“Breathe,” Whichello murmured, and then his tongue was there, licking over Isaac’s hole in a way that made his entire body jerk.
“What are you—oh fuck.” The words dissolved into incoherent sounds as Whichello’s tongue circled, pressed, worked inside with a patience that felt at odds with the urgency radiating from every touch.
Isaac’s hands scrambled for purchase on the sheets, hips pushing back without conscious thought. Whichello’s grip on his ass tightened, holding him open while his tongue went deeper, and Isaac felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Then there was pressure from a finger, slick with something, sliding in alongside Whichello’s tongue, and Isaac’s moan was muffled by the pillow.
“More,” he heard himself say, his voice wrecked and desperate. “Please.”
Whichello added a second finger, stretching, working him open with movements that felt almost reverent. His mouth moved to bite at Isaac’s ass, teeth sharp enough to sting before his tongue soothed over the marks. The third finger made Isaac gasp, body adjusting to the fullness, and Whichello’s other hand stroked down his back in a gesture that might have been comforting if Isaac’s entire nervous system wasn’t currently on fire.
“You ready for me?” Whichello asked, his fingers curling inside Isaac in a way that made stars explode across his vision.
“Yes,” Isaac panted, then laughed because the situation was absurd—him begging a demon to fuck him, mate bond or not. “Get on with it before I change my mind.”
Whichello’s growl vibrated through the mattress. He flipped Isaac over because, apparently, the demon wanted to watch his face, and Isaac barely had time to process the shift before Whichello’s cock was pressing against his hole.
Then Isaac felt a spurt, something wet and warm bathing his entrance.
Demons have natural lubricant,” Whichello murmured. “It also relaxes your ring of muscle.”
The first push stole Isaac’s breath, fullness that bordered on too much. Whichello moved slowly, letting Isaac adjust to every inch, and Whichello’s face looked almost pained with the effort of restraint. Isaac wrapped his legs around Whichello’s waist, pulling him deeper, and watched those gray eyes go black.
“You’re going to kill me,” Whichello breathed, his hips finally flush against Isaac’s ass.
Isaac deliberately clenched around the hard cock, satisfied when Whichello’s control visibly cracked.
The next thrust was harder, deeper, hitting something inside Isaac that made his vision white out. Whichello set a rhythm that felt both too much and not enough, each movement dragging pleasure from places Isaac didn’t know could feel like this. His cock leaked against his stomach, untouched, and every time Whichello’s hips snapped forward, Isaac’s entire body jolted.
“Touch yourself,” Whichello ordered, voice completely feral.
Isaac obeyed, wrapping his hand around his cock, and the dual sensations made his head fall back. Whichello’s hands gripped his thighs, holding him open.
“Harder,” Isaac demanded, because some part of him needed to push, needed to see how far Whichello would go.
The demon’s smirk was dangerous. He pulled almost all the way out then slammed back in with enough force to make the headboard hit the wall. Isaac’s laugh came out breathless, delighted, and he bucked his hips deliberately, making Whichello work for every thrust.
“You’re impossible,” Whichello growled, but his eyes held something like admiration.
“You’re slow,” Isaac shot back, stroking himself faster.
Whichello hauled Isaac’s hips higher, changing the angle, and the next thrust hit that spot inside Isaac that made rational thought impossible. Isaac’s hand moved frantically on his cock, pleasure building toward something that felt apocalyptic. Whichello’s pace turned punishing, each thrust driving deeper, and Isaac could hear the sounds they were making—skin on skin, his own desperate moans, Whichello’s ragged breathing.
“Isaac,” Whichello gritted out, and Isaac could see him fighting for control, muscles straining with the effort. “Come for me.”
The command pushed Isaac over the edge. His orgasm hit like a tidal surge, body clenching around Whichello’s cock as he came over his hand, his stomach, a kaleidoscope of colors bursting behind his eyes. Through the haze of pleasure, he felt Whichello lean down, felt teeth sink into the junction where his throat met his shoulder, pain and pleasure mixing into something transcendent.
Whichello’s hips stuttered, thrusts going erratic, and Isaac felt him come inside with a heat that made his already oversensitive body jerk. The bite deepened, blood welling up, and Isaac felt something snap into place that had been straining between them since the auction. Isaac’s breath caught. His heart synchronized with Whichello’s, their souls soldering, sealing their bond. Their connection hummed on the deepest level as Isaac felt something fundamental shift in his bones.
Whichello’s teeth released, and Isaac’s body went limp, completely spent. The demon collapsed beside him, careful not to crush him, both of them gasping for air. Whichello’s tongue lapped at the bite mark he’d left, soothing the sting.
A sharp knock on the door shattered the moment. Whichello pulled back with a snarl that made the windows frost over.
“What?” The word came out as a growl that promised violence.
“Boss.” Marcus’s voice came through the thick wood, urgent in a way that made Isaac’s stomach clench with fresh dread. “We have a problem. Dimitri isn’t in his cell.”
Chapter Seven
Whichello was already moving toward the door, pulling on clothes with movements that felt too slow despite their speed. Isaac sat up behind him, sheets pooling around his waist, and Whichello forced himself not to look back at the bite mark he’d left on pale skin.
