Page 20 of Summoning Mr. Wrong
“You dream?”
“Sometimes.” His voice was soft in the darkness. “Often of things I’ve seen. Places I’ve been. Occasionally… of things I want.”
I wanted to ask what a demon could possibly want that he didn’t already have, but sleep was pulling me under, helped along by his rhythmic stroking of my hair.
The last thing I remembered before drifting off was the press of his lips against my forehead, and words spoken so softly I wasn’t sure if I’d dreamed them:
“Sleep well, my unexpected human.”
Chapter 13
I woke hours later to the feeling of heat—not uncomfortable, but intense, like lying next to a banked fire. Deus was still beside me, but now his arm was draped over my waist, his face pressed against the back of my neck. He was radiating warmth even more than usual.
I shifted slightly, and his arm tightened around me. “Sorry,” he murmured against my skin. “Did I wake you?”
“You’re really hot,” I said, then clarified, “Temperature-wise, I mean.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against my back. “Side effect of being in this realm too long without… release.”
“Release?” I turned to face him, now fully awake. “What kind of release?”
In the dim light filtering through my curtains, I could see his eyes glowing brighter than normal, the amber almost golden. The tattoos on his chest and arms were moving more rapidly than usual, swirling patterns that seemed almost agitated.
“Energy builds up,” he explained, his voice rougher than normal. “Usually I’d discharge it through various means—specific rituals, returning briefly to my realm. But being bound here by the contract limits my options.”
“Is it dangerous?” I asked, concerned.
“Not dangerous, just… uncomfortable. Like an itch under the skin.”
“Can I help?” I offered, not entirely selflessly. The heat radiating from him was doing interesting things to my body, especially given our proximity.
His smile was slow and predatory. “There are ways. If you’re willing.”
“I’m willing,” I said quickly, perhaps too quickly given his knowing laugh.
“Eager, even,” he observed, his hand sliding down to cup my ass and pull me closer. “I like that about you, Julian. You may overthink everything else, but when it comes to pleasure, you’re refreshingly straightforward.”
I should have been embarrassed, but it was hard to feel anything but arousal with his body pressed against mine, his erection evident through the thin fabric of his boxers.
“How does it work?” I asked, my hands already exploring the firm planes of his chest. “This energy release?”
“Sexual energy is the simplest conduit,” he said, his fingers slipping beneath my t-shirt to trace patterns on my bare skin. “Though not the only one. The ancients understood this better than modern humans—the connection between sex and supernatural energy.”
“Is that why so many old rituals involved orgies?” I asked, genuinely curious despite the distraction of his wandering hands.
He laughed. “Partly. Though mostly humans just like having excuses for orgies.”
His mouth found mine in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened into something hungrier, more urgent. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, demanding entrance, which I gladly granted. He tasted like cinnamon and something darker, something that made my head spin.
As we kissed, his hands continued their exploration, pushing my shirt up to expose my chest. When we broke for air, hetugged the shirt over my head entirely, then quickly removed his own boxers. I followed suit, kicking mine off under the covers.
Now we were skin to skin, his supernatural heat against my human coolness, creating a delicious contrast. His tattoos were moving faster now, some of them seeming to leap from his skin to mine where we touched, creating temporary patterns that tingled and burned in the best possible way.
“The tattoos,” I gasped as one swirled around my nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. “They’re—ah!—more active.”
“Part of the energy,” he explained, his voice strained. “They’re attracted to you.”
His mouth moved down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses that seemed to burn pleasantly. When he reached my collarbone, he bit down gently, then soothed the spot with his tongue. I arched into him, my hands clutching at his shoulders.
