Page 58 of Demon's Bride

Who would have thought breakfast could be so erotic?

I don’t have much time to contemplate that, however, before the sharp, sweet burst of the hearthberry jam on my tongue makes my eyes widen. A small noise of pleasure breaks in the back of my throat as I chew and swallow.

“That was delicious!”

My demon looks pleased enough with himself that I want to lean over and kiss that satisfied smirk off his lips. I do just that, and we spend the next half-hour trading kisses and bites, making our way leisurely through our meal.

Still, the touches never turn more than playful. The kisses stay teasing and light. Even when I move to press myself closer, kiss deeper, Eren finds ways to dodge around me, keep plying me with delicious bites of food, hold us both on a tight leash.

It’s more than a little frustrating, but not surprising considering our conversation last night. Instead of letting myself get irritated or giving the space for any old, insecure thoughts to creep in, I rein myself in and let him lead. Enjoying the food and the light banter of conversation, I tell him a little about my life in the mundane world—my job, my apartment, all the friends I made outside the coven. He responds in kind, telling me a bit more about the court and the lay of the demon realm.

When I can’t eat another bite, I sprawl back in the grass and rest my hands over my satisfied belly.

“If that’s what every meal in this realm is like, I’m going to be a happy, happy woman,” I murmur, smiling up at an ever-so-pleased demon.

“I live to serve, my queen,” he teases, leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose before going to work putting all the supplies and uneaten food back into the basket.

With everything put away, Eren leans his back against the rock and grabs my hand. When he tugs gently, I sit up and climb over one of his thick thighs to settle between his legs, leaning into the firm wall of his chest. Eren makes a contented sound as I get myself comfortable, a faint purr kicking up immediately.

I tip my head back into that purr, closing my eyes and basking in the morning sun. A wave of warmth moves through me, all the way from where Eren presses a kiss to my top of my head, down to the arm he winds around my waist, and further still, filling me with contentment to the very tips of my toes.

We stay like that for a few long minutes, breathing in the fresh air and lungfuls of each other.

My mind is drifting, thinking about this place and the beauty of it, what Eren said before about it being a part of his childhood.

“You mentioned coming here with your family?”

“Yes,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate.

Something about the reluctance in his answer has me cracking my eyes open and glancing back over my shoulder at him.

I want to ask more, know more about him and his family and what his life was like in the demon realm before I got here, but I don’t know how much I should push. Since he’s king, it would stand to reason that his father, at least, is probably gone, but what that means for his mother or any other family… I don’t know if he’s anywhere near ready to share that with me.

Eren, though, surprises me by speaking again.

“My parents are no longer living,” he says. “My mother died first, in childbirth eighteen years ago. The baby, too. My father followed them only a couple of years later.”

“Eren,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

He gives me a small smile. “I would say it’s alright, that it’s in the past, but most days it doesn’t feel like it is. I still miss them both terribly.”

“I’m sure you do.” I say, squeezing his hands in mine.

“There are many happy memories, of course,” he continues. “Like the days I spent with them here. But also many that I find difficult to remember. My father… he was like a shadow of himself after my mother died. They were mates, and losing her was losing half of himself, with the loss of their child making it all so much worse.”

Eren pauses, swallows thickly, and I stay silent until he’s ready to continue speaking. All around us, the day presses in gently. No trace of bitter magick on the air here, nothing but the peace of the breeze and the warm kiss of sun on our skin.

“I felt very much alone before you arrived,” he says quietly.

His honesty reaches down and tugs at something near the center of my chest.

“What about your friends?” I ask. “Your court?”

He shrugs, the movement of it shifting my body against his. “Things changed when I became king. I had to grow up rather quickly, quit my carousing and act like the respectable creature I was meant to be.”

I have to smile at that, wondering what kind of hellion he’d been in his youth if he now qualifies as ‘respectable.’

Like he can sense my wry disbelief, Eren leans down and chuckles into my ear. “Believe it or not, witch, but I was positively feral as a young demon. With a rowdy group of friends to match.”

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