Page 88 of The Order of the Bitter Hunt

His fingers are at my throat again, claws dragging over my sensitive skin. “Is that what you want? Tell me.”

I nod uselessly, my legs spreading wider. “Fuck me. Fill me.”

I take his horns in both hands and drag his face closer to mine.

The red of his eyes flashes a bright scarlet, and a growl falls from his lips. His fingers are gone, and, finally, his body settles between my legs.

“You don’t know what it means to touch a demon’s horns,” he says.

“Then tell me.”

“It means I trust you.” He drags his length along my folds. “And it feels like?—”

I squeeze his horn harder.

He grunts. “Fuck. You can’timaginewhat it feels like, princess.”

“But you like it?”

He nods, wetting his lips.

To be trusted by Jun, to touch him where no one else can, it means something. My mind is too empty to consider what that may be.

“Is it safe?” he asks, pressing his tip to my entrance.

I nod, my chest heaving with each shaking breath I take. “It’s safe. Fuck me.”

It’s the last confirmation he needs to push in, giving himself to me inch by inch. My legs wrap around his waist, keeping him in place, and I tighten my grasp on his horns. He seems to like that, grunts and growls turning to desperate moans, his hips sputtering.

“Does that feel nice?” I croon, stroking my thumb against the tip of a horn.

“Yes.” He pushes in to the hilt. “Fuck. You’re evil.”

“You like it.”

Our eyes lock. He can see me, and I can see him. When he pushes in, it’s as if he’s trying to savor each stroke. We moan together, the sounds lost between our lips, exchanging wet kisses as we lose ourselves in pleasure.

I feel what he feels, and he feels what I do. Somewhere, in the middle of it, I know the hatred between us is gone—it’s become something else, and I wonder if it was ever hatred at all.

“What are you doing to me?” he mutters, thrusting harder. “You feel like heaven, like this devil can finally get a piece of the sky.”

It’s impossible. We’re both beings of death, but when we meet… it becomes divine.

I could ask him the same question, but I don’t. Desire buries the words. He’s enough to warm my frigid bones. When we connect, we are more than what we are.

His fingers brush against my clit, but I hardly need the touch to fall apart in his arms. I could come from feeling his desire, from him filling me to the brim until I’m trembling under him.

My hands cling to his horns as his rutting ceases. His lips press to my jaw, leaving behind kisses so tender they make me feel sacred. Together we, the damned ones, are indeed holy.

Coming has never felt like this before.

Junand I return to the celebrating students, but we certainly don’t return to our normal state. Electricity buzzes through me as we walk through the hallway, our fingers weavedtogether and his face flushed red. It reminds me of the way he tastes, of his pulse point under my fingers, and?—

Professor Connolly appears when we’re on our way out. Her presence is jolting. Now that I’m freshly fed, my face is likely as red as Jun’s.

“I was wondering where you got off to,” she says. “I can’t be responsible for lost students right now.”

I press my lips together, suppressing a smile. “I understand.”