Page 74 of Let The Devil In

Despite the seriousness of his growl, I giggle. “Is that why you made my boys?”

“Even a demiurge needs occasional breaks,” he grumbles, still grinning. “But I made them so I can watch you get used. Watch them hold you down and do unthinkable things to you until you’re weeping and begging them to stop.”

“Vaelith...”

I think I’m asking him to stop, but the shaky plea makes me think otherwise.

“We don’t have time, my little queen. I have never been quick when I torture your body and I won’t start now. Unless,” he twists our joined hands and hooks both behind my back. I’m bowed into his front. “You wish to forgo this idea and submit to me.”

I’m struggling to control my breathing while walking on trembling legs. I barely have the thought process when I answer.

“Show me first. We have forever after, don’t we?”

“Longer, Rina. We have until the sun collapses into the void and the earth crumbles.”

I smile up into his face. “Then you can wait a little longer to hear me beg.”

His teeth bare in a low snarl, but he continues on with me at his side.

“Vaelith?”

“Yes, my love?”

My lips quirk at how familiar that sounds. “Where are my boys?”

“Handling matters. They will be with you when I cannot, but will resume their duties when they are not needed.”

My next words have me hesitating a heartbeat. “I love them.”

I’m unclear why I need him to be aware of this fact, but I guess it’s better he knows now and accepts it then finding out later and getting upset.

Vaelith tips his head in my direction. “I would hope so. They are parts of me.”

“Why three?” I blurt.

He chuckles. “You have three holes.”

I faceplant into my palm. “Oh geez.”

His laugh deepens until it fills the forest. It rings with such deep, masculine amusement my core throbs.

Great, even his laugh gets me hot. No wonder he needed to slice pieces of his soul to make me my own harem. I could climb this man like a tree — no pun intended — all day.

We arrive at a clearing and the creature waiting at the center. A beautiful and frightening beast as tall as a lamppost and as long as a bus.

I think he’s a dog, but has the face of a regel cat and the body of a wolf. He could be a lion, but the antlers and the paws with human fingers make me think otherwise. Even his eyes are eerily human and watchful as he takes me in with a solemn wisdom I would never expect of a creature strapped to a saddle.

“Hello, Searon,” I murmur, his name on my tongue before my brain can process the information.

His feline ears twitch once in time with his slow, deliberate blink. Then, to my surprise, he inclines his head.

“Your Majesty. Welcome home.”

With the tenderness one would show something profoundly delicate, Vaelith captures my waist from behind and sets me on Searon’s back. It’s in a side saddle fashion that feels tenuous when I have nothing to hold, but Vaelith swings up behind me and pulls me tight up against him. Tucked between the hard cords of his thighs, beneath the warm folds of his cloak, I’ve never felt safer.

Searon doesn’t ask for instructions, nor does Vaelith give any as he gathers up the reins. He sets off in a gallop through the canopy of endless wilderness.

Vaelith loops an arm across my middle the equivalent of a whole tree trunk and holds me to him.