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The house has everything: a huge state-of-the-art kitchen, indoor and outdoor pools, a games room, a spa with a sauna, jacuzzi, and steam room, a music room, and a cinema. The shaded garden is beautiful, with black flowers blooming in the shadows. But my favorite room is the expansive library, which is lined with books, some so old that I recognize the language.
It seems a lot of house for one demon, and I've glimpsed a spark of sadness in his eyes when we dine together. He's… lonely.
But Mammon has been true to his word—he hasn't behaved inappropriately or touched me again since that kiss. The only demands he's made are for my time and for me to keep an open mind while we get to know one another. Oh, and sleeping in his bed despite the copious number of guest bedrooms. It's the one thing he won't bend on.
You are my wife now and will sleep beside me every night.
That first night was… awkward. My husband was a demon, after all, so why would he keep his promise to wait? I climbed into bed in pajamas that covered me from throat to ankle as he settled his formidable weight beside me. I eventually fell asleep perched on the edge of the mattress, as far from him as was possible in the enormous bed. So waking the next morning to find myself smooshed against his side, my head on his wide chest and my leg thrown over his, was unsettling, to say the least.
Every night since has been a repeat. I fall asleep teetering on the mattress's edge, only to wake plastered against my husband. It's as if I'm drawn to him during the night, craving the heat and strength of his body.
By the end of the first week, I gave up and snuggled into him as soon as the mattress dipped with his weight and fell instantly asleep. I woke the next morning with Mammon curled around me, my back to his front, his hand cupping my breast, and what felt like a tree trunk poking my ass. Yeah, that gave a whole new definition to morning wood.
But Mammon hasn't forced himself on me, even though he could have. It's… confusing. How can a demon have a higher moral compass than my father, the man who was supposed to protect me?
"Penelope."
I startle at my name, coming back to the present. I give Mammon a wry smile across the dining table where we're eating another delicious dinner. "Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts."
I take a deep sip of the wine in my glass, one of the most delicious things I've ever tasted.
"We'll be moving tomorrow," he says, not meeting my gaze.
Something in his tone makes dread pool in my stomach. Unease causes my pulse to spike, but I've grown a backbone, a spine of steel, in the last two weeks. It's incredible how mentally strong you become when everything you know and believe is ripped away from you.
Lifting my eyes to his, I ask, “Moving to where?”
“I have to get back to work, Penelope. Lucifer allowed me these two weeks as a honeymoon, but he has called me back. We’ll be returning to The Below tomorrow.” Mammon's deep voice sends shivers down my spine.
We haven't discussed what will happen to me when he goes back to work. “Can’t I stay here?”
“No, it’s not safe,” Mammon says firmly.
"And what do you expect me to do while you're busy… working?" I ask testily.
"You can do anything you want, Penelope. My home in The Below is a replica of this house with every comfort you could wish for."
I grit my teeth. "My father kept me in a gilded cage, Mammon, always telling me that everything he did was to keep me safe when he was actually ensuring I remained pure for you, a demon."
A demon you've started having dreams and fantasies about.
I push the thought aside. “I don't know what adult humans do for entertainment. The only time I was allowed out was to attend the purity balls. I've never been to the cinema to watch a movie, never visited a museum or the theater. I wanted to go to the circus to see the clowns and the acrobats and the zoo to see the animals when I was a child. I wanted to eat popcorn and candy floss and ice cream. I've been "kept safe" my whole life," I say, making air quotes. I lift my eyes to Mammon's, lifting my chin. "Please don't transfer me from one cage to another."
My eyes fill with tears, and I drop them to my hands resting on the table. The purity ring my father placed on my finger is now gone, replaced by Mammon's ruby and gold wedding ring.
“I’m done eating,” I say, breaking the silence that's fallen over us.
A wraith emerges from the dark corners of the room and takes my plate away. Yeah, that took a little getting used to—having a staff of wraiths and phantoms.
Mammon reaches across the table to wrap his large hand around mine. His dark hair curls around his face in a way that should've been slightly feminine, but only makes him more appealing. “Your father kept you a prisoner for his own agenda. It is not my wish to clip your wings, little one. I may be a demon, but my motives are simply to protect you from harm. The Below is a dangerous place, but no one will touch you so long as I keep Lucifer happy and supplied with the souls he desires." He pauses, placing a taloned finger beneath my chin and lifting my gaze to his. "I give you my word that on our next visit to The Above, I will take you anywhere you wish: the theater, art museums, the zoo"—his mouth twitches—"even the circus. We can eat candy floss and ice cream and ride the Ferris wheel until you're dizzy."
I search his crimson eyes and see the truth of his words. He promised to always be honest on our wedding night, and he's given me no reason to doubt that promise.
My breath catches as he smooths his thumb over the back of my hand and links our fingers. My eyes flicker to his full lips, and I imagine what it would be like to kiss him again. I've told myself that my attraction is him using his Jedi mind tricks, but my gut tells me he wouldn't, that he's kept his word about that like he has about not pressuring me into an intimate relationship. Perhaps my reaction to him is my desperate need to feel wanted after my father’s betrayal. Or maybe—shock, horror—it's because I'm craving sex. With Mammon.
I have that itch again, but this time, it's stronger than ever. The longer I'm around him, the more I like him, even if he does grumble a lot about silly humans and their fragility. But I can't deny our connection or the bond growing between us.
My eyes meet his, seeing the desire hidden behind his smile. Desire for me. I swallow hard. I know he wants to have sex with me. Am I ready to have sex with him? Am I ready to take that next step with my demon husband?
