Page 79 of A Summoned Husband

If only I could sleep forever.

* * *

“I feel you’re entirely too fragile to survive me.” A whisper reached into the dark I had curled myself up in and blew into my ear. It was wind. Words that blew past me I almost didn’t catch as sleep dampened everything.

His voice belonged in my dreams. It was the dark timbre of sinful thoughts I would never dare to believe would ever stand in front of me. Carried from lips that grinned in a way that made me forget what he was and what being with him would mean to the Christian girl I outgrew. The one I kept inside me somewhere, in a dusty box I knew I would never open again no matter how much my Gran and Abuela would love it if I did.

“This will kill us both,” he whispered.

A gentle caress tickled the flesh of my brow, but I kept my eyes closed, wanting to hear more.

“I wanted to despise you. I wanted to want for nothing more than to have that key ripped from your chest regardless of the consequences but somehow, you’ve become both my curse and my blessing. My damnation and my salvation. I ache for you in places I wished I would never discover.”

My cheek pressed against the warmth of him as his arms clutched me closer. Even in sleep, I knew the strength of his embrace. The Eden I was before four — or five or six —glasses of wine would laugh at me now. Lying in the arms of a man in the dark as I hoped he would confess something to me that I never wanted.

In the dark, it was safe to let myself want for things. With my eyes closed, it was like a game of pretend that stopped the moment they opened but as long as they were closed, I could be the Eden who wanted a love confession from a demon and he could be the man who would give it to me.

“This is as close to love as I will ever know.”

My eyes burned at his words. They were words that meant nothing. Words that didn’t belong to me — not really. They were just words that followed around the key that was forced into my chest without my permission. That was what I was going to tell myself.

“A mortal woman too foolish to tell me she is hurt.” He chuckled lightly, but the sound was void of any humour. “Your emotions exhaust me.”

What a funny thing to know. I often felt my emotions exhausted me too. Trapped inside a chest that only let half of them seep out. I wasn’t allowed to let them all out at once. I was burdened with them, and to let too much out would be to let a happiness in that wasn’t mine anymore.

Or so I told myself.

Maybe I was just as foolish as he accused me of being. I certainly felt like it most of the time.

“Sleep, Eden,” Asmodeus cooed. “My wife.”

* * *

My cheek was warm. It made me hum as it soothed my skin. My arms stretched up over my head and my toes pointed and flexed until every muscle felt pulled just the right amount. A sigh inflated my chest as I pushed up and rubbed my hands over my eyes.

Sun peered in through my windows, the rays just reaching my bed where my face rested against the pillows.

The duvet was just around my middle, my toes free, as I sat up and looked around the room.

I don’t know if I ever felt so rested. The kink in my neck was gone and so was that whine in my lower back that nagged me around the clock since I turned thirty-three. The smile on my lips came easily as I linked my fingers and stretched them out in front of me.

Wow, I felt good.

This was a feeling no one could buy. A few things came dangerously close. Sleeping in until your body told you it was time to get up when you had no responsibilities the next day. Walking in sand that wasn’t too hot with the warmth of the sun at your back just right. The way it rarely was. Hot enough to cut past the skin and kiss the muscles but not so hot as to cook you on the way. Really good sex. I mean, the kind of sex that makes you pass out after and forget your own name. The kind of sex that will have you waking up the next day without a care in the world.

I’ve only had sex that good — oh wait, never.

It was a myth. Something people lied about so we would keep trying to obtain it and not spend hours in bed giving ourselves carpal tunnel. Because… mama knew how to work all the curves and corners and I didn’t need no help to do it.

My head tilted to the side, hair curtaining over my shoulders as I tried to figure out what the hell had me feeling so damn good.

A gasp left me as I leapt from bed and looked around my empty room.

I had fought a witch last night. Well, not really. I had been attacked. I wasn’t proud of the way I went at it, because honestly, I had only lost one fight my whole life and it was one I set myself up to lose. I just sat there.

A frustrated grunt bubbled up my throat as I got to my feet and shoved them into my slippers.

What a bitch! She just came in there and used all her magic and stuff when I didn’t have any. It was underhanded. It was trifling. It was… exactly what I would have done in her shoes. Fuck, who was I to judge? I didn’t really fight fair either. I fought to win… not for dignity or honour or any of that shit.