And then, he smiles.
My leg flies up, aiming for his shin, but he dodges easily and bursts out laughing.
“You are so evil,” I say, punching his stomach. His laughter only grows louder. “You are literally the reincarnation of Satan,” I add, half laughing, half furious.
He raises a brow, still laughing. “Satan? You mean Lucifer?”
I nod. “Yes. Your other identity.”
His face turns serious in a second. “I’m far less evil than him.”
I punch his stomach again, and he starts laughing all over again. “Still acting,” I say, equal parts awed and annoyed. “I can’t believe how flawlessly you do this.”
He grabs my fists and pulls me into him. I wrap my arms around his waist. He circles his arms around mine, holding me close.
“Thanks for the compliment, wifey,” he says, grinning.
I narrow my eyes at him, tilting my face up to meet his because of his ridiculous height. “Now I can’t even believe you were serious when you said you love me. And the poetry you followed it with only makes me doubt you more.”
He lowers his face until our noses brush. “Believe me, Angel. I have never said anything more truthful in my entire life, not even to myself.”
I rise onto my tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips. He is evil, manipulative, selfish—everything wrong.
But he is mine.
chapter 41
Matleon
By the time we reach the treehouse, it’s already 6 PM. A little more time, and darkness will fall everywhere, and I’ll be able to eat her again.
I lie down on the bed, hands behind my head. “Let’s play a game, Angel.”
She’s sitting near me, legs folded to one side. “What game?”
I take one hand out from under my head and slowly rub her thigh, riding her shorts up further. “That very old game where you have to answer the question the other person asks, or remove one piece of clothing.”
She nods, shifting closer to me. “Alright. I’ll ask you the first question.” She grins, mischief dancing across her lovely face.
“Go on,” I say, my fingers tracing the outline of her panty beneath her shorts.
She glances at my hand, then back up at my face. “What did you imagine the first time when you… you know… did the thing thinking about me?”
I chuckle at her flushed face. “You mean, what did I imagine while I jerked off imagining fucking you for the first time?”
She nods, biting her lower lip.
I pull my hand away from her shorts and drag her onto me. She lays half on top of me, half on the bed, head propped up, watching intently as I start to answer her question.
“I was looking at your photo… wait, let me show you which one.” I take out my phone, open the folder under her name, and scroll through the photos. There are all the pictures I’ve captured of her, the ones she’s sent me, and a few she uploaded on social media. I scroll through the images. “You have so many pictures of mine,” she says in surprise.
I chuckle and open the image I want to show her. It’s the photo Wen uploaded from that very Christmas—that made me realize my dick could actually respond for a woman. Otherwise, people like Kaz had already declared me asexual.
“So I was looking at this photo.” I zoom in on her face. She’s sipping a drink through a straw. “This image is cute, but with a hard dick, it could easily transform into a jerking material,” I tell her, making her scrunch her nose in protest.
“All I need to do is imagine my dick between your lips. It’s a little difficult, considering my cock is way thicker than this straw, but as I told you, hard-dick imaginations are wild.”
I turn off my phone and focus entirely on her. “So, I imagined you sucking my dick.”
