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But she gave this to him and, if she was being honest, to herself.

This simple physical touch was more nourishing than what she had tried to gather for herself in her feeding frenzy. She was so fucked.

She wanted more. To fill herself up on him.

But she wouldn’t be the one to ask.

She was Rowan Dahl, and she didn’t beg.

“The smell is getting to me.” She whispered when she reached her limit.

“Me too.” He said, but instead of moving, he hugged her tighter.

She couldn’t help it. She laughed and pushed at his chest. “Are you going to help me or not?”

He helped her to sit on the edge of the tub as it filled with near boiling water, just how she liked it. He made to clean the worst of the vomit off with a warm soapy towel, but Rowan insisted she be the one to do that. Once she handed it back, she had expected to be given a new washcloth and left to her own devices, but as soon as he began shedding his clothes, she knew she was going to have company.

A mixture of panic and thrill made her forget how to breathe when he grabbed the edge of his sweatshirt and pulled it off in one smooth movement. His curls bounced back into place before he summoned a pin to pull it all back. She preferred it down, and wild, but with it pulled up, the definition of his jawline and the bulging of his upper traps more than made up for it. She didn’t know whether it was a disappointment or a relief when he moved to grab a container of bath salt to pour it into the stream from the tap.

She sank into the water, realizing just how large the tub was as it covered everything up to her shoulders. Relief from the salts washed over her and she watched sleepily as he reached up to remove the shower head from its holder.

It was an insane mixture of intimacy and a lesson in humility as he washed her hair. His fingertips left behind the sense of thousands of butterflies resting along her scalp.

“You’re good at this.” She sighed as he worked.

His hands paused.

“Keep going.” She pleaded, and his thumbs rubbed the back of her ears.

Instant desire rushed through her at the simple touch. She felt her nipples harden so much they throbbed. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her breathing shallowed out as his touch lowered to lather her neck, then shoulders.

She needed to get her head out of the gutter immediately. In her mind, she began reciting company policies Kin had once forced her to write out again as punishment for taking over 45 IOUs in one month during their first year working together.

But then Alessandro’s hands were on her back and she was so stunned by the amount of pleasure wrought on at the base of her wings that a moan ripped out of her.

His movements completely stopped, and she tried to calm herself down in the small eternity of silence.

“Your wings are like ours.” He whispered. “I should’ve known it would be an erogenous zone.”

Her mind was racing with only one thought.

Take. Take. Take.

It was a voice she didn’t recognize, yet had known her whole life lurked within her.

Her succubus was awake. Yet, her body was in no state to take care of the feverish need building to heights she’d never reached before.

The contradictory nature of her situation made her feel as if she was being pulled apart in two different directions. Her vision blurred for a heartbeat before it was suddenly a mixture of reds and purples accompanied by the most delectable scent of heated honey from behind her.

She tilted her head back and licked her lips when she found the source. At the base of Alessandro’s neck, a bright blade of white light called her name.

Against her tongue, she found her canines were suddenly sharp and growing. Her heartbeat raced as she turned to face him. If she just bit there, she knew it would bring him the greatest pleasure and give her some semblance of peace.

She entwined her fingers into his curls, pulled back with a slight tug to expose the entirety of his neck.

“Rowan. Stop.” His hand was on hers, attempting to halt her. But his voice was full of husky desperation.

“This is what you want.” She heard herself speak. But it wasn’t her as much as the demonic part of her that only had one purpose; eat, by any means necessary.