She trailed a finger down his chest to his waistband, and then her hand slid lower. He grabbed her wrist before she could find what she wanted, and she moaned in frustration.

“I gave you my blood,” he whispered, voice ragged. “To burn out the poison. But it has consequences.”

A shiver of awe traced down her back. She knew Abraxas would do nothing that put her life in jeopardy, but her soul was another matter. “Consequences?”

“It is harder to control your desires. This is not you, Celeste. This is… this is me.”

She leaned into him so there was no space between them. Her head fit into the hollow of his throat, and she nipped at his neck.

“So, any minute now, I’m going to want to debate theology?” she asked.

He exhaled, laughing roughly.

“This is all me, Abraxas,” she assured him. “I can feel the demon blood, but it is giving me clarity, not confusion. I feel focused, like everything else has been a distraction, and I finally understand what I want.”

“And what is that?” he breathed.

“You. From the first time I saw you at the Eden, I’ve wanted you.”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head, surprisingly chaste. “Are you sure? Demonkind are not known for their restraint.”

She moved quickly, pushing him backward until he hit the wall. This time, her hands found what they wanted. “Then stop resisting.”

She bit his lower lip, drawing blood. He roared and took her mouth with his, and her world became a place of heat and desire. Skin and sweat and slick, as he lifted her up and parted her thighs. Pain and pleasure and aching need, as she took him inside her.

Let heaven bear witness, she thought as they moved together. But let hell judge.

After, they lay in bed, watching the room lighten with the dawn, the first light of the day creeping in around the edges of the curtains. The effects of the demon blood had waned, but Celeste did not regret what they had done. It had been everything she remembered and more, the pleasure even sweeter since long denied, her abandon more complete under the influence of Abraxas’s blood. She closed her eyes, wishing the night would rule for just a little longer.

Abraxas must have sensed her wish, because he curled around her lower body, his mouth tracing the curve of her backbone, leaving a trail of kisses down her spine.

“Stay here with me today,” he whispered against her skin.

“Where are we?” She had meant to ask, but other, more pressing issues had taken precedence.

“In the Drench. This is my home.”

“The Drench?” she asked, surprised. “What of your house on Ambrosia?” That had been where she had gone to see him before, the place she thought of as his.

“I still own it, but it is not the same with you gone. I prefer here.”