“No.” He slid onto the couch next to me, opening a box of cards into his hands. I watched his fingers like they held secrets, my face burning from such an innocent body part. He leaned forward, flashing a smile in my view as he began to deal us our cards.

“What are you?” I asked. There was no doubt in my mind this man was inhuman. Lorcan was silent for a moment, his jaw tensing as he finished dealing us cards. I didn’t move to pick them up and he leaned back, ignoring his pile too.

Red eyes held mine. I felt like a cobra being snake charmed. His fingers walked across the skin of my arm, leaving invigorating touches of sparkling heat.

“You like a bit of danger, don’t you, Lacey?” He asked in a deep whisper that made me sit a little straighter.

“I do,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“I’m an incubus,” he admitted.

My body went rigid and I blinked slowly. I was struggling to comprehend. He was a demon? Demons were rare. Not just a demon though, a sex demon.

“Oh,” I said, at a loss for words. I’d never met a demon. I eyed him again, trying to pick out any clues that gave away what he was.

“Are you planning to give me sex dreams?” I asked playfully. He swallowed thickly.

“Are you having sex dreams, Lacey?” He asked, looking at me strangely.

“I don’t remember my dreams,” I said. Not entirely a lie. I really didn’t recall them often and couldn’t recall any recently.

“That’s a shame,” he said, turning his eyes away. He looked disappointed for a moment before he recomposed himself. He leaned in, pressing his mouth to my ear. I shuddered as his smooth words teased me.

“I was hoping you’d feed me.” Something brushed against my skin. An invisible sort of magic that felt like silk and fur at the same time. I sucked in a breath and pushed out my chest. The tiny space between us filled to the brim with a cloud of hot power that made me dripping wet between my thighs.

“Fuck,” Lorcan grumbled, his pupils dilating as his nostrils flared like he was smelling something. His fingers slid across either side of my jaw until he was cupping my face in his hands, lifting my chin slightly.

“You always smell just like dessert,” he rasped. His lips pressed the corners of my mouth before he pushed our foreheads together and groaned.

“Always?” I asked but he ignored me.

“You make me want to be a demon,” he murmured–a confession of a sinner to their saint. Then his lips found mine. They felt so much softer than I expected. His touch ignited me. The demanding way he cradled my face and the desperate kiss he inflicted on me made me feel wild and hungry.

He touched me like a familiar lover, his kisses inciting me to near desperation as his hands held me to him. He touched me like he’d missed me. He touched me like he had been dying to do it for a very long time and I found myself doing the same. As if he was a long lost lover, finally coming home. My fingers threaded through his hair and I whimpered against his mouth.