“Because you've never seen a proper one.” I kiss her forehead. “And because I want to show you off. Spoil you for an evening that has nothing to do with diapers.”
Her shoulders lower a fraction. “Alright.”
“If at any moment you want to leave, we leave,” I reassure her.
“Alright,” she repeats, softer this time.
The estate isalive when we arrive, the air thick with the scent of sex and the sound of music.
Simone's hand tightens around mine as we step through the carved doors into the great hall. I keep her tucked against my side, partially shielding her without quite hiding her. Mine. Always.
Demons part for us as we move deeper into the villa. Some bow. Some drop to their knees. A few too lost in their pleasure don't notice us at all, their eyes glazed, mouths slack as they ride and are ridden.
Simone's gaze flickers everywhere, eyes huge.
A pair of succubi twine together on a low divan, leathery wings half-extended, their tongues forked and tangling as one rides the other's thigh. Across the way, an incubus has three demonesses arranged around him on velvet cushions, his hands and mouth working two while a third sucks him off with single-minded devotion.
Near a fountain of dark wine, a faun lounges on his back, hooves crossed, hairy goat-legs splayed indecently. A horned demoness rides him with abandon, her hands braced on his furred thighs, her head thrown back. The faun strokes her with a thumb between her legs, his other fingers playing with the ass of an incubus straddling his face.
“Mon Dieu,” Simone breathes, her head turning like she doesn't know where to look first. Her pulse is racing under my fingers where they rest on her hip, and the vanilla in her scent has deepened, threading through the orchid in a way that has my cock aching already.
“You're aroused,” I murmur in her ear.
“It's a lot,” she whispers back, cheeks pink.
“Do you want to leave?”
She shakes her head, then turns her face up to mine, eyes glazed with something between fascination and embarrassment. “I want to watch a little. Is that wrong?”
“No, little fairy.” I press my lips to her temple. “It's exactly what's meant to happen here.”
We drift along the edge of the great hall, and I keep one arm around her waist, my fingers spread possessively across her hip. I glare at every demon who looks at her for too long.
Mine.
Simone's gaze catches on something across the chamber, lingering, and I follow the line of her sight.
She's looking at a St. Andrew's cross, the obsidian wood polished and gleaming in the candlelight. It's empty at the moment. Waiting.
Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip.
I lean down. “Are you looking at what I think you're looking at, little fairy?”
Her cheeks burn. “I'm not?—”
“Don't lie to me.” My voice drops. “I know when you're aroused.”
She exhales loudly. “I was just curious.”
I tip her face up with one finger under her chin. “Would you like me to put you on it?”
“Az—”
“Tell me yes or no.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows, wide eyes flickering back to the cross, then to me.
“Yes,” she breathes.
