When the thick head of him brushed past my clit, a jolt of electricity shot through me, and I gasped against his lips, my fingers clutching at his shoulders.

His eager movement sent the bathwater surging over the rim in a great wave, splashing onto the tiled floor with an unholy slosh .

There was a beat of silence, followed by a rustle of sheets and the creak of the door.

BooDini, for propriety’s sake, remained on the other side of the door—except for one balled-up sheet-fist, which shook violently at us before waving in what I could only assume was an exasperated scolding.

Before I could even sputter out an explanation, the bathwater vanished, leaving us completely dry. For good measure, BooDini wrapped towels snugly around each of us with offended efficiency before retreating, the door snapping shut behind it.

Devlin and I, still entangled in the most erotic position I’d ever found myself in—if you discounted the sudden presence of towels—locked eyes.

And then we dissolved into laughter. Deep, uncontrollable, breathless laughter.

Each belly-shaking vibration from Devlin sent a ripple of heat and want flooding through me.

Finally, still chuckling, Devlin let go of my leg, his touch lingering as he pulled himself away.

Without a word, he stepped out of the bath, the last of the water droplets sliding down his sculpted chest, his skin flushed from the heat.

Then he turned, offering me his hand. The second my fingers laced with his, I was weightless—lifted effortlessly into his arms.

Yeah, being carried by Devlin was now my favorite mode of transport.

I giggled, breathless as he carried me out of the bathroom, the hard press of his body against mine making my skin thrum as he made his way to my room.

Then his steps faltered. His eyes widened slightly as he took in our surroundings.

And that was when I realized—this was the first time Devlin had ever seen the inside of my childhood bedroom.

“You never told me you had a library in here,” Devlin mused, his eyes flicking over the towering bookshelf.

With a playful grin, he set me down in front of the shelves, keeping his hands on my waist for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Though I suppose it makes sense that a writer would be an avid reader too.”

“My parents owned a bookshop back in my coven,” I said, brushing my fingers over the worn spines.

To my surprise, for the first time in almost a decade, the words didn’t carve a sharp, aching hole in my chest. Instead, the memory settled over me like a faded warmth, familiar but not unbearable.

“I loved to read. And I’d always dreamed of taking over their shop when they retired—spending my days surrounded by my favorite books while writing my own. ”

Devlin let out a dreamy sigh. “That sounds like the perfect life.”

I smirked. “You dream of owning a bookshop too?” The idea of sharing something so personal with him felt strangely intimate.

Devlin cast me a sidelong glance. “I guess I never really thought about it before. My focus was always on... surviving day to day.”

Something about the way he said it sent a prickle through my skin. I knew what he meant. He resented being an incubus—being forced to feed just to stay alive. Imagining an ideal life, one where he had his mate and no longer had to hunt to survive, would only deepen that resentment.

“But I have always loved to read,” he added. “Romance, in particular. Especially if it’s spicy.”

“Then you’re going to love my forbidden shelf.” I crouched down, shifting a pile of stray papers and forgotten trinkets aside to reveal my secret collection.

Devlin’s eyes widened as he scanned the titles, a slow, wicked grin creeping across his lips. He plucked one from the shelf, flipping through the pages with an amused hum.

“Ms. Myers,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, sinful purr. “There are titles on here that would make even an incubus demon blush.”

Heat flared across my skin as his hand pressed against the small of my back, his body aligning flush against mine. His free hand tilted my chin up, his gaze dark and dangerous.

“Tell me, little witch,” he drawled, his lips hovering just above mine, “exactly how spicy do you like it in real life?”

You need to tell him you’re a virgin, Jen.

As much as I desperately wanted to let him do every filthy, sinful thing he could imagine to me, gentle was probably advisable for my first time. I swallowed hard. “Um... here’s the thing, Devlin.”

His brow furrowed slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes as I sucked in a breath, my pulse hammering.

“So... I’ve never actually had sex before.”

Devlin went completely still. The only movement was his eyes—wide, almost panicked, flicking over my face like he was searching for some kind of misinterpretation.

When he didn’t immediately respond, the verbal vomit started in full force.

“I mean, I was kind of saving myself for my mate... and then, you know, prison happened. And I guess I could have had sex in there if I really wanted to, but I’m not into women like that.

And then I got out, met you, and you were my first kiss.

” His eyes widened even more. Shit . Shit.

Shit. Why did I say that? But my mouth just kept going.

“And I should have told you, but things just kind of happened. I wasn’t planning on having a physical relationship with anyone, but it just felt right with you.

And I totally understand if you want to stop now—”

“Jen,” he said, his voice soft.

“—Because, like, you’ll probably want to be with someone a bit more experienced. And I’m sorry. I should have mentioned it earlier, but... And I haven’t taken the potion—”

“Jennifer.” His voice carried just enough authority to finally stop my rambling. Warm fingers cupped my cheek, his thumb circling my skin as he exhaled a slow breath. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, Devlin.”

“Do you want your first time to be with me?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Four days ago, if someone had asked me whether I’d ever consider being with anyone other than my fated mate, my answer would have been an unequivocal no .

But this felt different. He felt different.

Devlin wasn’t some abstract future. He was here.

Now. And being with him felt right in a way I couldn’t even begin to explain.

I nodded. “Yes, Devlin. I want it to be with you.”

His gaze locked onto mine, as if he was checking for any hint that Lobato’s magic had broken, that I wasn’t offering myself of my own volition but instead had somehow become enthralled by his incubus touch.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in the softest, most reverent kiss imaginable.

“I’ll be gentle, my little witch,” Devlin murmured, his lips trailing from mine to press a delicate kiss to the tip of my nose. In barely a whisper, he added, “ I’ve taken the potion. ”

Then his lips were back on mine, stealing my breath, stealing my thoughts.

In one fluid motion, he scooped me into his arms, never once breaking the kiss as he carried me across the room.

The moment my back met the bed, his fingers found the knot of my towel, undoing it with effortless ease.

The fabric parted, slipping away as he laid me gently against the sheets.

Devlin knelt between my legs, his eyes drinking me in like I was something sacred .

Heat coiled low in my stomach, desire thrumming through my veins as I reached between us, my fingers grazing the edge of his towel. But before I could slip it away, his hand wrapped around my wrist. Slowly, he lifted my arms above my head, pressing them to the headboard.

“Not yet, my little witch,” he murmured, his voice like silk and embers. His thumb brushed over my pulse point, feeling the rapid beat beneath my skin. “I want you ready for our first time.”

His lips found mine again, his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth, coaxing me open.

I yielded completely, surrendering to his touch, offering him the first piece of everything I longed to share tonight.

His chest pressed against mine, the warmth of his skin melting into me, and for a fleeting, breathless moment, I could have sworn our hearts beat as one.

When Devlin finally pulled away, he didn’t move far.

He rested his forehead against mine, our breath mingling, leaving me dizzy, weightless, and completely lost in him.

Devlin’s lips trailed along my jawline, slow and deliberate, each kiss igniting a fresh spark beneath my skin.

His breath was warm as he moved lower, peppering kisses down my neck, lingering over the sensitive spot where my pulse thrummed wildly.

I shivered beneath him, arching instinctively as his mouth traced the delicate slope of my collarbone. His grip on my wrists softened, his fingers featherlight as they drifted down my arms.

A sigh slipped from me as his mouth pressed over my heart, his lips lingering for a long moment before he moved lower, pressing kisses against my breasts, my ribs, my stomach, until the softest whisper of a kiss found the skin just below my navel.

Then his head dipped between my legs.

The first slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue sent a sharp jolt of pleasure rippling through me, my thighs instinctively tightening around him. His tongue was hot and silken, stroking through my slick folds with agonizing patience.

A deep, guttural moan rumbled from his chest as he pressed deeper, the vibration sending little shockwaves through my core. His tongue lapped against me in long, languid strokes, teasing, tasting, devouring .

Then, with a wicked, hungry hum, he pushed inside me.

Not like last night. Last night, he’d been so consumed with his lust that he’d wanted to explore all of me in one go, claiming each part of me again and again.