Page 58 of Demon with Benefits (Hell Bent #3)

He had no words. He didn’t know words or see the point in them.

But he understood the physical expression.

He drove into her with deeper strokes, watching her eyes fall shut as the pleasure consumed her, and then he bent and fused their lips together.

And when hers parted, he let his tongue slide into her mouth.

He pushed it as deep as it would go, her moans stifled around the pressure in her throat. He took her with his tongue and his cock, in her core and her mouth. He owned her surrender, soaked it up, like it was both the greatest gift and his given right.

When he finally went over the edge, she was right there with him, whispering words of love, telling him to let himself fall because she would always be there to catch him.

They came down from the high, skin slicked with sweat and bodies tangled together.

Meph felt his demon’s satisfaction, and the demon allowed him to draw it back to its cage for the time being.

He shifted to fully human form, pulling out and dropping onto his back beside her, staring at the ceiling with a grin on his face.

“Damn.” Iris’s voice was husky. There was nothing sexier than his woman purring with the satisfaction he’d given her. “That was unexpected. You’ve been holding out on me.”

He turned his head to smile at her. “I’ve been practicing. I didn’t want to try the shift during sex until I knew I wouldn’t lose control. Bit of a vibe killer otherwise.”

She turned her head too, and their gazes met.

They exchanged the secret smiles of familiar lovers, and it was precious in a way he didn’t fully understand.

He would probably spend the next two hundred years learning to define all these new emotions.

It was corny as shit, but he’d never looked forward to the future like he did now.

“Well, I’d say you’ve mastered the art,” Iris said with the sigh of a well-pleased woman. “Hell of a time to spring that on me though. We’re going to be so damn late, Jacqui is going to kill us.”

Meph decided not to tell her that her makeup had smudged. “I got a little excited, and my demon wanted to play.”

Her lips curved. “He’s a good boy.”

“I think you’re confusing him with the dog.”

She chuckled. “You guys have a lot in common, you know. Both training to manage your dark side so you can live on Earth.”

Meph shot her an affronted look. How dare she compare his fearsome demon to a puppy.

“I’m serious! Actually, I find it encouraging. Whenever Faust is driving me nuts, I just think, if I managed to get through to your demon, then I can definitely control a hellhound.”

“Well, I’m glad managing the terror of the underworld has given you a confidence boost with your dog training.” His tone was dry.

She laughed, smoothing a hand down his chest to soothe him. “Poor baby. Don’t worry, you’re still very scary.”

“Damn straight,” he grumbled.

Her conciliatory pets stopped as her palm passed over his abdomen, and her brow furrowed. “I don’t like seeing this empty spot. It reminds me of him.” She was, of course, talking about the regrown patch of skin where Valefor had hacked off his binding tattoo.

“He’s dead.”

“I know. But I hate remembering how he hurt you.”

Meph rolled onto his side to face her. “It doesn’t bother me, but don’t worry. I already booked a session to get it filled in.”

Her eyes lit up. “What are you getting?”

It went without saying he wasn’t going to complete the sigil again. He wouldn’t try to cover up the rest of it either—that sigil was now a memento to all the shit he’d gone through before making peace with his demon.

“Another grim reaper?” Iris guessed when he didn’t answer. “Or another underworld war scene? A dragon? Some kind of nasty bug, like a centipede?”

“Nope.”

Her face scrunched up. “Is it something really brutal then? A disemboweled guy? A mummy cradling its own head? Belial finding a mess in his kitchen?”

He barked a laugh. “You’re brilliant. That’s horrific. But no, none of that. I was actually thinking... butterflies.”

A full five seconds passed in silence. “Butterflies.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re serious.”

It took everything he had to keep a straight face. “Yeah. Why not?”

She looked down at his abs as if trying to visualize the tattoo. “I mean...”

He took pity on her. “Well, it’ll be butterflies flying out of the empty eye sockets of a demon skull.”

“Ohhh.” She sounded relieved. “Okay, that sounds cool.”

He laughed. “You think I was gonna get some cute girly butterflies right next to the zombie wasteland on my ribs?”

“You had me worried for a second there, you arse.” She smiled and smacked him lightly on the pec. “But why butterflies? Even if they are coming out of a scary skull.”

“’Cause...” He squirmed a little. “They remind me of you. And the skull is kinda gonna be a tribute to my demon. So it’ll be like... me and you. Where the binding sigil was broken.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It seemed fitting, I guess.”

“Meph.” Her eyes were suddenly teary. “That’s so sweet. I can’t wait to see it.”

His face felt hot. Damn, he was a total goner for her.

He brushed his knuckles across her soft cheek. “Don’t cry or you’ll mess up your makeup.” More than it already was.

“I meant what I said before.” Her smile had fallen, but it was only to impart the weight of her words. “I love you. Both of you.”

He wanted to brush her off, to tell her she was crazy for claiming to love the deranged fucker that was his demon form. He battled the urge to look away, to dispel the emotion with some dumbass crack.

The vulnerability of open intimacy like this still made him nervous, but he fought the urge to shy away. Iris had earned the right to see that side of him.

So he swallowed back his fear, looked into her eyes, and said, “I love you too, sugar lips.”

Okay, so he hadn’t totally circumvented the urge to be an idiot. Some habits were too stubborn to die.

She snorted, and he realized he was never not going to enjoy making her laugh. “Okay, honey pie.” She sat up with a jerk. “Now, let’s get this show on the road. We’ve got an art opening to crash.”

Fixing her dress and retrieving her underwear, she went to get her mascara brush, which had indeed been left on the dresser. She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror and gasped at the makeup smudged below her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me I looked like a zombie?” She ran to the bathroom in a panic, and Meph stretched out his arms, making no attempt to get up. He had a couple extra minutes to revel in post-orgasmic bliss now that Iris was back with the makeup routine.

He smiled. Life was good.