness to him while his fingers massaged her rapidly stiffening clit.

“How are you doing that?” Cara whimpered when his shadows stayed inside of her while his lips hugged her clit into his mouth.

“An old trick I learned,” he whispered, tongue flicking her bead before sucking on it. “Do you like it?”

“I don’t... understand it.”

“Do you need to understand it to know it feels good?” he asked, hoping the answer was no.

“I don’t think it matters,” she whimpered, hips bucking towards his tongue.

“Good girl. Trusts me.”