Page 55 of A Summoned Husband


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A thought made me sit up. “Can you heal anyone or just me because I’m your wife?”

Asmodeus had turned into the man I was getting used to. He was once again the kind of guy that would have me looking twice if I ran into him somewhere. Tall, with that deep brown skin and that mischievous smile. He took a seat on the couch across from me with the coffee table between us.

“I am old enough my healing abilities can be used as I see fit.”

“So…” I needed him to spell everything out for me. I wasn’t dumb, but I wasn’t going to misunderstand things because I hadn’t clarified.

“I can heal anyone I please.” He grinned at me as he spoke.

My nod was slow as I tried to file the questions bouncing around my head by importance. It was good to know that if the girls came breaking in here and got themselves into the same shit I was in, he could help them.

“What else can you do?” I was curious now. It wasn’t like I would get a chance to ask a different demon what kind of powers they had. It was like sitting with a superhero… one that would damn my very soul.

He just stared.

I waved my hand over at my bookshelf. “You know… demon stuff. What other demon stuff can you do?”

Asmodeus pursed his lips in thought. “What kind of human stuff can you do? I need to know so I can decide what is of note.”

“Nothing.” I threw my hands in the air. “We’re just… alive.”

He scoffed. “As are most things.”

I scratched a hand through my hair as I tried to think. What the hell did humans do? We put a lot of weight on having kids, but most animals did that so that wasn’t something to note. We woke up, conformed to society, worked our hours and went home. There really wasn’t much. We were greedy things that did what we needed to do to survive. There was nothing whip our hands out and magically fix a shelf about us.

His eyes searched me for a few moments before he sighed. “I can do as you’ve seen so far. I can heal myself and others or things if needed. I can transport myself where I feel I need to be. Most of my true talents are in pleasure.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “So what? You give good head?”

“I don’t gift heads, what would be the point? And if I did, how would I know if they were good or not? Who determines the worth of the heads?” He looked at me as though I just sprouted a third eye.

Having conversations with him was going to be tedious.

“No.” I rolled my eyes. “Humans would say something like that to talk about oral sex.” Memories of him standing naked in my bedroom returned as I started to wonder about demon’s equipment. The memory I had couldn’t be right. Thick. Ridged with a bulbous head and… I swallowed hard at the memory, my eyes whipping away from him. Heat moved over my neck and chest as I rubbed nervously at my forehead.

“Ah… that is an emotion I understand well.” He grinned.

The look on his face made me stiffen and sit up in my chair. “What?”

“Lust.”

My head shook so quickly, my hair whipped back and forth over my face. “Woah, no! You are way off. Lust? For you?” My voice was entirely too high to sell my point. He was a demon. A demon! And I was married to him against my will. If demons were bound by human laws that would be illegal. I wasn’t feeling lust. No. I was… I was…

“You find me attractive,” he stated. “I can practically smell it in the air. Do you not have a mortal in your life to satisfy you, wife?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Why not? You’re my wife whether you like it or not.” He inhaled deeply and his eyes fluttered. When they opened, his dark eyes shone with a fire lit within them. It should have terrified me but that feeling in the pit of my stomach returned. Like a hot stone sat balanced on a knot.

I swallowed hard. “Only according to your demon book.”

“That book was not demonic. We’ve determined the book belongs to a witch, the very witch who was in your mind.” He adjusted himself on my couch, sinking lower as he kept his eyes honed on me. “Not that it matters. I suspect this bond is more than witch or demon or human. This marriage is one of souls.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I had to get a different question.

All of this started with that damned book. Against my will. Against his too, it seemed. When he poofed his ass into my kitchen the morning after he seemed as angry as I was scared. Not like someone who wanted to be married. Not someone who wanted a marriage of the soul or otherwise — not that I had the slightest clue what that could mean.

There had to be a way to undo it.

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