Page 44 of Interior Design for Demons
I pull the demon mask off my head and let it fall to the floor. Apollyon eyes me sidelong as I unbraid and shake out my hair. Then I slink toward him, raking the straps of my costume off my shoulders. “You said your circumstances had changed. That you’re not sleeping around like you usually do.”
“Sex is in my nature. It’s my job. And it’s not as though I have much choice, half the time,” he says. “My urges—or the directives of my superiors—take over. It is rarely about what I want.”
“So what’s different now?”
“I’m—I’m changing.”
“Changing how?”
“Transforming when I shouldn’t. Losing my edge. For a long time now I have felt myself wavering, disappearing, rotting away a little at a time. I was losing hope until—” He cuts himself off short and darts around me to pour himself more wine.
“Until what?”
“Until a horribly clever and creative little human looked at me like I was the only god she would ever worship.” He says the words with his back to me, his shoulders rigid.
“Are you—are you talking about me? Because sometimes I assume you’re referring to me when you’re not—”
“Yes, I am talking about you,” he snarls.
“Okay then. Well in my defense, I was under your spell when I met you at the gate.”
“You’ve looked at me that way at other times, when no spell or sway was involved.”
My pride bristles, and my blush rises along with it. “Have not.”
“Have too.” He whirls to face me, blue eyes blazing.
“Have. Not.”
Apollyon throws the wine glass against the wall with a smash and splatter. “Have. Too.” He bends down to me, eyes fierce, lips curled back over clenched teeth. His profile nearly brushes mine, and I could swear I hear his heart beating loud, loud, and fast. “You look at me all the time. Why?”
“Because you’re pretty.”
“The other demons are pretty too. Why me? Why am I different?”
“You’re—you’re something—” My lips are moving of their own volition, easing nearer to his.
He nods, desperately triumphant, breath sucking sharp through his teeth. “You’re something too. The only something I can think about, it seems. I have tried not to—I swear by Lucifer I’ve tried to distract myself. The night after I met you, when Ishtar’s ridiculous rules parted us, I fucked five different demons just to get you out of my head.”
“I didn’t want to know that,” I whisper.
“But none since you let me touch you,” he whispers back. “None since I heard the sounds you made and they went straight to my heart.”
My breath snags in my lungs at his admission. Apollyon hasn’t slept with anyone since he pleasured me in the shower.
He sways nearer, a haunted, hunted expression straining his lovely face. He curls his claws gently, very gently, around my upper arms, and I can feel the immense force of him, the ragged lust pouring off him, swirling, centered on me. It’s a heady and thrilling sensation, knowing how much he hungers for me.
“Grace.” He draws out thes, a dragon’s hiss, and he leans down, his nose drifting along my neck as he inhales.
“Stop,” I say, trembling. “Rath will sense what I’m feeling, and he’ll find me—”
“I can shield you from his perception,” Apollyon murmurs, his lips tickling my skin. “There. It’s done. He won’t be able to sense you that way until I let him. Yield to me, Grace, give yourself to me—I want you. I need you. I want that beauty inside you, I want it rushing through my veins—I want your mews of pleasure in my ears, I want your tongue in my mouth.”
“You want to possess me.” I withdraw a little, frowning, thinking of Rath.
“No, by Lucifer,” he breathes. “I wantyouto possessme.”
Looking into his crystal-blue eyes I can almost believe him. I am almost convinced that a demon can speak truth, can feel something genuine and pure.
