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“Not tonight,” she said, ignoring the odd mixture of nervous anxiety and curious elation his words elicited. “I count beads on a bracelet Lisette gave me long ago. Something called the Standard Method that she’d followed in the pre-war years for family planning.”
“Lisette has children?”
“No. Turns out her husband was infertile.” Her lids opened and she eyed him as she asked, “Do you have children?”
“No.” He gave her a contemplative look. “Perhaps someday.”
“Of course. What’s the rush? You have all the time in the world.”
“Time actually could be an issue for me,” he said, suddenly cryptic.
He moved from the bed, leaving her with a gnawing feeling that piqued her interest. But she didn’t question him further. In fact, all coherent thought fled as she watched him remove his clothes.
Another moan bubbled up and lodged in her throat as she marveled over his muscular build and sheer perfection. No human she’d ever seen—in real life or in books—compared to the beauty of the Demon King. Every inch of him from head to toe thrilled her, particularly his thick shaft, which stood erect.
Jade’s stomach flipped.
“Crawl under the covers,” Davian instructed. “I don’t want you getting cold.”
“I’m burning up,” she told him. “Tonight, I have officially come to understand the term hot and bothered.”
She’d already tasted his skin, had felt his cock against her tongue when she’d taken him in her mouth while in the shower. And though she’d derived an exorbitant amount of pleasure from the sexual act she’d performed, she knew—from their dream, and from the way Davian touched her in reality—that making love with him would far exceed the bliss she’d already experienced.
Despite her internal temperature rising once more, she pulled back the bronze duvet and the ecru-colored sateen sheets. He settled next to her, lying on his side to face her. Jade’s hands roamed his chest and abs.
“Also for the record,” he said, “demons don’t carry venereal diseases.”
“Good to know. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Not exactly sexy conversation, hmm?” he mused as his lips brushed her forehead.
“Something tells me that’s about to change.”
He grinned. “I’m done with the formalities.”
“Then shut up and kiss me.”
“Gladly.” His mouth sealed with hers and his tongue plunged past her parted lips.
How she loved his aggressiveness. He easily possessed her with his skill and his own desire, but she also felt an underlying current of need that arced between them, stirring her senses.
He needed her.
Dragging her mouth from his, she asked, “Tell me what you want from me.”
He gazed forlornly at her. “What if I said everything?”
“You can’t have everything. We both know that.”
He shifted and she moved with him, so she was on her back, with him hovering over her as he propped himself on a forearm and stared down at her. His hand skimmed her body, caressing her breast, then resting in the dip of her waist.
“You enthrall me,” he told her. “And you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. In over two hundred years, to be exact. You make me see things differently.”
“Such as?”
A slight shake of his head made her think he wouldn’t answer her question. But then his lips grazed hers and he admitted, “That I’m not nearly as powerful as I’d always thought. Not when I’m with you.”
“I don’t understand.”
