Puca groaned, coming roughly as he buried himself in my throat. I pushed in his ass and came, my balls drawing up and unloading in him. My calloused hands slid over his body, fingers burying in his short hair and scratching at his scalp, trying to show him I cared about him while my mouth was otherwise occupied.

Quickly, I reached around and snatched my head before he decided to collapse on it though. My hands felt the trail of Puca’s release string from the bottom of my neck. Anything that got swallowed tended to just slide right out, having nowhere else to go.

Regardless, I put my sloppy neck back together and it stitched up immediately. I dragged my hand across the seam, cleaning up Puca’s spent cum. He collapsed on the ground, looking like a rich whore in his thin black socks held up by garters and his button-up not even covering his round, bare, red arse.

“Don’t forget I’m the boss,” I said and he grunted. “At least try to follow my rules,” I sighed. He made a noise of disgust but I knew he would, at least, try. The poor creature was a victim of his character though. Sometimes I thought he might actually be fully incapable of following the rules people gave him.

I sighed, zipping back up my cock and standing over Puca who lay sprawled on the floor in a starfish position on his belly. His eyes were closed and he had a smile on his face. I rolled my eyes and started to leave the room before I did something embarrassing like cradling him in my arms and telling him everything was okay.

He’d likely try to bite me.

“Dullahan,” Lorcan said, standing up from the bed while holding the blanket up to his hips. I stopped and looked back at him. His eyes were still black and his demonic tattoos were over his skin. His horns hadn’t gone away since I’d locked him in the room with Lacey. He was changing. I hoped this was a good thing.

It wasn’t normal for demons to look human all the time. Lorcan had been in survival mode a lot of his life, an incubus abandoned to fend for himself as far back as he could remember.

“I could have handled myself,” he said and I raised an eyebrow.

“You underestimate him,” I said and Lorcan looked at the passed out man on the floor in apprehension. Puca was mumbling Lacey’s name with a delirious smile as he dreamed. I rolled my eyes.

“Before people forgot him, Puca was feared throughout the Celtic Isles. And even now, when the modern folk don’t know his stories, they know his name. It’s buried in there, a small reminder etched into their DNA for the thousands of years of fear their ancestors carried. That’s how terrifying an entire group found him. He was what made them afraid of the dark and he’s given the poor bastards generational PTSD. Council is right that he’s better off dead. Too bad I don’t like what’s mine being killed.”