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“You’d like that, huh?” Melchom smirked. “You’d love to have someone who understood all of you, because not even you understand yourself. Is that it?”

There was no verbal response, but his gift flinched, eyes flickering to the side.

“Even if it’s a demon you’re selling yourself to for some petty revenge,” he added.

That was what made Dove’s breath shorten, his body curl in on himself. Melchom licked his lips, feeling the scents traveling through his body, filling him with the most exquisite fire.

“I need clothes. Please.”

The human’s chin wobbled. Something about it made Melchom pause and wonder how much he could push with their deal in place before the human broke. It would be a pity if that happened too soon.

It was a heady sensation. Melchom didn’t remember the last time he’d had such a feast. He’d definitely never had to face doubts regarding his feast’s wellbeing.

“What do you want?” he heard himself asking.

The human gasped. “For real?”

Melchom grunted. He’d have to come up with a plan to remind Dove of his place. “Do you want me to change my mind?”

Dove kicked around in the barrel, daring to edge closer to his side. The poor boy didn’t seem to learn, but Melchom couldn’t say he wasn’t enthralled by the way the dripping ends of his curls stuck to his face.

He looked sweet, but not in a completely naive way. No, it was in a way that was begging for Melchom to pervert him.

“No. No, I don’t, I mean…”

The human lost his trail of thought. Melchom peered in to see at least a dozen mirrors reflecting images of the human in different attires. Some of them were skirts and dresses, a few crop tops with shorts or leggings… Melchom was more interested in the couple of mirrors that flickered for the shortest time and showed the human dressed up in the most exquisite of lingerie sets. He was sure those weren’t real memories, but it didn’t matter.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“I… Can’t I just have my closet?”

“Start smaller.” It was both a teasing and a warning, and Melchom was sure the human got the message.

“Can I… Can I send images to your head of the stuff I want? Kind of like all of you talk to me in my head?”

Huh.

No human had ever asked him that. He hadn’t seen it done, either. Melchom shifted closer, squatting down so his face was mere inches from the human’s, arms on the edge of the tub for the sake of making him more nervous.

“No one’s ever managed in all of history,” Melchom said. He was going to leave it there, but something compelled him to touch, to tuck his index finger beneath the human’s chin and hold him as he shuddered. “What do you want me to see so badly?”

“I don’t know. I mean, what do you even know about fashion?” His Dove paled as the words left his mouth. “No offense.”

Melchom snorted. It was a fair question, anyway. Most demons only wore fabric as a way to cover their groins unless they were readying for battle, wanted to do business on Earth, or for any other reason that involved other creatures.

“I think you’ve appreciated my fashion choices just fine since you arrived here.”

The poor human couldn’t rebuke him, blushing to the tip of his ears. He did throw some sudsy water at him.

“You have nerve,” Melchom murmured, droplets of water dribbling down his chin to the floor. The only reason he wasn’t unleashing every nightmare the human had of Hell upon him was that none of the suds touched his eyes. “Go to the main room, and I’ll go get you something.”

It would be game on from the moment he got back, but Melchom kept that piece of knowledge to himself. He was already planning which of those exquisite sets of lingerie to get him, and how to show them to him before he’d left the confined space.

“By the way,” he remembered to add, “don’t even think of leaving, or trying any more of my jewels.”

“O-okay.”

Good.