Page 75 of Demon Food

You. YOU touching me would make me feel better. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Prince.”

“Who says I’m concerned—?” He gasped. Then it transformed into a chuckle when I pressed the blade tighter against his throat.

“Like I said, just lie there.”

He inhaled a drag of smoke, a smile curling his lips as he said, “That’s right. So that you may concentrate.”

I licked my fingers.

“Concentrate on whatever it is you’re thinking about,” he said, gaze dropping to my hand.

“Yes.”

“Which is…?”

Oh, I should not answer that with honesty. I probably shouldn’t answer at all.

But he must’ve taken my silence as some personal confirmation, because his twisted smile only grew. “Snow Fox. Are you thinking about me as you stroke your cock?”

The way he said cock—fixed and fervid; lingering on the k—had to have been on purpose. Like he was trying to make my heart race.

I didn’t back down, still stroking as I said, “So what if I am?”

His eyes sparkled, lit up, and I knew it was treacherous territory I was slipping into, but it was also delectable. I held his gaze as I spat onto my fingers.

“You’re a sex demon, Alek,” I said, gripping myself again. “What else are you good for? If not to look pretty for me as I stroke my cock.”

He bared his brilliant teeth. Then he wormed an inch closer and asked, “Do tell me how you think I’m pretty.”

“Do tell me how you don’t care about this blade on your neck.”

He grinned, like he didn’t give one fuck about this blade on his neck as he repeated, “You think I’m pretty, Feloré.”

“I don’t know what to think about you, Alek.”

“Can I tell you what I think about you?” he asked, and I could almost swear he’d managed to wriggle closer somehow. “I think you’re special.”

Danger. Danger, danger, danger. It was ringing throughout my body.

“There is something so fearless about you, Snow Fox. Something unbearably sweet.”

“I’m not sweet,” I said. “I don’t know why you think that.”

“Oh, but you are.” Blade be damned, he was crowding into me, and I was letting him. “You’re so fucking sweet that it hurts.”

I should be running. Something was telling me that I should be somewhere else, anywhere but this bed.

So, then why wasn’t I? Why was I still here under these soft sheets with him, with a part of me yearning to hear what he had to say? Tell me how I’m sweet. Tell me how I’m special. Wrap your ghost hands around my neck and tell me.

“I know I cannot touch you, Feloré,” he whispered. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t offer my assistance.”

My spine arched a little as I stroked. “What kind of assistance?”

“I can tell you what I would do to you,” he said. “If this were some other lifetime and I were some other demon.”

I swallowed the water pooling in my mouth. My mind knew better, but my body was screaming yes. YES. “That’s a bad idea.”

He chuckled. He was so much closer than when we started, close enough that his scent of ashes and earth blitzed my senses as he glanced down at my working hand. “And what of this, my love? A good idea?”