For the first time in a long time, my senses were fully engaged. I was alive. Furiously alive.

And pleasure was roaring through me. Pleasure so deep and so unending that there was no way my body could contain it.

My hands slid beneath Samael’s wings, and I scratched at his back, my nails digging into his skin as I arched, urging him on. He let out a rough curse and slammed his mouth down on mine. My tongue tangled with his and I gasped as he pulled almost all the way out before driving back into me.

“Samael…”

My voice was high-pitched, almost begging, and he repeated the movement again. And again. His hand slid down to my clit, and I went still. My breath caught in my throat.

And then my climax ripped through me, carrying me through a wave of bliss, picking me up and then gently dropping me back down to earth.

Samael buried his head in the hollow of my neck and emptied himself inside me.

We both lay still, panting, recovering. I dreamily ran my nails gently up and down his back, the feathers of his wings tickling the back of my hand. He shuddered and lifted his head, giving me a dark look.

“That’s not the way to ensure you get any rest tonight, little witch.”

He’d hardened inside me already and I gaped at him. With an amused look, he rolled onto his back and hauled me into his arms.

I was cuddling the demon. After having sex with the demon. And right now, I didn’t have it in me to regret a damn thing.

Smug, male satisfaction radiated from the man beside me. I could feel it in the low grumble he gave as he pulled me even closer and buried his hand in my hair so he could lift my head and take my mouth once more.

But I could also feel it at the end of the bond, and I frowned as I attempted to bolster my shield once more.

So we’d had sex. So what? I simply needed to remember not to humanize the high demon. No matter how tender he could be with me, I had to remember that Samael was not, and would never be even remotely close to human. He would never understand what it was like to not have people bowing and scraping to perform his every whim. To not be able to bond people against their will. To not own sentient beings. He would never comprehend what it was like to not be at the top of the food chain.

And that reminded me.

“How often do you need to feed?”

He went silent, stroking his hand up and down my back. “Why do you ask, little witch?”

Because if he wasn’t feeding from me, I wanted to know who he was feeding from.