Something vulnerable flickered in his eyes. “Is that what you want?”
“No,” I admitted before I could stop myself. “But I don’t know if what I want is possible. You’re a demon prince. I’m just… me.”
Malphas’s expression softened. “Sam,” he said, his thumb stroking my cheek, “I’m also a suburban homeowner who stress-bakes when the lawn doesn’t green evenly. And you’re not ‘just’ anything. You’re extraordinary.”
The simple sincerity in his words undid me. I surged forward, capturing his mouth in a kiss that conveyed everything I couldn’t say aloud. Malphas responded instantly, his arms wrapping around me, lifting me as if I weighed nothing.
I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me through the house, our mouths still fused together. We didn’t make it tothe bedroom. Instead, Malphas deposited me on the living room sofa, his larger body covering mine as he deepened the kiss.
“Mine,” he growled against my lips, his hands working at the buttons of my shirt. “Say it, Sam. Say you’re mine.”
“Yours,” I gasped as his mouth trailed hot kisses down my neck. “All yours. And you’re mine.”
He pulled back slightly, his eyes blazing red. “Yes,” he agreed, the single word filled with so much meaning it made my chest ache. “Completely yours.”
What followed was different from our previous encounters. There was an urgency, a desperation that hadn’t been there before. Clothes were shed with frantic hands, buttons popping, fabric tearing as our need overcame finesse.
When we were both naked, Malphas paused, looking down at me with an expression that was both possessive and reverent. “I want to mark you,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “So everyone knows you belong to me.”
The request should have seemed primitive, archaic. Instead, it sent heat spiraling through me. “Yes,” I breathed, arching up against him. “Do it.”
His mouth descended to my neck, sucking and biting with just enough pressure to leave marks. His hands roamed my body possessively, mapping every inch of skin as if committing it to memory.
“Turn over,” he commanded when he’d thoroughly marked my neck and chest.
I complied, settling onto my stomach on the wide couch. Malphas’s hands gripped my hips, pulling them up slightly. Then his mouth was on my back, trailing down my spine with hot, open-mouthed kisses.
“Beautiful,” he murmured against my skin. “So perfect.”
His hands kneaded my ass appreciatively, spreading me open. When his tongue flicked against my entrance, I gasped, burying my face in a throw pillow.
“Malphas,” I moaned as he began to work me open with his tongue, the sensation overwhelming in its intimacy.
He took his time, reducing me to a writhing, begging mess before finally replacing his tongue with a slick finger. By the time he had three fingers inside me, I was practically sobbing with need.
“Please,” I gasped, pushing back against his hand. “Need you inside me now.”
“Look at me,” he commanded, withdrawing his fingers.
I turned my head, meeting his gaze over my shoulder. His eyes were pure hellfire, his expression almost feral with desire.
“Mine,” he growled again, lining himself up.
“Yours,” I confirmed, then cried out as he pushed inside me in one smooth thrust.
The stretch was exquisite, the slight burn only enhancing the pleasure. Malphas gave me a moment to adjust, his hands running soothingly down my sides.
“Move,” I finally gasped. “Please, Malphas, move.”
He complied, setting a pace that was neither gentle nor rough, but perfect—deep, measured strokes that hit exactly where I needed them. One of his hands wrapped around my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts.
“No one else gets to see you like this,” he rumbled, his voice deeper than I’d ever heard it. “No one else gets to touch you. Only me.”
“Only you,” I agreed, the possessiveness igniting something primal within me. “And no one else touches you either. You’re mine too.”
His rhythm faltered at my words, and he groaned, a sound that seemed to come from the very depths of his being. “Yes, Sam. Yours. Always yours.”
The intensity between us built rapidly, our bodies moving in perfect synchrony. I was close, so close, teetering on the edge of release.
