Kieran steps through the doorway and crosses his arms across his chest. His brows are pinched together and his lips tightly pursed. I can't quite decipher his expression, but his eyes burn with something I've never seen before.

"I... the call... it was Victor." I stumble over my words under the heat of his gaze.

"I got that," he says, his brow furrowed as he searches my face for—I don't know what.

Pumpkin weaves between his legs and passes us both to head downstairs, like he can sense the awkward tension and wants no part in it.

"He said he was going to come clean about everything. I thought I would hear him out."

"And then he warned you to stay away from me. Told you I'm a liar and I'd hurt you." He takes another step forward, his dark eyes locked with mine.

"You heard that part?"

He smirks slightly and taps a finger near his ear.

"Yeah. Supernatural hearing." His gaze falls to the floor, then back up to me. "I also heard the part where you said I was more than just a... what was it? 'Demon fuckboy'?"

The corner of his lip twitches at that, but his overall expression remains serious and intense.

Is he angry? Is he hurt?

So much for my so-called empath abilities. I have no idea what he's thinking.

"Okay, I guess the exact phrasing may be harsh, but I was making a point tha-"

I stop speaking as he rapidly closes the distance between us and leans against the wall, caging me in with his arms. My pulse drums in my chest as he stops with his face inches from mine. His scent floods my senses—a heady mixture of copper and cinnamon.

"Did you mean it?" His voice is low and gravelly.

"I..." I'm not sure which answer he wants to hear, but I opt for honesty. "I did. I mean, you are more than that. You're a good person an-"

He grabs my face in both hands and gives me an earthshaking, bone-melting kiss that sends electricity shooting through my body. I can't finish my sentence. I can barely keep my legs beneath me. My palms land on his chest, and before I know it I've grasped at his t-shirt, tugging him closer until our bodies had completely melded together.

I don't know how long we kiss, but by the time he pulls away, I find myself gasping for air. His hands fall to the sides of my neck and he rests his forehead against mine.

"Nobody ever stands up for me," he says with a breathy rasp. "But you did."

The weight of the moment sinks into me. This means something to him.

I realize the truth underlying his words—Kieran never had anyone there to stand up for him. Not when he was a kid getting smacked around by his shitty father. Not when he was a young queer guy living on the streets. Not when he was a newly initiated demon with no clue how to deal with his powers. That's why his friend Zane means so much to him. Because Zane was the first person in the world who ever stuck out their neck for him. And now I'm the second. I feel the raw emotion simmering behind his eyes—he's stunned and overwhelmed, as though my words ignited something in him.

He kisses me again, his powerful frame pressing me into the wall. His hands glide up and down my curves, like he can't decide where they belong. He finally wraps an arm around my waist and loops the other beneath my thigh. He lifts me and brings me into the bedroom, closing the door behind us.

His touch is frenzied and passionate, like he's showing me his gratitude with his body. Every kiss and hum from his lips is an act of unrivaled devotion.

The floor is still scattered with lit candles and I can't help but giggle at the romantic setting.

"We have some serious ambiance going here," I say as he lays me down on the bed.

"Might as well take advantage," he says with a smirk, parting my legs with his thigh and nestling his body between them. He dips his head into the crook of my neck and sucks the spot just above my collarbone, making my back bow involuntarily. My fingers thread through his hair and his hand wraps around the back of my neck. He presses our lips together with a growl that rattles through me and I can feel how much emotion he's putting into it. It's all-consuming, like a dam has broken and everything has rushed forth at once.

He pulls back for a moment, glassy-eyed with his lips swollen and rosy. He sweeps back his messy hair and lets loose a hard, shaky breath. He raises a hand and traces my jawline with his fingers.

"You're fucking incredible, Babygirl," he says, his adoring gaze fixed on me. "I mean that, you... I... I would do anything for you. Fucking anything."

I don't have time to react before he gives me a sample. He removes my panties with a single swift tug and dives under my skirt. His mouth is on my core in an instant, his tongue pulling off some serious magic that immediately has me seeing stars.

Holy hell.

I moan, clenching my fists around the fabric of the pillows above my head. He draws my clit between his lips and sucks, sending waves of pleasure through my core. He wraps his palms around the backs of my thighs. The air is thick and warm from the heat of the candles, so the feeling of his cool hands on my skin is welcome.

Painfully slowly, he draws his tongue upward along my center and a jolt of pleasure rocks through me. He does it again, just as slow, and my vision blurs with ecstasy. After a few more languid licks, the tension in me explodes into an assault of sensation—liquid euphoria flooding through my veins as I shake and moan.

He plants kisses up and down my thighs as I come down from my high.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmurs against my skin.

God, I love this man.

He moves up my body, kissing a trail from my hips and stomach to my breasts and the column of my throat. His lips finally find mine and I kiss him—hard. I feel his thick erection pulse against me as he groans into my mouth.

I love you.

But I don't say it. I can't. Instead, I break our kiss and say the only other thought on my mind.

"I want you."

He smiles—the kind of wicked half-smile that makes my insides flutter.

"You have me, gorgeous."

His thumb grazes my lower lip and tugs my chin down to kiss him. The kiss is gentle and sweet, but filled with reverence, as though he's kneeling at the holiest of alters. His gratitude doesn't need to be spoken, I can feel it.

But in this moment, all I want to do is to show him that he doesn't owe me anything. That I'm not doing him a favor by having faith in him. He has earned it.

I love you.

The words are balanced on the tip of my tongue, threatening to tumble forth at any moment, but I bite them back. I'm too afraid to ruin the moment if he doesn't feel the same.

He rises up on his knees and, with both hands, pulls his shirt up over his head. His muscles ripple and flex with the motion, making my mouth water with the need to lick every line and groove.

No time like the present.

I push him to the side and he rolls off me and lands with his back on the mattress. My leg swings over him so that I'm straddling his knees. He looks like a living wet dream, with his chest a wall of finely-sculpted muscle with a deep V drawing my eyes to the straining bulge in his jeans. His arms resting above his head like he's ready and waiting for me to use his body. I bend down and trace my tongue up the center line of his abs. The muscles tighten beneath his bronze skin and a low, deep growl rumbles through his chest.

I bring my hips higher so that I can grind against him. I lean forward for a kiss and his hands quickly migrate to my ass. His muffled groans against my lips are sinful and delicious. I'd do almost anything to get him to make those sounds.

I bite down on his lower lip and he bucks his hips into me, letting out a guttural moan that shoots straight to my core. I'm startled by a sudden metallic taste and I pull back. His lower lip has a streak of blood on it.

"Shit—I'm sorry," I curse. "I didn't mean to bite that hard."

He smirks and draws a thumb across his lip, then sucks the blood off.

"Already healed, baby." He sucks the blood off his thumb, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Did I hurt you?"

"I'm a demon, remember? You couldn't seriously hurt me if you tried. Plus..." He leans in to whisper into my ear. "I like the pain when you're the one giving it out."

A flicker of an idea passes through my mind.

"You sure?"

He raises an eyebrow and licks his lips.

"I swear to god, that's the hottest thing you've ever fucking said. I don't know what you've got in mind, but I'm so down." He smiles like a teen boy losing his virginity.

I slip off the edge of the bed and stand up.

"Take your pants off," I instruct.

He nods eagerly.

"Yes ma'am." He whips his pants off faster than would be possible for a human man and returns to his position on the bed with his arms above his head.

I grab his t-shirt from the floor and straddle him. I tie the shirt around his eyes like a blindfold.

"God, girl, you're fucking killing me. I'm so fucking hard it hurts."

"Tell me if it's too much, okay? You know the stoplight thing, right? You tell me red, yellow, or green?"

"Do you really have to ask? Fuck yes."

I rake my nails down his chest harder than I normally would, knowing that he enjoys it when I'm rough. He writhes under my touch, moaning in a way that I'm convinced could make me come without a single touch.

I hover above him, positioning his cock at my entrance, then lower onto him in one smooth motion. I ride him, holding his hands above his head. I roll my hips again and again, climbing toward another orgasm.

"Keep your hands there," I say. His smile widens.

"Anything you want, babygirl."

I lean over and grab a candle from the nightstand. Wax has pooled at the top. I dip a finger in to make sure it's not too hot, and it seems a reasonable temperature.

Here goes nothing.

I continue rocking my hips as I hold the candle over him and drip a few drops of hot wax onto his chest.

"Uuunnhh fu-ucck," he groans, gripping the posts of my headboard tight. His sucks in a shaky breath and his head falls back.

"Red, yellow, or green?" I ask.

"Green, baby. Always green for you. So fucking green."

I run a finger through the wax on his chest and drag it down to his navel, bouncing and rolling my hips faster as I do.

"Fuck," he curses. "Oh god... I'm gonna come if you... I'm..."

I take that as another green light and pour a trail of wax from the center of his pecs down to his navel, continuing to ride him. The wax sizzles as it hits his skin and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip. It pools in the grooves between his muscles, flowing down his torso toward where our bodies merge. My orgasm seems to hit at the same time his does, his own guttural moans almost drowning out my own.

"Oh god, Red, fuck..." His expression contorts and his hips buck wildly. "Oh god, I... I fucking love you so much."

My eyes shoot open and I freeze.

I think my heart may have just stopped.

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