Demon Kissed - Katie May Page 0,48

be worth a small fortune, and my mouth literally hangs open like I’m in The Conjuring or some shit and I’m the creepy ass ghost haunting the joint. “That’s my birthstone,” I state stupidly, pointing first towards one dangling earring and then the next. “And diamonds. Actual diamonds.”

Oh, sweet nibblets.

Sweet nibblets? Really? Fuck, I’m officially losing my mind.

“Fuck, I love them,” I breathe. “Thank you.”

“I wanted to get you something nice,” Zolroth admits, and I could be mistaken—I usually am—but it almost appears as if he’s blushing. Zolroth, a sexy as fuck demon with an elegance that puts the Queen of England to shame, is blushing, the delicate crimson climbing up his neck and staining his cheeks red.

“Are you…are you blushing?” I ask in disbelief as I pierce first one ear and then the other. I swear, with every second that passes, Zolroth’s blush deepens exponentially.

The demon scoffs. “Of course not. I merely have an allergy.”

“An allergy that causes you to blush?” I cock an eyebrow as I shake my head from side to side, admiring the way the earrings jingle.

“It’s a rash,” he protests immediately, vehemently. The look he throws me is capable of freezing over lava. “Just a rash. From allergies.”

“Demons don’t get allergies!” a voice mock-whispers from…up above. I tilt my head back—and back some more—until I see Akor resting indolently on the top of a dangerously thin branch. He rests his chin on his arms as he smiles down at us. “Hi.”

“Hi.” My voice is annoyingly small as I tentatively smile up at him.

“For fuck’s sake…” Zolroth grumbles, placing his hand on the small of my back. “We’re leaving.”

“Wait!” Akor clamors to his feet, using the trunk of the tree for balance, and procures a large, archaic camera seemingly out of thin air. “I need to take a picture to commemorate the occasion! Now, hold still. It should only take about fifteen minutes. But no fucking moving, or we’ll need to start again.”

Zolroth lowers his head so his lips are millimeters from my ear. “On the count of three, run.”

“Huh?” I blink at him stupidly…and then blink at him again as I’m struck by the sheer perfection of the man before me. Really, all I’m capable of around him is blinking and acting like a complete and utter idiot. But it’s fine. It’s cool. It’s all good.

“Three.”

Zolroth takes my hand and races down the driveway, ignoring Akor’s disgruntled shouts and threats from behind us. A giggle climbs up my throat as we head towards a sleek red sports car resting at the bottom of my driveway. I don’t know much about cars, besides my dream one, but even I can see that this beauty is worth more than my entire life. It’s fucking perfection, and even sitting still, I know it’ll be fast.

“Come to momma,” I purr, folding the top of my body over the hood of the car. Apparently, I don’t know how to human when I’m around pretty things. But can you blame me? I’d literally sell my soul for something like this.

“You like it?” Zolroth’s voice lowers to a seductive purr as his fingers trail across the roof, stopping inches from my face. “You wanna ride it? Want to feel it vibrate underneath you? Hear it growl?”

I’m, like, ninety-nine percent sure there’s a sexual innuendo somewhere in his words, but I’m too lost in my car-inspired bliss to care.

“Take me home, Daddy,” I sigh dreamily, and this time, Zolroth can’t contain his snort of amusement.

“For one, your dad is a prick, so don’t ever call me that. I’m not into daddy play…but you can call me Sir. And second, get your cute ass in the car before Akor ties us up and takes his damn picture. Because trust me, he will.”

I take one last lingering sniff of the car—nearly creaming my panties—before sliding into the passenger seat.

And oh Mylanta. The interior is just as mind-numbingly orgasmic as the exterior. From the black leather seats to the highlighted dashboard to the…is that a fucking red button? I really, really want to push it now.

Zolroth climbs into the driver’s seat, a smug, self-satisfied grin etched across his handsome face. He brushes his hand across the top of the dashboard, his honey-brown eyes sliding in my direction.

“Maybe I’ll let you ride me back.” He smirks, putting the car into reverse. “Sorry. I meant, maybe I’ll let you drive her back.”

That is full-on innuendo, but I let it slide because this car is gorgeous and I really