Page 29 of How Not to Date a Demon

Maeve stared down at him, and Galen’s stomach jumped under her perusal. “Looks like you need some help,” she suggested sweetly.

Galen groaned. “Can I touch you yet?”

“No,” she said dryly. Tonight wasn’t a night for ropes, so she was going to have to trust that Galen would behave.

“You’re so mean,” he said, voice low and rumbly and delicious.

“And you love it,” she whispered, lifting her eyes to meet his gaze. Slowly, Maeve slid her hands from her own thighs, down to her knees before skimming over Galen’s thighs. Gliding her fingers up gently, she disturbed his dark hair and watched goosebumps crawl over his skin.

She paused, palm flat on the right side of his pelvis, and watched his gaze as she inched closer to his not fast enough erection.

A shift of his gaze, a twitch of his lips, a nervous swallow. She was looking for any sign that he was already too sensitive, but he didn’t even breathe until she lifted her hand.

“Spit on me,” he said, the request coming out on a rasp, as if he’d surprised himself with it.

“Happily,” Maeve obliged. Wrapping her hand around him anyway, she stood him up and tilted her head down, gathering the saliva in her mouth before pursing her lips and releasing it. It dripped right on the head of his cock, in the circle she made with her thumb and forefinger.

Excellent aim, if I do say so myself.

He’d probably been expecting something a little meaner, but she was wet and getting a little impatient. Using the slickness to make the glide smoother, she stroked him to a full erection.

“Ah—ah,” Galen gasped, hips hitching down, trying to get away from her touch.

“Aw, sensitive?”

He nodded, mouth slack and gaze locked on where her hand squeezed him slowly.

“Is it too much? Guess you won’t be able to fuck me then, huh? What good are you?” She pouted for good effect, easing forward and sliding him between her legs.

He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt how wet she was. Fuck, this man.

“Fuck me,” he said.

“What’s that?” she asked, tilting her head at him with a sly smile.

Galen let his head smack against the mattress. “Ugh! Just ride me! Please, for the love of—”

All Maeve was searching for was that one tiny little word. Please. That was all it took before she lifted up, notched him at her center, and started lowering herself.

Pulling Galen apart like this required so much trust and care and attention, but it was worth every second. And it was so, so hot to have a man like Galen under her. One who adored her and all her weird quirks and her not-so-controlled temperament, who made her coffee with little sticky notes and cute doodles. Who found a hundred ways to say I love you, not even one of them found in the dictionary.

Maeve loved this big, soft idiot. Might even go so far as to say she needed him.

She wanted him to need her. And it was never more apparent how much until he was begging for her.

Lowering herself down his length, she wasn’t satisfied until her ass met the tops of his thighs. Maeve paused for a moment, let the pleasure melt through her veins and heat her blood to boiling. “Fucking hell,” she moaned. “You talk about me being perfect, but nothing is better than the way you fill me up.”

His fingers gripped the sheets as she talked, as she slowly rocked herself on his lap. Every inch of him was inside her, and she felt so full, so good.

Trying to keep her last two brain cells together, Maeve grabbed his hands off the sheets and led them to her hips. Focused on remembering that no matter how soft she was for him, Galen needed more from her.

“Now fuck me like you’re actually good at it,” she snapped, though the order was mostly extinguished from the high-pitched gasp she let out as Galen finally slid her up his length before slamming her back down on his cock.

Since his hands were busy, Maeve lifted her own to her nipples, wiggling her piercings and sending sparks of pleasure through her body. It all coalesced in her center, in the bundle of nerves that wasn’t quite getting what she needed.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that,” she taunted, though the sharpness of her tease was blunted by gritted teeth.

Galen stirred himself in her, holding her against him as he ground up against her.