Page 52 of Lustling

He chuckles darkly. “That so?”

“That’s why you stabbed me in the first place, isn’t it?” I smirk. “To let out the demon and transform me. Make me yours.”

His grip tightens for a heartbeat, then he lifts me effortlessly. My legs wrap around his waist as he lowers me onto his cock. A sharp moan tears from my throat, fingers digging into his shoulders. The air warps, thick with heat, magic, and tension.

Deimos glances at his brothers. “Get out.”

Bastion scoffs. “Not even gonna share?”

“Not this time.”

Bastion grumbles but grins, shaking his head as he leaves, Cassiel following.

And then it’s just us.

TWENTY-SIX

The door slams shut behind them. The echo fades, and finally, it’s just us. The room is a wreck of blood, shadows, and heat. She’s still pinned against the wall, my cock buried deep inside her, her legs wrapped tight around me like she’s never going to let go.

I should stop. I should shove her away. This bond—this cursed, living thing between us—I should fight it. I don’t belong to her. I don’t belong to anyone.

But fuck, I want her. Crave her. And if I can’t get rid of her, I’m going to take from her until she’s shaking.

So I do.

I roll my hips, slow at first, dragging a strangled moan from her throat. Her nails bite into my back, leaving welts of fire. My hands tighten around her waist, fingers digging into her skin as I thrust deeper, deliberate, stretching her around me until she trembles.

I want her to feel every inch of me. I want to ruin her. And I hate that I want it.

“You think you own me?” I growl against her throat, teeth grazing her skin, tasting the pulse there, ready to bite.

She laughs breathlessly, arching into me. “Yes,” she purrs, dark and sure. “You’re stuck with me now.”

I snarl and pull back only to slam into her harder, sharper. She gasps, clings to me, but her grin doesn’t fade.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” I bite out, driving into her ruthlessly. She moans, meeting every thrust, fingers sliding into my hair, tugging until my scalp burns.

“You don’t?” she taunts, voice thick with pleasure.

I slow my pace, grinding into her just to watch her squirm, to make her tremble and hiss my name. “No,” I rasp. “No one owns me.”

The bond pulses inside me—tight, hot, alive. It wraps around my ribs like a vice, squeezing tighter with every movement, every breath. She’s in my blood. In my breath.

Then she tilts her head, eyes black with mischief. “Then I guess I can go and fuck whoever I want too.”

I still instantly. A slow, smug smirk spreads across her lips. And just like that, the bond snaps tight, a whip-crack inside my skull. Something dark, primal, feral surges through me.

Jealousy. Ugly, brutal, all-consuming. The kind that eats your mind and snarls in your chest like a rabid thing. My grip on her tightens until she gasps. My thrusts turn savage, possessive, every stroke a warning.

She laughs again, breathless, moaning, teasing. “You don’t like that, do you?” she whispers, taunting me even as she writhes in pleasure beneath me. “Say it. Say I’m yours, Deimos.”

She doesn’t beg. Doesn’t plead. She commands.

And for Hell’s sake, I want to say it. My teeth clench. “You’re mine.”

She grinds against me, rolling her hips, dragging a groan from my throat. “Say it again,” she breathes.

I slam into her, hard enough to knock the air from her chest. “You’re mine,” I growl, rough, desperate, more confession than threat.