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The demon chuckles—actually chuckles—and my chest tightens at the sound. God, she’s so gorgeous. Even with that malicious snarl on her face, she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. But no longer do I want to bury myself between her thighs and make her mine. I want her to make mehers.For my soul, of course. And maybe I’ll even get to enjoy the experience a little. My eyes drink her all in again, and I home in on her horns. Damn, they look grabbable.
“You say that now,” she says with a snort. “But fine. I’ll help you through a system of techniques I know.”
My mouth widens into a broad smile. “Really? What’s the system?”
“Beating the bad out of you, of course,” she says flatly. I open my mouth to say something, but she shakes her head. “Andwe’re not doing it here. I can’t have you throwing up all over my apartment again. I can magic away the mess but not the smell. And I want something in return for this, Byron Waits.”
My entire body tenses. “Okay… what do you want?”
Bargaining with a demon sounds like an incredibly bad idea, but what choice do I have? I’m already pushing my luck far enough as it is.
“I want you to help me get the souls I need before the end of tomorrow.”
Before I can say anything, she raises her hand in the air and snaps her finger. The cavern walls around us drip away, like someone tossed alcohol onto a painting. We’re suddenly plunged back into dark nothingness, and I whirl around, trying to make out even just a tendril of light. Anything to help me center myself.
“Relax, please. I don’t want you vomiting on my shoes. They’re Jimmy Choos,” she hisses.
“You have expensive taste,” I say, mildly impressed. If she likes Jimmy Choos, I could provide her with as many pairs as she’d like. I’m not even sure why I’m entertaining that thought, considering she’s about to beat the shit out of me. Plus, I’ve never bought a woman anything other than dinner before.
A burst of light explodes around us, so harsh I have to raise my arms to block it out. My head throbs for half a second until Faith places her hand on my wrist and guides my arms back down. “We’re here,” she murmurs.
When my eyes refocus to the light, I notice we’re… right back in her candy shop? Squinting, I stare at the case of baked goods. Muffins and cupcakes are piled high on top of one another, and bowls of candy sit on top of the countertop, undisturbed. Colorful advertisements depicting vintage drawings decorate the walls, and glass jars filled with candies line the shelves.
“Why?” is the only word I can utter.
She shrugs. “Because I don’t have time or energy to conjure an entirely new venue, Byron. Time is of the essence here. What? You don’t like it? Not fun enough for you?”
Fun? This demon has a sick sense of humor, which only makes my balls tighten. Fuck, this chick is hot. She pulls a chair out from behind the bakery case and points at it with a perfectly manicured claw. Her tail writhes behind her, and I have a sudden desire to know what it would feel like to have it wrapped around my throat.
“Strip. Then sit,” she commands.
Without hesitation, I unbutton my Oxford shirt and toss it onto the floor. I don’t miss the small hitch in her throat when her hungry gaze roves over my flat stomach. All the hours spent in the gym honing my body and pushing it past its limits have made me somewhat vain. Okay, alotvain. I know I look good, but when Faith looks at me like I’m something to be devoured, a swell of pride rises in my chest. I’m happy she likes looking at me. Next, I unbutton my pants and roll them over my hip bones. Another happy sound tears through her throat, followed by an indignant huff. She’s trying not to show her pleasure, but I know a happy woman when I hear one.
“Like what you see?” I can’t help but ask. It’s the wrong thing to say, because her tail snaps forward and streaks across my chest. It stings, and I expect to see a smear of red where her tail was. But instead, there’s nothing there. No marks. No cut. Wincing, I bow my head. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly.
“You don’t speak unless I tell you to. You don’t do anything unless I tell you to,” she snaps.
I nod. “I understand, mistress.”
“And don’t call me that, either. Call me Faith. And only Faith. My name on your lips is the only thing I want to hear. Got it?”
When I finally look up to meet her gaze, I notice a flicker of something in those big, beautiful purple eyes of hers. Nothate. Not exactly. But something else. A promise of my soul’s salvation.
6
FAITH
This human has been surprising so far, but I’m sure that’s about to end once I start flogging him. They always end up screaming and crying for their mothers once the real pain begins, and Byron will be no different. Even if he lowers his gaze to the floor and calls me mistress, it won’t change the fact that he’s going to fall apart and crumble like the Roman Empire the second he tastes the lash.
He bore my tail well, though. There’s no denying that. I’d love to curl it around his throat, squeeze, and watch the light leave his eyes. But that’s for later. Much later. I want to savor this. Byron, now fully naked and surprisingly erect, stands before me with his hands behind his back. Staring down at his cock, I’m kind of impressed that despite the big game he talks, he can actually back some of it up with his dick.
Huh. Bigger than I’m used to, in fact. Another demon would probably want to squash his cock beneath her heel or poke it with iron nails fresh from the forge. But all I want to do is suck it, tease it, lap up the precious beads of precum that spill from his pinkish head. I slap my cheek, freeing myself of the wayward thought, and watch with some satisfaction as he sits obediently on the chair.
“Good. You can listen,” I say, rolling my eyes, but deep down I want to run my fingers through his thick, soft-looking hair. It’s crap like that, though, that’s kept me a lesser demon for these past hundred or so centuries. Time in Hell has little meaning when you’re immortal, but it feels like I’ve been stuck in my current position forever. Because in the end, despite my best intentions, I’m always too damn nice to these idiots. I wind up taking it easy on them and letting their souls pass from this realm into the next with relative ease and not in the painful torment they’re supposed to leave the world in.
Some of his brown hair falls over his face, making his strong, masculine features appear suddenly so boyish. My heart clenches for half a second, and before I can think better of it, I blurt out, “Your safe word. What is it?”
Wait. Why did I just say that? I’m a literal demon from Hell, destined to become a powerful succubus with a penthouse on the Lake of Fire. I don’t let my victims pick safe words because there is no safety here. Yet, when I look upon his face, the way his bottom lip trembles with reverence and the way his eyes look at me as though I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen… I can’t help but want to protect him. Hold him. This mortal is dangerous.
