No, no, no. Noah was about to burst. He had to calm down. Had to get away from Reign before he lost it and just gave in, prison and everything be damned. He’d never wanted something as much as he wanted Reign. But he couldn’t have the diplomat, couldn’t reach out and see how Reign would respond, so instead he focused on the moon’s reflection in the sea, then directed his gaze to the cloudless sky, then the briny, rumbling waves as they met the shore, and then the thousands and millions of grains of sand beneath his feet. Anything but Reign Lennox.
Noah expended every ounce of willpower he had to regain hold of himself, to stop his heart from bursting out of his chest, and it took until they reached the base of the stairs for him to feel somewhat stable again.
“Even if I did, I’m stuck going anyway,” he finally managed, though his voice came out still shaky.
“Then both of us better make sure we are well rested for tomorrow.”
Easy for Reign to say, when he wasn’t cursed with the vivid imagination Noah possessed. Or the sex drive he couldn’t satisfy.
“Reign!” Abi screamed from the top of the stairs, waving at them, and saved Noah from having to endure another desire-induced heart attack. “You’re back just in time! We are heading to the hotel!”
Reign placed his hand on Noah’s shoulder, the contact reigniting the fluttering sensation in the pit of Noah’s stomach. Fortunately, the touch was light and didn’t linger. “Good night, Noah. I enjoyed our walk.”
The sensuality in Reign’s voice was devastating, threatening the balance within Noah again. But the growing distance between them as Reign climbed the stairs helped Noah’s self-control prevail. “Good night… Reign,” he whispered once there was no one but him on the beach.
It took the taxi too long to take Noah to his apartment, the shower too long to wash off the sand, the towel too long to dry off the water still clinging to his skin. He was burning,on fire, his mind and body full of the man he’d met tonight.
Reign Lennox.
It was all too much. The way the diplomat looked like a copy of the red-skinned companion Noah had invented, his ambiguous words, his voice, captivating as much as his dark eyes, his mannerisms... All of it was so perfect, so fitting a match forhim. But Reign wasn’t him, he couldn’t be. Reign was a real person, flesh and blood, not an imaginary demon from Hell who didn’t even exist in the old rituals tome hidden beneath Noah’s bed.
Yet, that didn’t stop Noah. Didn’t prevent him from diving deep into his delusions. It just made them more tempting, more dangerous and frustrating.
More arousing.
Noah’s hand wrapped around the base of his throbbing cock. Squeezed, then slid up in a firm hold, his other one making its way from his mouth toward his ass.
Unlike a fantasy, Reign could be touched. Felt. Tasted. He had touched Noah, if briefly, the contact electrifying.Damn. Noah wanted the man so much he didn’t know what to do with it. But having him was just impossible, not even worth dreaming about unless Noah could make it outof the Holy Empire. Unless he could leave and go where the Church couldn’t reach him.
Noah could havehimthough, the fantasy, non-human version of Reign. Because that’s what the made-up demon was—a conjured up Reign based on the fascination Noah had with the demons in the prohibited book.
Noah quickened the pace of his strokes, rubbed his spit-slicked fingers around his entrance, but it wasn’t enough. He groaned. He wanted to be watched, he needed the demon here, his hungry gaze, his silent but palpable presence. Yet, he wasn’t manifesting, wasn’t answering Noah’s need, just like he hadn’t been in the past few days. Was it stress? Or maybe it was Teresa skewing Noah’s ability to relax, to give into his true desires from fear of being found out.
Noah bit on his bottom lip, stifled a moan. He closed his eyes, focusing on how the sensation of Reign’s hand had felt on his damp cheek, on his shoulder. He whimpered, inserting a finger. How would it feel to have not his but Reign’s fingers wrapped around him? Working his cock roughly like Noah was doing it right now? Shit, why wasn’t the fantasy workin—
“Is it me you are looking for?”
Noah’s eyes shot open at the sound of Reign’s voice.Hewas there, the demon version of the man, perching on his favorite spot on the desk, his tail flicking left and right.
“Why’d you stop, Noah?” the demon rasped in that same lilt of Reign’s voice. He licked his lips. “Show me more.”
It was absurd how well the diplomat’s voice suited him… as if it was meant for him from the very start. But he’d been silent so far, so why was he speakingnow?
“You’ve never”—Noah shuddered, gasping—“talked to me. Why… now? Why his… voice?”
“I don’t know, Noah.” The demon smirked, and Noah found something not quite human in the stretch of his lips as they curved up to accommodate his leering. “Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that?”
Noah had lost it. He’d gone crazy. But he was also turned on like he’d never been before, because his visitor wasn’t voiceless anymore. He’d taken on that irresistible voice and made it his and become even more perfect, a truer amalgamation of Reign Lennox and an imagined demon from Hell.
Noah let go of his thoughts and focused on the sensations coursing through his body while his mind fed off the demon-man watching him. As usual, he did nothing, simply observed, but that was enough. More than enough, because this time he encouraged Noah with his seductive voice, riling him up until he couldn’t take it anymore and lost himself to the thrill of his best orgasm.
6
With only four hours of sleep, Noah was already exhausted by the time Teresa picked him up so they could meet up with the Asian representatives at the Monument of Peace. The sun irritated him as soon as they got off the taxi, and the impeccable whiteness of the marble surrounding them only multiplied that irritation, turning it into a throbbing headache. Lack of sleep did that to a person, but then again, this particular headache?One hundred percent worth it.
A guide led Noah and the rest up the stairs to the top, where the massive statue of two angels kneeling before a cross stood high and proud. For whatever incomprehensible reasons, the Church seemed to love its statues, erecting them at every intersection and plaza it could manage. Small, big, medium-sized, bronze, copper, wood, marble; it didn’t matter as long as they littered every city within the limits of the Holy Empire like some kind of stationary sentinels keeping vigil over the population.
Aside from proof of its self-centeredness, the sheer number of structures spoke volumes about the funds the Church had at its disposal which Noah thought would bebetter utilized for literally anything but thirty-meter tall marble statues at every park, block or roof.
