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“You consented to being mine. I won’t live apart from my mate.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I realize that you’re used to living close to your family, but they’re not exactly hours away from here. They’re welcome to visit you any time.”

Her brow flicked up. “Imps are welcome here? Really?”

“If they mean something to you, yes. Just make them vow not to steal anything. I’d prefer not to have to separate them from their fingers and toes.”

Leaning back, she stared at him. “I can’t quite tell if you’re being serious about the latter.”

Luka pulled her flush against him. “I know this is a big step, and you may feel that things are moving very fast. But I’m asking you to do it anyway. I want you here with me, where you belong.” He swept a hand down her spine. “As a bonus, you’ll be safer here than at your own house.”

“First you want me to consent to having a permanent bodyguard, and now you want me to agree to move into your home.” She sniffed, haughty. “Anything else you want from me?”

“Not at the moment. But give it time.”

She snorted, her lips curling, and then nipped the tip of his ear—and not at all gently.

He rubbed at the small hurt, cursing in Russian.

“That’s what you get,” Naomi said with a prim little sniff.

She cocked her head. “I’ve noticed that you speak Russian sometimes, though mostly only to curse or to whisper stuff when we’re doing the dirty.

Are you fluent in it because your parents spoke the language around you or because you once lived in Russia? ”

Many times he’d been asked that question. Few times had he answered it, and never with women who shared his bed—his defenses had risen up in reflex and slammed up a mental wall. That didn’t happen with Naomi; she wasn’t just anyone to him.

“I was born there,” he replied. “I spent some of my childhood there.”

She idly dragged her fingertips along his nape. “Why did your parents relocate?”

“Ugly intra-lair problems eventually resulted in it dividing three ways. That wasn’t enough to bring an end to those issues.

The three lairs would cross each other in various ways, resulting in multiple deaths.

My uncle had moved here years before; he invited my parents and some others to join the lair he’d integrated into.

They accepted the invitation but soon after started their own lair, with my father as Prime—and crime boss. ”

She tilted her head. “How old are you?”

His lips quirking, he flicked her nose with his. “Much, much older than you.”

“So I have a sugar daddy,” she teased. “Never had one of those before. It’s working out okay so far.”

“Glad to hear you feel that way.”

“Where are your parents now?”

“Somewhere,” he prevaricated. “A crime boss doesn’t get to leave this life unless he’s prepared to go where he’ll never be found. It’s commonly done. They wanted out; said their time was over. They took my younger sister with them so that no one could use her to flush my father out.”

Naomi frowned. “But not you?” she asked, a note of protective outrage in her voice that melted something in him.

“I was his heir. Which wasn’t enough to guarantee that his role would become mine, of course. I was groomed from an early age to take over.”

“No one tried using you to lure your father out of hiding?”

“It was attempted only once. The consequences convinced others to let it be. Most demonic crime bosses don’t really want to drag retirees out into the open, because they plan to retire in the same fashion one day.”

“Do you like being a crime boss?”

“Yes. It gives me and my entities what we need. All demons crave power, control, respect, and authority. The cravings are much worse for legions. Those things don’t merely satisfy us, they play a part in stabilizing us.

” He trailed a fingertip down her throat.

“Your own demon doesn’t seem to yearn for those things, if your lifestyle is anything to go by. ”

“Being a siren comes with personal power,” she pointed out. “Both me and my demon can control a person’s actions with words alone; make them do whatever we want; render them at our mercy that easily.”

“Knowing you have that ability over everyone you meet, should you care to use it, is enough to give your entity a sense of power and control?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t get the same satisfaction from it as your demon,” he stated.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “What makes you think that?”

“You’re not a person who seeks to control others. It may comfort you to know that you can use such a gift in your own defense, but you wouldn’t get pleasure from it.”

“You say that with certainty.”

“If I was wrong, you’d be stealing people’s wills all the time to get whatever you want out of life. You don’t do that. Nor do you battle for control in or out of bed. It just isn’t something that feeds any part of you.”

Naomi stared at him, thinking he knew her too well; realizing that she no longer felt uncomfortable with it.

Nothing inside her tensed or bristled, and she felt no reflexive urge to pull inward.

They were past that now. He’d accepted all she’d hid from him, and that meant everything to not only her but her entity.

“Whereas you very much like to control those around you.”

“I do.” An easy, unapologetic agreement.

“You like to see them bend to your will.”

He kissed his way down her throat. “Bend. Crumble. Break.” He nipped her pulse. “I like it when you shatter for me.”

“I like it when you make me shatter. You’re rather good at it, as I’m sure you’re well aware. All the ladies in your past no doubt made it clear.” Hoes.

Okay, so that was harsh—they were probably lovely. It was just hard to think of them in a positive light when they’d touched her mate. Her entity would happily set them on fire.

“You said that your demons made relationships difficult, so flings are just easier,” she recalled. “Have you ever been in a real relationship?”

Another nip to her pulse. “No.”

“So you never came close to taking a mate?”

He met her gaze again. “There was a time when my father wanted me to take another crime boss’s daughter as my mate. Since I couldn’t imagine ever really committing to someone in a meaningful way, I contemplated it and agreed to meet with her. Things never went further than that, though.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t like her. Neither did Abraxas. Dagon found her incredibly boring. Belial had no interest in her, and was very put off by sensing she had a masochistic streak.”

Naomi felt her brows draw together. “But . . . Belial is sadistic.”

“Too sadistic to find satisfaction in doling out pain to those who’d enjoy it.”

“Oh,” she breathed. It was only then that she realized . . . “It leaves all these injury-themed brands on me because it knows that I find it annoying.”

His lips twitched. “Any kind of suffering feeds it—even emotional suffering. But it doesn’t want to see you hurt or angry. It’ll settle for irritation.”

“I should really just kick it or something.”

Luka’s smile hitched up a notch. “Now you’re just amusing it.”

Hmm, no doubt.

“You didn’t agree to my request before,” he noted, his gaze snaring hers.

“Move in with me,” he urged in a whisper that was somehow both coaxing and forceful.

“We could live in your house if it’s what you really want, but as I said before, you’ll be safer here.

I’d prefer that we make this our home. Or we could find somewhere else; choose a place that is equally secure—whatever you want.

The important thing to me is that we don’t live apart. ”

She wasn’t particularly attached to her house, only her workroom. But this room . . . yes, she could see herself setting up a workspace here. Could see herself living in this house, where she knew he’d be safest.

As Tobe liked to point out, Luka had many enemies. Her home was nowhere near as secure as this place. The harder it was for anyone to get to him, the better. Her safety was his priority, and that went both ways.

So she let her lips curve as she murmured, “Okay, I’ll move in here.”

Satisfaction lit his eyes, and his own mouth winged up. “Just what I wanted to hear.”