“Don’t strain yourself,” I said, unable to fight the guilt that systematically reared its head every time I thought of him doing all that work for me.
His unimpressed look had me scrunching my face again. I didn’t know if I would ever fully be at peace with the idea that someone actually craved doing chores or any other form of manual labor.
“Fine. Just so you know, I won’t buy too many things today. I’ll just get the basic necessities for you. Tomorrow, we can go back together so that you can choose things more to your liking to complete your wardrobe.”
“Very well,” he said with a smile.
The doorbell startled me.
“He’s here! I better get going.”
I pulled away from his embrace, grabbed my purse, and hurried out of the workshop. As I entered the main hallway towards the entrance, a familiar ball of fire zipped past me in the strangest déjà vu. Vazul stopped in front of the door and shifted back into his demon form. Fist on his hips, his cock still erect, he glared at me disapprovingly.
“Where’s my goodbye kiss?” he demanded.
I snorted. “Haven’t you had enough of those already?”
“From you? Never,” he said in a self-evident manner.
Cue exploding ovaries. Yeah, I was a sucker for feeling needed and wanted. I didn’t know if being a sex demon made it an automatic go to behavior for him, or if he felt compelled to act lovey dovey towards me. But right this instant, I didn’t care. His reactions to me seemed genuine, and I loved how he made me feel.
“Fine, you bully,” I said playfully while closing the distance between us.
He drew me against him and claimed my mouth with a possessiveness that had my toes curling and my girly bits standing to attention. Fuck, how could he get me this horny soquickly? My pussy was still raw from the most savage ride it had ever experienced before. And yet, here I was aching for more as his wicked tongue plundered my mouth.
His hand slipped over my behind, giving my right cheek a tight squeeze even as he pressed me against his pelvis. My demon loved my butt. I couldn’t blame him. Of all my physical attributes, I couldn’t deny that my booty was fine as hell.
The bell ringing again had me yelping against his lips. I pushed away from him while he chuckled smugly. I glared at him and flicked his dick as punishment. He gasped, and gave me the weirdest expression halfway between shock, outrage, and amusement.
“See you later. And be a good boy while I’m gone,” I said in a singsong voice before hurrying out of the house with his sexy laughter following me.
I picked up my car and drove directly to the mall. The whole drive, I started questioning everything all over again. What the hell was I doing? How did I go from picking up my ex-roommate’s leftover junk to getting my pussy plowed to oblivion by a demon, all in one day?
I don’t know jack shit about him.
Granted, everything I read online after he pointed out the proper spelling to me matched what Sophia had said. Frankly, her stating that I would be crazy not to keep him played a major role in lowering my defenses. But this still was nothing like me.
The sex was beyond stellar. I couldn’t picture myself ever settling for anyone else after that. There would be no possible comparison. But was he leeching me? He swore he wouldn’t, and I didn’t feel anything that indicated that he might have been. However, was it something you actually could feel?
What did that mean for the future? Should I eventually meet a man I wanted to settle down with, he would never accept me having a demon lover—not that I would ever want to cheat onmy partner. And I strongly suspected that Vazul wouldn’t be willing to share me either. It didn’t really make sense why it would upset him. After all, as a sex demon, he would likely be down with fucking everything and anything that moved. And yet, at a visceral level, I genuinely believed he would incinerate any male that came sniffing my way.
It’s the way he said that I was his.
That thought gave me pause. Right before he came inside of me, he did claim me with a possessiveness that left no room for interpretation. As much as he said that he belonged to me as my loyal servant, my gut told me that he also claimed ownership over me.
What kind of freak am I that this pleases me?
Yeah, with my demon around, there would be no other boyfriend. Anyway, based on what I read—and which he confirmed—the only way for us to separate was if either one dies. So I was stuck with him, and he with me. I could think of worse situations to be in.
But that also meant I needed to get him legal papers. As the arcane world continued to evolve in secret, I would have to hit up the Council of Witches for their assistance in sorting out his paperwork.
Not for the first time, I berated myself for not pursuing the craft more seriously. I didn’t know anything about summoned demons. As I’d never been power hungry, I only dabbled in the lesser spells of convenience like the strength spell I used earlier this morning. Officially, I didn’t belong to any coven, which left me in a rather vulnerable place and without some of the resources those more seriously involved benefited from.
Vazul’s entrance into my life would require me to make a number of changes. More importantly, I would need to really sit down with him and sort out our future relationship. I was fine with a demon boyfriend, but I didn’t want a slave. He called meMistress a few times, and that made me uncomfortable. We would figure out a way to cater to his need to perform tasks in a way that didn’t make him a servant.
As if things were still steadily looking up, I quickly found a parking spot near the entrance and hurried inside. Having already pre-planned which stops I would make, I made a beeline for the main men’s fashion store and grabbed the essentials. I should have questioned him about if he had specific preferences. Granted, I was only picking some undies, socks, a couple of pants, and shirts, but I didn’t even know if he had color preferences. As his human form was also substantially bulkier than his demon one, I focused on buying items for the former. I suspected Vazul wouldn’t bother with too many layers while at home in his natural form.
After picking up a pair of shoes, once again berating myself for not taking proper measurements, I headed for the checkout counters. I had just taken my credit card back from the cashier and was returning it to my wallet when a familiar voice resounded behind me.
