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Warm hands brushed over my stomach as Asmodeus appeared behind me. His chin rested on my shoulder as he stared at me washing my face. “What is a divorce?”
“Huh?” I pressed the little button to turn off my electronic scrubber before I turned on the sink and splashed water over my face. “What are you going on about?”
“Your friends said people who tire of their husbands get a divorce.”
I rolled my eyes, turning to rest my hip on the counter. “Olivia?”
“Yes.” His face looked sombre. “There will be no divorce.”
“You don’t even know what a divorce is.” I laughed.
“But I don’t like it.”
“How do you know?” There wouldn’t be a divorce. Something about our connection felt like it was carved into our very souls but I couldn’t help pushing him a little. He looked absolutely adorable with that little crease between his brow and his lips turned down at the edges.
His frown deepened. “Because of all the laughing.”
My lips turned into my teeth as I tried my best to hold in a laugh of my own. “You know you won’t like it because everyone was laughing?”
“Yes. When all of your friends laugh like that it becomes obvious to me they are up to something treacherous.”
“Boy, stop. You don’t know them enough to know all that.” I shook my head at him as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I do too. I had to work with them and deal with the constant bickering and questions when you were taken. Alicia is the only one with any sense.” He wrapped his hands around my back and pulled me closer.
“Oh? And that has nothing to do with the fact that she doesn’t say much.”
Asmodeus grunted. “I like the silence.”
“Rude.”
“Do you know what is rude? I got hit with a shoe.”
“Abuela?” The thought of Abuela chasing Asmodeus around with her slipper was enough to push me over the edge. I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. “Did she get you?” I asked between chuckles.
“Yes. Her aim is very accurate.”
I snorted.
“It’s not funny.” His hands wrapped behind my thighs and he lifted me. My legs wrapped around his waist as he carried me from the bathroom and into my bedroom.
My eyes closed as he pressed his face into the side of my throat and heated my flesh with his breath. His tongue felt too hot as it wrapped around the side of my neck, the familiar pierce of his teeth breaking my skin before he hummed low, satisfied. My back arched as I rolled my body into him, something in the centre of my chest needing to be as close to him as possible. I felt overcome by something I still didn’t fully understand.
“The taste of you will damn me,” he mumbled against my skin.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve damned me already,” I moaned.
“Because I’m a demon?”
“Because you’re mine.” And even after almost two weeks — turns out it was actually Thursday — I wasn’t sure if I could ever go back to a life without the demon husband I didn’t want.
He laid me down gently before he covered me with his body. I tightened my hold on him, the desperation in me almost unbearable. “I’ll never get used to this,” I whispered, unsure whether or not I wanted to make this confession.
“What?” He planted his hand beside my face and looked down at me, my blood smeared over his lips.
I forced my eyes to remain open even as my hips rolled, searching for him. “It’s like I’m holding my breath when you’re not touching me and my body is just waiting for the chance to take a full breath. I have never been this needy in my whole life.”
His lips suctioned against the side of my neck and I felt like he had a string wrapped around my soul and with each suck, he teased at it.
