“Who was that?”
“Uh.”
“I can take you. Teleport inside. Safe.”
Nicolas’s expression cleared. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Who are you talking to?”
“A—friend. Let me get some coffee going and then I’ll come to the skating rink, okay?”
“Okay. Don’t be seen.”
Nicolas’s gaze found Ashmedai’s. “I won’t.”
They hung up, and Nicolas sat at the foot of the bed to dress. Ashmedai watched him thread one foot after the other into a pair of black undershorts. The fabric dragged up the long length of his legs and over the delicate curve of his hip, and when he looked up, he realized Nicolas was watching him, his cheeks flushed and his mouth curling into a bashful smile.
“Beautiful,” he said.
Nicolas ducked his head, sitting back down on the bed and reaching for his jeans. “No one’s ever called me that before, you know.”
Ashmedai closed the distance between them. He wanted to always tell Nicolas he was beautiful. Wanted his face to always be flushed with pleasure like it was now. His head tipped back to maintain eye contact as Ashmedai stepped between his legs. His eyes were shot through with gold, like a tiger’s eye gemstone, and Ashmedai’s fingers curled around his chin, cradling. Nicolas’s lips parted, his brow furrowing with need, and Ashmedai was helpless to resist him.
Their lips crushed between their teeth, Ashmedai’s tongue wrapped around Nicolas’s, and he insistently pushed him down onto the bed with his lower legs hanging off the end.
Nicolas groaned. “I really need to get over there. He said they’re having a crisis.”
“Soon.” He wanted to taste him one last time before they had to leave, so he wasted no time peeling his undershortshalfway down his thighs. Covering his sharp teeth with his lips, he sucked Nicolas’s weeping length down quickly.
“Ah, fuck,” Nicolas groaned as Ashmedai took him to the root, sucking hard. His chest heaved, and Ashmedai’s sharp claws pricked his hips.
Trim claws, he thought as Nicolas’s thighs tightened around his body. Then he could push his legs up and sink his fingers inside while he did this, watch Nicolas ride them like they were his cock. With his free hand, he reached down and pressed the heel of his hand to his slit to prevent his own cock from emerging. They didn’t have time to rut together like they had last night. Maybe later, after their meeting, and he could be patient until then.
“Please, please, please,” Nicolas said mindlessly. Ashmedai watched the flex of his abdomen as he rocked his length up into the tight grip of Ashmedai’s mouth.
Nicolas moaned, long and low, as his cock swelled and jerked, spilling down Ashmedai’s throat. He purred in delight at the salty taste, holding it in his mouth as he continued to massage Nicolas’s cock, making everything slick. Deep, wanton sounds left Nicolas now, his fingers twisting in the blanket beneath him. Ashmedai swallowed bit by bit, savoring it as long as he could, until Nicolas hissed with oversensitivity and tried to push him away. Only then did he gentle his movements and release his flaccid length.
“My God,” Nicolas slurred, staring up at the ceiling. “Who needs coffee after something like that?”
Ashmedai didn’t know what coffee was, but he assumed that was a compliment. He tugged the shorts back up and leaned over his face. “Tasty light.”
Nicolas tilted his head in surprise and let out a bark of laughter that lit up his whole face. Ashmedai took his handsand pulled him upright to let him finish dressing, and then followed him into the kitchen, where he started doing something to a black machine.
“Have you ever had coffee?” Nicolas asked as he poured a dark brown powder into a thin, white paper bowl.
“No.”
“Want to try some?” Nicolas shot him a smile. “If you can eat and drink solid food, that is. Or is it just the sins of evil people?”
“Sins,” Ashmedai said, leaning against the counter and bracing his hands against it. He liked being in Nicolas’s space like this, watching him do ordinary human things.
Nicolas clucked his tongue in disappointment. “Shame. Coffee’s great.”
“Glad… you think so,” he said slowly, testing the words. He knew twenty-five demonic languages and half a dozen dead human ones. It shouldn’t be so hard to find the right words, and he caught himself growling in frustration. He wanted to talk to his human, wanted to share things and tease him and comfort him the way he saw the other demons do with their humans.
Nicolas turned to him with a smile as the machine burbled. “You’re getting better at speaking.”
“Am I?”
