“Okay, so what are demons’ top hobbies?” I asked, letting my fingers trace the waterline along his ribs. “Besides, you know. This.”
He made a thoughtful noise, like he was reading the question off a card. “Number one is cheating at board games. Number two is making up new rules to board games so you can’t technically call it cheating. Number three is pretending we’re not vulnerable, even when we are.”
“Sounds a lot like humans,” I said, and dipped my pinky in the swirl between our bodies, marveling at the way our skin looked together—his, unearthly and dark, mine pale as a peeled grape in the haze of the evening. Even the water felt different on us. He steamed; I pruned.
“Maybe that’s why they keep trying,” Samiel said. “Matching monsters to mortals. See who can outlast the experiment.” His voice was so soft I almost missed the edge of longing in it.
I wanted to say something grand, something to shatter the moment open, but this didn’t need a speech. I just pressed my forehead to his, the horns cool and smooth against my hairline, and let the hush do the rest.
A minute passed, maybe more. My body felt right for the first time in years, perfectly weighted and perfectly suspended. Eventually, I felt Sam’s knot soften and his cock slip out of me, leaving me feeling hollowed out.
I felt suddenly loose and floaty, limbs light, like I could just drift in the tub forever. I stretched out my legs and watched the foam swirl around us, pink from the sky above and tinged blue from the LED at the bottom of the tub. Samiel tucked me under his arm, easing my body to rest against the line of his, which was oddly comforting, like we’d done this a hundred times before. He stared out over the deck rail and the sand and the distant glassy lake. I followed his gaze, and for the first time in maybe a decade, I allowed myself to just sit in the moment.
The sunset was ridiculous. The sky laid itself open in layers—coral, then orange, then a seam of purple so dramatic it looked like a digital filter. The clouds above the lake glowed from underneath, and the water reflected a smear of molten gold that rippled and broke against the shore.
It was so beautiful I had to look away, because it made my heart clench in a way that was embarrassing. I distracted myself by letting my hand wander along Samiel’s ribcage, mapping outthe grooves under his skin. He shivered a little, and I felt a spike of satisfaction—maybe I wasn’t the only one knocked off-balance.
“So,” I said, making my voice as casual as possible, “what’s the protocol after this? Do we light a ceremonial candle? Sacrifice a neighbor? Announce our engagement to the HOA?”
Samiel’s hand tightened a fraction on my shoulder. “Now, we survive our chaperone check-in at noon tomorrow, and otherwise…” He gestured at the world, at the lake, at my still-wet thighs and the way I blinked up at him. “We do whatever the hell we want. Three days, no interruptions. They’re strict about it—the town is off-limits, phones don’t work very well this close to the portal, and nobody’s allowed to interfere unless we’re dying or on fire. I asked. They said dying was preferable.”
I grinned, picturing the mayor with a clipboard and a fire extinguisher, ticking offasphyxiation by demon dickon his incident report. “So we’re marooned together, is what you’re saying.”
He shrugged, a ripple of muscle and nonchalance. “Marooned implies you want to leave.”
I snorted but didn’t argue. The idea of being stuck here for three days with nothing but a demon, a haunted lake, and a fridge full of snacks felt less like a punishment and more like a gift.
“I think I can handle it,” I said, and nudged my head under his chin. “You’re a pretty decent island to be marooned on.”
He made a sound in his throat, almost a purr. “I can do better than decent. Just…” He hesitated, and his hand came up to cup the back of my skull, careful as if I were truly breakable. “There are some things I’m supposed to do. Some… tests. But I want to wait. Surprise you. If that’s okay.”
I tilted up, squinting at him through the steam. “Tests? Like compatibility challenges, or are you going to try to drown me and see if I float?”
It was a joke, but Samiel’s hesitation was real. “A little bit of both, maybe.” He ran his thumb along the edge of my ear, a rhythm meant to soothe, but his eyes stayed locked on the horizon.
I wasn’t sure why, but I liked that he didn’t want to give it all away at once. There was something weirdly respectful about it. He didn’t want to scare me off, or maybe he didn’t want to scare himself, but either way, he wanted to do it right. It made my insides do that little flip they only ever did after the credits rolled on a good horror movie, the kind where you got exactly what you came for but still weren’t sure if you’d sleep tonight.
“Okay,” I said, after a while. “Surprise me, then. But if it’s a trust fall over the lake, I’m pushing you in first.”
He chuckled, and the sound was so human, it almost startled me. “Deal. But you should know, I can’t drown. Not even if you held my head under.”
I snorted. “Now I have to try, just to see the science.”
The temperature fell off a cliff after sunset, desert warmth bleeding into a blue-black cold that sank through the deck and bit every patch of exposed skin. I shivered, and Samiel, without a word, shifted his wings to create a windbreak, then pulled me almost all the way onto his lap. The way his body radiated heat made it feel like he’d absorbed the sun and was now parceling it out, molecule by molecule, for my benefit alone. There was a weird comfort in the way he held me, not possessive but present, like I was an answer to a question he’d spent years trying not to ask.
We stayed like that until the jets cycled off and the hush of the valley swept back in. Eventually, the chill crept back into my bones, the desert night reasserting itself. I shivered, and Samielimmediately lifted me out of the tub, wrapping me in a towel so oversized, it may have doubled as a tent. He carried me back inside without a word. The glass doors whooshed shut behind us and for a second, I thought I heard the echo of my own scream ricochet off the lake. There was a moment of vertigo as Samiel held me suspended above the carpet, wings braced for balance, his eyes black with want—and then the towel slipped, baring me again, and he tucked it around me like a secret.
My stomach, always the loyal saboteur, seized the moment to make its needs violently known. It let out a noise so outrageous and prolonged it sounded like into a new species of lesser demon. The sound vibrated between us, echoing off the glass and the concrete, and I felt my cheeks heat up in the way only hunger and the total dissolution of dignity could produce.
Samiel arched a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “That,” he said, “sounds like a threat.”
I peeled the towel up higher on my chest, pretending it was armor. “You’d better feed me before I eat you. And not in the fun way.”
He set me down gently, feet barely touching the shag rug, and then let his hands linger at my waist for a beat too long. “What do you want? I stocked for every contingency.”
I considered. “Surprise me. But nothing processed. I want real food. I want, like, dinner.” The admission sounded juvenile, but Samiel’s face broke into a lopsided grin like I’d just passed a test he wasn’t sure I’d studied for.
He stalked into the kitchen, flicking on the lights with his tail. He rummaged in the fridge, and I watched the play of muscle at his back, the way his wings tucked in but quivered at the tips every time I shifted the towel and exposed a patch of thigh. Maybe he noticed; maybe he just liked the idea of me watching. Either way, he moved like a man who wanted to be caught.
