Peace borrowed was still peace.
“What are you doing?” Di emerged from the bathroom carrying towels, and a grin spread across my face.
I reached for him and pressed him against the bookshelf. He gasped, towels dropping to the floor. Before he could protest, I kissed him roughly, my hands grabbing his ass as he moaned.
I'd never get enough of these sounds.
Pulling away slightly, I met his lust-filled gaze. "I was imagining moving all of your books out of here," I teased.
"Oh, don't complain. You're a strong demon."
“Is that so?”
“However, if even a single page of one of my books is damaged, I’m gonna kill you.”
An idea formed. “Really?”
Before he could respond, I captured his lips again, sucking on his tongue as he shivered and pressed into me. My cock was rock-hard, but my attention stayed fixed on the man in my arms. I moved my mouth to his neck, leaving a possessive mark, relishing how he felt cradled against me, tasting like mine.
Always mine.
Through the bond I felt his want unfurl, sharp, immediate, soft at the edges. Two months in, the bond was conversation. It told me where to put my mouth before he asked. It told me when to slow down before he begged. I felt his pulse jump under my lips and I knew, the way you know a song you have memorized, exactly what he was going to do with his hands next.
He did it.
The bond hummed in satisfaction. The bookworm had patterns. I loved every one of them.
Dropping to my knees, I shoved his pants down, mouth watering at the sight of his cock glistening with precum. I swiped my tongue across the tip, humming in delight. Wrapping my hands around his ass, I took him deep into my throat.
“Fuck, Dagon. Yes,” he moaned.
Pulling back briefly, I whispered, "Fuck my mouth, love. Don't hold back those moans."
“Fuck.”
He began thrusting wildly, gripping the shelf with one hand and my hair with the other. A book tumbled to the floor, but he didn't notice. The possessive look in his eyes mirrored mine perfectly.
Knowing exactly how to drive him wild, I sucked my finger and brought it to his entrance as I took his cock deep again.
"I'm going to come. Dagon!"
He thrust faster, body tense, moans echoing. I pushed my finger into him, hitting that perfect spot. He screamed my name as he spilled deep down my throat. The taste of him overwhelmed me, and suddenly an orgasm hit me through out bond, waves of pleasure cascading through me without even touching myself.
Spent, I pulled away, panting. Di straddled me, dazed and blissed out.
"Did you just come without touching yourself?" he asked.
“Hard not to when you feel so good.”
He kissed me, and I melted at the feelings coming through the bond. Love, happiness, satisfaction, and possessiveness. Who would have thought my bookworm would be almost as possessive as me?
“I love you,” he whispered against my lips.
“I love you too.” Grinning mischievously, I asked, “What were you saying about your books?"
His eyes narrowed, and he looked around spotting the fallen book. "No! That's a special edition! Please be okay." He cradled it tenderly before glaring at me. "You!"
I laughed, instantly realizing my mistake. Never laugh at a bookworm and his endangered, special books.
