Page 7 of When I Accidentally Summoned a Demon

I haul the heavy, sloshing bucket back into the bathroom.

Valefar is still rocking on the shower floor, his wet, dark hair clinging to his sculpted cheeks. He’s making low, miserable growls punctuated by small, pathetic whimpers.

“Brace yourself, big guy,” I warn.

I hoist the bucket and dump the sheer, freezing mass of ice and water over his head and shoulders.

He gasps sharply, but then his shoulders slowly drop. The violent tremors ease but don’t fade, and his breathing smooths into deeper, steadier pulls of air.

“Thank you,” he rumbles, peering up at me through long, wet lashes.

I nod, setting down the bucket. “You’re welcome.”

But then, I realize the ice bath hasn’t solved the main issue. His erection is still raging, proudly demanding attention beneath the soaked leather.

I heave a sigh. This night is just utterly derailed. I start to turn away, but I don’t even make it a full step before his tail snaps out like lightning, sealing around my ankle and dragging me back.

“I am sorry.” His voice is a gravelly plea. “I cannot stop it.”

I look down at him, battling the instinct to pry his tail off. Instead, a reckless, wild thrill surges through my blood. Welp, I think, my core clenching with anticipation. Embrace the suck.

Though, truthfully, I’m thinking of a completely different type of suck.

I plant my hands on my hips, staring down at this powerful creature kneeling before me. “Okay, just FYI: I never do this. So please don’t be a dick.”

He looks up at me, his scaled brow furrowing in confusion. I chew on my inner cheek, my heart hammering against my ribs. Then, I unfasten the towel and let the cotton pool onto the bathroom floor behind me.

Valefar’s eyes flare so wide, they nearly pop out of his skull. The ring of fire in his irises flares, raw hunger stripping away his previous misery.

I part my lips in a slow, knowing smile as his ravenous gaze roams over my body, drinking in the curve of my hips, the swell of my breasts, the flush of my skin. His attention flicks between my tattoos as if intrigued.

“Well,” I start, my voice a smoky rasp. “What do you thi⁠—”

In the fraction of a second, Valefar surges upward. His massive body presses against mine, caging me against the shower glass.

I hiss, the heat of his skin shocking against my flesh. Almost instantly, his internal furnace kicks into overdrive where our bodies meet.

“Well,” I laugh softly, my breath catching as his heavy, wet chest rubs against my swollen nipples. “Never had a guy pounce on me quite like that before.”

He is rigid with tension, muscles locked as he battles his own monstrous instincts. He lowers his head until his forehead rests against mine, his breath fanning hot across my lips.

“You feel so good,” he wheezes, a tortured rasp. “It is so much…and not enough. I should leave the room. The pain of the tether would be a blessing compared to this.”

I trace my fingers over the slick, wet slabs of his chest muscles, marveling at the immense power coiled just beneath his skin. My hands trail lower, sweeping over the deep V of his Adonis belt. I marvel at his bronze perfection, the demonic beauty of his horns, the lethal grace of his tail.

He is a monster. A predator. And yet, I am the one holding all the cards. I’ve never been with a man who lost this much control while simultaneously handing me all the power. I can sense how weak he feels right now, because of my proximity—whatever this sudden, inexplicable bond he has to my body. For a creature forged in dominance, this must be an insane torture.

The power trip gives me a dizzying sense of supremacy, but I’m not cruel. I don’t like torture, unless the person really, truly deserves it. Which is laughable, considering he’s a demon.

But after my crazy life, I consider myself a good judge of character. If a demon can have character, Valefar would qualify.

So, when he brings his large, clawed hands up, hovering them mere inches from my face without making contact, I gaze up at his chaotic, fiery gaze.

“I am a demon,” he says, a heavy confession. “I am not good, Beastie. I touched your things but only for a few seconds and with...my tail.”

I ignore the wet strands of his hair sticking to my cheeks, nearly shattering my focus. Slowly, I reach up and take his hands and press his hard, calloused palms against my face, noting the muscles ticking rapidly along his sharp jawline.

“So, what you’re saying is…you’re a thief, but you’re an honest one?”