6. ISAAC

Chapter six

ISAAC

W hile the days passed in a mundane blur, each night I'd dreamt about Ash and his mouth and that robe he wore. That bloody robe . I'd seen him fully naked, but something about that silky fabric clinging to his body, showing only an outline of what lay underneath, was infinitely more erotic. I was like a Victorian gentleman being flashed an ankle. It was pathetic, and probably some sort of sign that I was woefully determined to ignore.

We hadn't talked about that morning—I got major second-hand embarrassment even thinking about it. After standing with my head against the bedroom door for a solid ten minutes, beating myself up, I'd had a perfunctory wank before getting on with my day. I had busied myself at work until the only energy left in my tank when I came home was for eating and going to bed.

Wash, rinse, repeat .

It wasn't that I'd actively tried to avoid talking about it. I was just exhausted and preoccupied, and yeah, okay, maybe a little reluctant to bring it up, but only because I didn't know what to say. Instead of making even more of a tit of myself, it was easier to keep my head down and focus every ounce of my attention on the shop.

Forgetting it had ever happened wasn't an option, unfortunately. The plethora of visions and phantom sensations that plagued me every night made that impossible. Thankfully, those could be brushed aside while going through the motions and preparing myself for the crowds to flood through the doors.

Except that was delusional, and preparing for nothing only took an hour, so thinking about Ash often happened sooner than I liked.

Today, I'd turned to making bows in a last-ditch effort to stave off my daydreaming. I already had a pile pre-made in the back, but it was my go-to whenever my hands needed to be kept busy. It was a mindless task, using my thumb to glide the edge of the scissors over the tails of the ribbon until it sprang into a curl. It was oddly fun, and briefly distracted me from the fact that the shop was barren.

However, the green strip I'd subconsciously chosen reminded me of a certain belt on a certain dressing gown that I wanted to ignore, and that was how I found myself once again imagining my demon roommate on his knees.

The next ribbon curl was accompanied by a frustrated sigh .

I couldn't believe I'd fucking bailed. If Ash hadn't thought me a proper bellend before, he did now. Maybe that was why he hadn't tried again. He'd realised that all my baggage wasn't worth the aggravation, and had given up. The fact that he still acted like his regular ole inappropriate self didn't really contradict that theory. It was just how he was, I'd decided—foul-mouthed and sassy—so I had no way of knowing if the recent dip in persuasion was because he'd rescinded his offer or if he was giving me a break.

Either way, I was glad of the chance to process.

My entire life, every step of the way, people had doubted me. It made me hell-bent on proving them wrong, turned me into someone who refused to ask for help or rely on anyone. I was stubborn. A control freak. It felt like failure to need someone else, like it didn't count whenever the credit was shared, and for some reason, part of me thought that giving in to Ash's terms meant giving up. Admitting to the world that I wasn't good enough to fix this on my own.

But that was ridiculous.

If anything, by accepting what was offered, the problem was still being solved by me. I'd be making the conscious decision to take the path that headed straight for success. All I needed was to reach out and meet someone halfway.

It was just hard to let go.

Glancing around the shop, my chest tightened at how quiet and empty it was—a far cry from what I had envisioned when the place first opened. It hadn't always been that way. Customers used to queue out the door, bringing in a decent and steady income, but like all good things, popularity had a sell-by date. More and more businesses had opened up in town, exciting new novelties that the folks' interests shifted to instead. There were now supermarkets with cheaper options—and maybe better ones, in some cases—alongside an increasing trend towards DIY.

The decline in revenue had been a gradual but noticeable one. People wanted to be wowed, to feel like what they were getting was unique and worth the investment, but the less they came, the less money I had to spare on inventory to convince them.

A vicious cycle.

I still had my regulars—their loyalty truly was touching—but even the odd wedding and funeral was barely enough to cover the bills, never mind profit and stock. I relied solely on my fast-dwindling savings, plus the cutting out of absolutely anything that leaned closer to a luxury than a necessity. It was no way to live, but the alternative was conceding to all those voices that had told me I couldn't do it.

Fuck that noise.

The most depressing part? Looking at the walls and floors, all they needed was a fresh lick of paint and maybe a new carpet. Simple adjustments that could return it to its former glory—and closer to what I'd wished the place would be—but I was too skint for any of it .

There was so much room for improvement, and none of it would have cost a fortune, but still more than I had. There could be a better layout that felt more welcoming, extra fairy lights above the door, trinkets and gifts that were actually on trend. Even just a bloody updated theme for the window display.

I wasn't exactly envisioning paradise!

Timed to a fucking tee, one of the teardrop lights hanging above that very same display flickered and popped. It set off a chain reaction, the rest of the bulbs in the circuit blowing, plunging that entire corner of the shop into darkness. I stared, unmoving for a moment, before a bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat and I dropped to my elbows on the counter.

My eyes stung, but unless my tears had turned to gold since the last time I'd cried, I refused to let them fall. It would make no difference. I couldn't afford repairs or upgrades or renovations, and sitting there blubbering wouldn't undo that. It was just frustrating beyond belief to know that I'd poured all I had into my dream, and if everything kept crumbling at this rate, it would all be for nothing.

Something desperately needed to change.

And I had a feeling it was going to have to be me .

I closed the shop an hour early, a habit I had picked up for days when customers were extra scarce. I hadn't seen anyone since an older woman at lunchtime who'd wanted a dozen peony roses for her mother's birthday—her favourites, apparently. But they were no longer in season, so she'd left disappointed with a potted orchid under her arm instead.

It was a sale, at least.

After the last few months of a similar routine, I'd reached the conclusion that there was no use hanging around for a miracle or throwing money I didn't have at the electric man. There was only so much I could busy myself with when there were no orders to be filled, so leaving made sense. A note was always pinned to the door with my number should anyone turn up—I was only upstairs, after all—but they never did. At what point could it be considered a waste of paper?

With a sigh, I trudged up to my flat, hanging up my hoodie once inside. Ash was in his usual spot, lounging on the sofa, wearing that damned robe again. It was a little backward how a slip of fabric warranted more of my concern than any of his demon attributes but, in truth, those were easier to get used to. Or ignore. The robe, however, had my heart racing no matter how often he wore it.

Maybe it was cursed?

Ash had a different book in his lap from yesterday, one I didn't recognise by the cover alone. How to Kill the Taxman and Get Away with It , the title read. Yeah, circumstances considered, it definitely wasn't one of mine .

"Where are you pulling these books from?" I asked, coming to stand at the end of the couch, hands planted on my hips. "That wasn't on my shelf."

"No, it was hidden under your bed with your unopened sex toys and a demon-summoning how to."

I glared, but the blush spreading high on my cheeks no doubt ruined its heat. " Toy , singular." I crossed my arms over my chest to seem intimidating. "And stop taking the piss."

"Then stop asking ridiculous questions." Finally, he peered up at me, but one pass over my stance had his eyebrow rising. I deflated, and his focus returned to the page. "You are back early, my dear."

Huffing, I threw myself onto the empty side of the sofa, sagging into the cushions. "Well observed."

I caught his small, amused smirk. "Bad day?"

"Nothing new." I waved that off, breezing past the topic. "Do you even like reading? Or have you just got nothing better to do?"

"I could murder your neighbour." His tone didn't change, his response so easy it was as if he'd suggested a game of cards. "He is very inconsiderate. Mowing his pathetic lawn in the wee hours of the morning."

I stared at him in disbelief, but he wasn't in the least bit arsed. "Ten o'clock isn't the wee hours ! And no, you can't kill Kevin. He's nice."

He was also Moxie's owner, the sweet little cat that hung around here. At least, I suspected he was. Her name was written on her collar, so I'd just assumed her address since she typically came sauntering over from that general direction. Regardless, it would break my heart to see her separated from him. Not that I was even dignifying Ash's lunacy with a second thought.

Just saying.

"Then, no," he said with a condescending half smile, "I do not have anything better to do than read. At present."

I chewed the skin from my lip, a nasty habit I'd developed as a way to keep quiet. He'd warned me not to ask stupid questions, but there was something I had to clear up. "You didn't steal that book, did you? Because I know the librarian, and she would have my guts for garters if she—"

Ash scoffed in offence. "What do you take me for?"

"Er… a demon with zero morals, who just brought up killing my neighbour for the offence of cutting his grass?"

He shrugged. "Fair enough. Though no, I did not steal it. I haven't left your cosy little den since I got here." His gaze lifted before he tacked on a nonchalant, "You haven't permitted it."

"What?" I felt my face pale. "I have to allow you outside the flat?"

"I am tied to you, my dear," he said again, as if I'd somehow forgotten that part. "Even with your blessing, I cannot stray too far from you—or the place of my summoning—for long. But due to my immense power, I could venture out if and when you were not in need of me. Even if only to your neighbour's garden and back. "

"You need to tell me this shit! I don't know what I'm doing!" I lurched forward, gesturing wildly as I spoke. "What would've happened if I'd just said fuck this and skipped the country? I even went back to The Magic Shop without asking you to come with, and you didn't say anything."

Ash reacted to my frustration by closing his book, a finger slotted between the pages to keep his place. I had his attention, at least.

"As I've said, I have to be beside you or in the vicinity of the summoning circle. There would have only been adverse effects if you'd taken me to this magic shop and left me there before ‘skipping the country.' I'd have felt compelled to follow you, or withered out of existence had you ordered me to stay."

My jaw dropped in horror. "Fuck, okay." Why was summoning a demon such a fucking hassle? "Then, yes, you're absolutely free to leave whenever you want, just… please don't murder anyone. Or, you know, show my peers your demon form. If it can be helped."

He dipped his head in a mockery of a bow. "Message received."

"And, let me guess, it'll be wilfully ignored?"

"Yes."

I glowered at him, pointing an accusatory finger. "I mean it, behave yourself. I don't need any more reason for people to avoid my shop. "

He sniffed loftily and went back to reading. "I wouldn't dream of getting caught, pet, so you have nothing to worry about."

Huffing a laugh, I flopped into the cushions again, letting my eyes drift shut and my linked hands rest on my stomach. "Whatever you say."

Silence fell between us.

For all of three seconds.

"So…" I cracked one eye open. "I can control you?"

Ash stilled, and it made me regret asking. "You can control my physical presence, to a degree. You can send me to the edge of our bond's perimeters, and call me back whenever you are in need, but that is the extent of it."

I had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth, but I doubted he'd have been forthcoming if there was even a chance that I had more power over him. Not that it mattered, either way. His being here was an accident, and I had absolutely no interest in having a thrall. "I have no desire or intention of controlling you, Ash," I said, hoping to be reassuring. "Just to be clear."

"You can't," he said with an air of superiority. "Your chivalry is moot."

Well, that conversation was well and truly pied.

I blew out a slow breath, trying to relax, but for some reason, my insides felt twitchy, and I wasn't in the mood for silence. "Not planning a nighttime haunt, then? Now that you're a little freer. "

He sent me a sidelong glance. "Is that your idea of a hint?"

"No? But since you're no longer trapped here like you have been for the past week, are you not chomping at the bit to go out and stretch your legs?"

"I'm not a dog."

I frowned. "Never said you were."

He closed his eyes, breathed out, then faced me with a smile. "From now on, pet, let us assume I never do anything that I do not wish to be doing." His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. "If I haven't moved from this spot, it's because I am content. If I wish to go elsewhere, believe me, I will."

"Noted," I said, and began gnawing at my lip again. Ash clocked it, his eyes dropping there for a moment before flicking up, understanding in his expression.

He sighed through his nose and set his book on the coffee table.

"You are in a very chatty mood this evening—not a complaint," he added pointedly, cutting off my impending apology. "It makes a change from the good morning and good night that you've been subjecting me to of late."

I scrubbed a hand over my face. "Yeah, sorry about that. It wasn't intentional. I'm just tired and not used to company."

"I see. So, it has nothing to do with our fleeting tryst?"

Of course he'd see right through my bullshit excuse—which wasn't even entirely bullshit, just half bullshit. Still, I tried to keep up pretences. "Er, no?"

He gave me a look that said he didn't believe me .

No surprise there.

"Okay, fine. It was partly to do with our… with that ."

"Anything specific?"

"I was embarrassed, and I needed time to process," I admitted, honestly, staring at my hands and seeing no more point in lying. "I am sorry. Both for running off like that and avoiding you afterwards."

"Apologies are unnecessary," Ash said with a flippant hand gesture. "It was my intention to take you out of your comfort zone, maybe even test the limits of your boundaries—I am a demon, after all—but there was never a goal to make you feel uncomfortable."

"You didn't, I just…" I trailed off, my shoulders sagging on an exhale. Talking about shit on a personal level always had me wanting to clam up. It made me feel weak and helpless, but I'd come this far.

May as well lay the rest of my cards on the table.

"When I start to lose control, I get lost in my own head. I'm not used to accepting help—I feel like a failure for it. Plus, I've never done this before, and I don't…"

"You don't?"

I sighed. "I didn't want to be a disappointment."

Ash's eyes drilled into me like lasers. I prayed for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. "Pet—"

A self-deprecating laugh burst out of my throat before he could even attempt to console or pity me. "I mean, you barely put your mouth on my dick and I was on a hair's trigger. It's mortifying. Especially with someone as hot as you. It's a lot of pressure. And I know how stupid that sounds, I do, but I just… I have a lot going on."

"I know you are a virgin," he said, unbothered, making me feel, once again, too transparent. "I knew that before propositioning you."

I wanted to ask if it was really that obvious, but recalling my fumble was all the answer I needed. "And you don't mind?"

"On the contrary," he purred, draping himself over his corner of the couch, arms stretched out. "I do enjoy the occasional deflowering."

I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess, you get off on dirtying the innocent?"

"It is rather riveting." He dropped his voice even lower, its rich tone like honeyed silk. "Being the first to map out your skin with my fingers and tongue, to seize your sighs and moans. The way you'll look at me like I've given you the entire world on a silver plate. Yes, that'll be riveting indeed."

A bead of sweat gathered at my nape. "But you could have anyone else."

"Yes, and I want you ." He said the words with such certainty, his face showing no signs of mischief, that it derailed me a tad and made me wonder what I was even dithering for. But it was only brief. His natural smarm and flirtiness returned post-haste. "And since you are in need of my assistance, it would kill two birds, as they say. A mutual arrangement for mutual benefit. We both get what we want, and have fun in the process."

"But it feels like I get the better end of the deal." I shrugged. "Sex with you and help with my business."

"You sell yourself short, pet." He raked his gaze over the whole of me, leering. "I assure you, I am very, very content with the terms. I would have asked for a higher price for my services, otherwise. Your firstborn, perhaps."

I scoffed at the not-so-subtle nod to our first meeting, wondering if, in hindsight, that option would have been any easier.

"You also needn't worry yourself about my virtue," he added as if sensing my doubts. Not that his virtue , or lack thereof, was being disputed, but the matter of his free will was. "I'm quite capable of knowing what I want."

I'd admit, it was my second biggest hang-up. The guilt for not only trapping him here without prior knowledge of the true implications, but also having to use him for my benefit. Hearing how sure and eager he was did make me feel marginally less like a twat, though. I'd probably still feel ashamed for being the reason he couldn't leave until he actually could, but since the only solution to that was biting the bullet and getting the ball rolling, why not just do it?

It was a no-brainer, really. I'd know that I'd done everything to save my business, and he'd be free to go home sooner.

Win-win .

Before I could end my silence with either acceptance or rejection, Ash chimed in. "Do you not wish to be intimate with another? Is that why you stall?"

"Huh? Of course I do," I said, maybe a bit too defensively.

The demon shrugged, unperturbed. "I have a brother who does not care for the act, therefore, does not participate. He finds his pleasures elsewhere—in battle, for example. I wondered if you were of the same inclination."

"Oh." Understanding dawned on me. "No, I have the desire, it's just never been at the top of my agenda. I'm definitely not into battling anyone."

"We all have our hobbies." He smirked. "But I wouldn't wish to keep tempting you into something that you have no interest in being tempted into. Your body may be tuned in to the act, but if your mind is not, it would be a fruitless endeavour. I only persist as every time our eyes meet, it's as if you want to devour me… or be devoured." I felt my cheeks heat. Was that true? "I react to the energy I'm given, pet, but if you truly wish for me to desist, I shall. We can live in immaculate harmony; it would make no difference to me."

"That's…" I scoffed lightly. "Mighty moral of you."

"What can I say? I like my pets drooling for me." Now there was a visual, and probably not far off what I'd been doing with his lips wrapped around my cock. He smirked again. "Disinterest is, after all, very disinteresting."

"Well, my inexperience has nothing to do with me not wanting it, trust me." I huffed a short laugh. "Growing up in a really nosy household put me off trying with anyone when I was younger, and I saw no point in sneaking around—the town's way too tight-knit for that. Then, by the time college ended, I was so invested in floristry and opening the shop that months turned into years, and suddenly, I'm a twenty-eight-year-old virgin who's only dated"—using the term loosely—"a handful of people. It's just how it worked out."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Then…?"

It was a prompt, a final effort to know where I stood with him. With his advances. "I... I don't want you to stop," I heard myself admit, and though the somewhat impulsiveness of it startled me, it was the truth.

I'd given myself a chance to think. I'd looked at the evidence through defeated eyes and realised I had backed myself so far into a corner that I couldn't pretend everything would sort itself out anymore. No matter what I did or how hard I worked myself sick, my tenacity wasn't enough. I needed help. Pride, spite, and stubbornness had forced me to cling on, but for what? All it did was kill every last bit of hope I'd had, knock my confidence to the floor, and damage my life so irrevocably that I needed to make a deal with a literal demon to save it.

It was disheartening to learn I'd fallen so deep into a hole that only fairy tales and magic spells could drag me back to the surface, but as long as Wayne didn't find out, I was safe from the ‘I told you so.'

Probably .

"I want you, and I want your help," I said with more conviction, gazing up at him to show my sincerity. "I just… I don't know what I'm doing."

Ash studied me for a moment, his fierce eyes boring into my soul. It was unnerving, but also had my belly heating in ways it probably shouldn't have, which must have been his intention as his expression turned predatory.

He reached for a tumbler I hadn't noticed on the side table, two fingers of amber liquid in the bottom, and took a slow sip. "Well, luckily, I do."

"Lucky," I said intelligently, my mouth hanging agape as I stared at his Adam's apple bobbing on a swallow. How could he make something as simple as drinking look so… sexy? I didn't even like whisky, it just sat in the cabinet for whenever my dad decided to come over, but I craved it now.

I'd have downed the whole bottle if Ash had offered it to me.

"You look positively parched, my dear." He slid the forked tip of his dexterous tongue across his bottom lip, presumably to taunt me.

"You found my drinks cupboard, I see."

"Human spirits cannot get me drunk, but it does burn nicely in my throat." He offered me the glass. "Would you like a taste?"

He was a tenant inside my head, I was sure of it.

I nodded, but instead of handing over the drink like I'd expected, Ash took another sip, holding it in his mouth as he moved closer. With all the care of a lover's caress, he tilted my chin, used his thumb to pry my lips apart, then kissed me. My breath hitched, and my heart may have skipped a beat or two.

The whisky felt like acid on my tongue, searing a trail down my throat as I swallowed, but it was worth it to feel his soft lips, to hear him moan against me. It sent sparks from my ears straight down to my toes, freezing me in place.

It wasn't my first kiss, but it was by far the hottest.

Ash knotted his fingers in the long hair at my crown, keeping my head pinned at an angle as his tongue—the split tips that I remembered curling around my cock—flicked past my teeth in exploration. Whisky trickled from the corner of my mouth, and he paused long enough to catch it, not wasting a single drop of the sweet, smoky nectar, before diving back in with a pleased hum.

I may have held my breath for however long it lasted, unwilling to part even for air. The warmth, the closeness, the thrill, all of it was consuming me, making everything that wasn't us fade into the background. It was bliss, a peace settling in my head, in my bones , that I hadn't known for months. If this was how it felt to kiss him, what would it be like to have more?

I wanted to find out.

As if sensing it—and deciding to be the wilful arse that he was—Ash withdrew, reclining at the far end of the sofa again, leaving me panting and disgruntled. He sprawled out like a contented cat, undoing his robe with a calculated flick, and basked for my viewing pleasure, a smirk firm on his face. He knew he looked good, and normally I'd have rolled my eyes at his antics, but with a glance downward, I understood his arrogance.

Sulk forgotten, my eyes widened, mouth watering at the sight of forest-green lingerie against miles of gorgeously sleek, dark skin and lightly-toned muscle. A bralette covered his pecs, nipples pebbling under the lacy fabric, as if tempting me to bite them. The outline of his cock was visible through the knickers, not yet hard, but jerking with the attention.

Whereas my dick was perked high, my dropped jaw almost smacking the tip.

"I like that look on you." His voice was pitched low, smooth as honey. "All heart-eyes and tongue lolling on the floor. Very flattering."

Before I could defend myself, he spread his legs a little more and the robe slid off his thighs, revealing frilly green garters.

Fucking hell.

"Jesus Christ," I choked out on an unsteady breath, my eyes fixed on how those innocuous slips of fabric bunched around the supple skin that I wanted to bury my face in.

And mark with my teeth.

"Not quite, pet." He grinned, smug and shark-like. "But I can be your saviour, if you wish me to be."

I swallowed thickly, my hands tightening into fists in my lap with the uncertainty of what to do next. My gaze roved from the arch of his horns, to his neck, graceful and slender, all the way down to his toes, lingering on each detail and contour along the path before darting up again. I'd already seen him naked, but this felt different. Kinkier . I was in overdrive. So many fantasies were whirring through my head that it stalled me. I wanted to touch everything, to worship, to make him feel as good as he'd made me feel the other morning, but I didn't know how.

I didn't know if I could .

Perceptive as ever, Ash seemed to understand my hesitation, his smile softening at the edges. He didn't mock my inexperience, didn't show any impatience about my nerves or lack of confidence, he just slid a foot towards me, snaking it between my legs and pressing against the growing bulge in my pants. I moaned, eyes shuttering and hips shifting towards the pressure.

My thoughts scattered.

"Is this all for me?" he purred, gently stroking my clothed prick as I clenched my fists even tighter as an anchor to keep myself from doubling over. "Such a good little creature, aren't you? So polite and eager to please. You want me so badly, don't you, petal?"

I nodded dumbly, biting my lip to stifle the whine building in my throat.

I was no dog, but I sure as shit would bark if he asked.

Ash swept a hand over his body in a pointed gesture. "You can have me. In whatever way you'd like. Don't be shy. I'll give you anything you desire. "

I barely resisted the urge to pounce on him like a horny animal, but I managed, determined to do everything in my power not to put him off or make myself look like a complete novice as before. There was so much I wanted to do to him, so many places I ached to explore until he shivered and cried with pleasure, but it was difficult to choose what to do first.

Best to start slow.

"Can I—" I cleared my throat. "Can you kiss me again?"

His smug grin returned, and my skin tingled at the memory of how those lips had felt wrapped around my dick. "So precious."

Rising from his sprawl, he crawled towards me, eyes filled with lust and fangs bared in a devious grin. He paused at my knees, slowly extending a hand as if to pry them apart, but instead—with more strength than any being should have had in one arm—he grabbed my ankle and jerked me flat onto my back.

I sucked in a sharp breath as he straddled my lap, my hands finding his hips and flexing at the first touch of soft skin. It made me keen—a pathetic noise that shouldn't have left my throat, but couldn't be smothered. It was my first time exploring another person's body, and he was so silky smooth under my fingertips, and strong . No doubt he was strong enough to crush me between his thighs, and why in the ever-loving hell did that make my cock twitch?

I guessed I had found my type. Or my first kink .

My reaction amused Ash, like everything I did seemed to. But it clearly didn't turn him off as he leaned down to brush his lips over mine, teasing me, before giving me exactly what I'd asked for. He didn't bother with slow, not this time. He cupped my flushed cheeks, keeping me in place as his forked tongue licked into my mouth and staked its claim. It took a beat or two for me to catch up, to get onboard with the pace and match his skilled dance, but when I did, it instantly refuelled my desire.

The sweet smokiness of whisky still lingered, subtle, and now mixed with his own essence. It would be my drink of choice. I got greedy for it, pawing at Ash to pull him closer, wordlessly begging to be kissed harder, to drown in his taste. He shifted forward, indulging my neediness, but instead of soothing the ache, it brought my focus to a situation even more urgent.

His arousal grazed mine, and though the thick fabric of my jeans would rub me raw, it felt good. Mind-numbingly good. My whole body lit up, and I arched against him with a hiss, seeking more of that pressure. The infernal creature just grinned wide and captured my lips once more, his hips rolling with purpose as his tongue fucked me deeper. Dual stimulation. I tried to meet his rhythm, to be somewhat coordinated instead of just rutting against him with blind need, but awkward clumsiness seemed to be my body's natural language .

Still, it was better than anything I'd ever felt, miles above my own hand, and second only to his mouth—though, this was somehow more intimate—and I didn't want it to ever end.

Until I felt the telltale signs of orgasm clawing at my core, hot and consuming, and I sank into my head again. I wasn't in control, and a nip of panic and self-doubt began worming its way through the overwhelming pleasure, threatening to ruin everything.

Ash must have sensed it, must have caught me drifting away, because he seized my chin, yanking me back from my straying thoughts.

"Focus on me, pet," he demanded with a rough grind of his hips. "You have already impressed me, or I would have killed you already."

"Comforting," I deadpanned, only to groan.

"You don't need to be in control of it all," he said, voice low and commanding. "Let me give you what you need."

Letting go did not come naturally to me. It was like flaying open my chest and removing the parts that made me function, but despite his unknown, possibly heinous intentions, I trusted Ash to keep me grounded. To slot the pieces back into place when he was done. Putting myself at the mercy of a demon in my most defenceless state was not my smartest move, but when it came to losing my virginity, would there ever be a more capable pair of hands?

No half measures .

Before I lost my nerve, I nodded, and his answering grin was oddly soft. "Good," he said, setting his hands over mine and guiding them up to his chest. The feel of silk and lace under my fingertips made my skin tingle. "Now, touch me." He brushed his thumb over my knuckles, a teasing edge to his smile. "Worship me as I know you so desperately want to."

With another nod, I followed his instruction, squeezing and pawing at him with absolutely no finesse, but he seemed pleased. His own hands wandered as well, metal claws scratching lightly at the centre of my chest as he effortlessly unbuttoned my shirt. His fingers splayed over the now bare skin, squeezing the softer areas around my waist before following the path of my ribs up towards my pecs.

He brushed his thumbs over my nipples, pouting when he didn't get the reaction he'd obviously hoped for.

"Hm, I suppose we'll have to train them into sensitivity."

I swallowed hard. "I-I can feel it. I'm just a little— ngh —preoccupied." Trying not to come in my jeans like a teenager, went unsaid.

He hummed and tried again, but instead of another feather-like touch, he set the tips of his metal claws against each bud and pinched. Hard. It stung like a bitch, and pain shot through my nerves like fireworks, but it made everything feel that much more intense. Heightened. My hands dropped to his thighs, fingers digging in as I rutted up, mindlessly seeking friction.

It made him chuckle .

"There we are."

Clearly content with my responsiveness, Ash moved his hands to my waistband, making quick work of undoing the button and zipper. For a split second, he propped up on his knees, making me thrust against air as he shimmied my jeans and briefs out of the way. It was so fast and fluid—quite obviously magic—that I barely had the chance to miss his warm body against me, or prepare for the rush of new feeling when he lowered himself again.

My bare prick, oversensitive and leaking, slid over the bulge in his knickers, the thin, silky fabric doing nothing to stifle the heat or conceal the shape of him. Or help me ignore the fact that this was actually fucking happening.

That someone was actually touching me.

Release crept up so suddenly it was disorientating, but unlike the first time, I welcomed it. My hands scrambled for firmer purchase against Ash's hips. I clung to him like a lifeline, frantically tugging and bucking as our gazes met, tears pricking the edges of my vision. "Please, don't stop. I'm gonna…"

"Do it," he said, eyes flashing as he planted his hands on my pecs—leverage to ride me properly. "Be a good pet and give me your cum."

Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't have stopped how my muscles locked and I came with a choked sob, spilling hot, sticky ropes over my chest and belly.

And Ash's hands .

" Shit, fuck ," I gasped, shuddering as liquid pleasure coursed through me. "I'm sorry. I'm so—"

"Shhh, petal." He rocked against me still, drawing out the sensations as he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. "Mm, you are even more delicious than I'd hoped."

There was nothing I could say to that, so I just stared in blissed-out but still-kinda-horny awe as his forked tongue lapped up every last drop. It was filthy, lewd, and obscene, and I struggled to string together a coherent thought as my brain apparently dribbled straight out through my dick.

Slumping back, I let the soft couch cushions cradle my head and my eyes drift shut for a moment, catching my breath.

"You're in lingerie," I said once I'd calmed, my voice barely a murmur, more of a personal reassurance than an observation. "It's hot as fuck, so I think I can be forgiven."

"Correct on all three counts," he said, his arrogance evident, and I huffed a laugh.

"Modest, too. No wonder I lasted thirty seconds."

"Generous, but it's no matter. You are young, and we have time." He kissed the tip of my nose before standing and offering me a hand. "In fact, why don't we take a shower and try again? In a bed this time."

I was pretty sure he'd breezed past an insult there, but I was too drained and floaty to give two shits. I nodded dumbly, and let him lead me to the bathroom without hesitation.

At that point, if he'd asked for my soul, I'd have dropped to my knees and begged him to take it.

I was truly fucked.