He lifted the fabric, deliberately exposing me to Lugh, who took in the sight with just as much hunger. The demon kept my shift raised as he moved around me, his gaze dropping with unmistakable intent when he faced me again.
“What a pretty sight,” he murmured, rough and pleased.
Then he leaned in.
His mouth claimed mine in a sudden, hungry kiss, stealing the soft sound that broke from me. There was nothing gentle in it—no hesitation, no question—only dark satisfaction and practiced confidence. His hand slid up the inside of my thigh, stopping just short of where I ached for him, the heat of his palm making the slick, throbbing need between my legs impossible to ignore.
“So feckin’ soaked for us already,” he breathed against my lips, his words a low, rough rasp that made my stomach clench.
He deftly swiped his thumb over my clit. A helpless little moan slipped free—high and breathy, embarrassingly eager. His answering sound was deeper, a guttural hum of approval that rumbled out of his chest and into my mouth as he kissed me harder, owning every shaky exhale like it belonged to him.
He pulled back just enough to rub my own arousal across my lower lip. “Whimper all you want, pretty mortal,” he said, voice all dark command now.
“Use that sweet mouth,” he ordered softly. “And tell me, with words—tell me you’re my pretty little cumslut.”
I obeyed. “I’m your pretty little cumslut.” I managed to get the words out for him, my voice thinner than I wanted, but steady enough.
He hummed low in his chest, clearly pleased. “Mmm… such a willing little thing. Hungry for a fat demon cock.”
His hand slid up, fingers framing my jaw as his thumb brushed the corner of my mouth.
“Open up for me,” he murmured. “Let me see the way your throat works.”
My lips parted for him, breath trembling as I held his gaze. He spit into my mouth, catching me off guard—as if he wanted to see whether I’d flinch. I didn’t.
“Hold it,” he murmured. “Keep holding it.”
The look he gave me while was nothing short of feral. My tongue tingled with anticipation, my throat working around nothing.
“Good girl,” he said at last, voice roughening. “Now swallow for me. I want to feel your throat move under my hand.”
His fingers tightened around my neck as I obeyed, the simple act feeling obscene under the weight of his attention.
A ragged sound broke out of him. “Perfect,” he muttered, dragging my mouth up to his.
The kiss that followed was a hungry onslaught—messy, unrestrained, all teeth and heat and possession. He kissed me like he meant to wipe away every doubt and every thought that came before him, leaving nothing but the taste of him and the buzzing, breathless need clawing through my veins.
“Look at your demigod,” the demon drawled near my ear, amusement curling around the words. “Hard as ever.”
Lugh’s chest was rising and falling a little too fast, the line of his trousers pulled tight in a way that left very little toimagination. His gaze dragged over me in a slow sweep—bare thighs, the cling of silk, the faint tremble still running through my legs—and when his eyes met mine again, they were darker, pupils blown wide.
“Of course I am. She’s such a bonnie thing.” His eyes traced the length of me like a touch. “That soft skin, those big doe eyes… those tight nipples hardly contained under that slip that can barely hold her.”
A rough sound rumbled in his chest, and instead of closing the distance, he stepped back—just enough to lower himself onto a broken slab of stone behind him. It sat a few feet from the circles—close enough to the fire’s glow to see each other, far enough that the chalk lines weren’t underfoot.
“Come here,” Lugh murmured.
I started to step toward him, pulse skittering, when the demon leaned close and spoke softly. “Crawl to your demigod,” he whispered.
A shiver raced through me. I dropped to my hands and knees, eagerly obeying, and crossed the short distance toward Lugh as he settled back. He waited until I reached him, then caught me and guided me up, drawing me onto his lap so I straddled him.
His hands slid to my hips, moving me with quiet insistence. In one smooth pull he drew me out of the demon’s reach and into his lap to straddle him, knees braced on either side of his thighs, the thin silk of my slip riding scandalously high. Warmth rolled off his body, his chest solid beneath my palms as I caught myself there.
Behind us, I could feel the demon’s attention like a second pair of hands, annoyed and fascinated all at once.
Lugh’s arm wrapped low around my back, holding me close like he had no intention of letting me slip away. “Are youstill alright?” he asked, voice softer now, that careful concern threading back through all the dark, coiled intensity beneath it.
I swallowed, throat tight. “Yes.” Sitting still on him was impossible. The closeness of his body, the solid line of his thigh beneath the thin slip—it all pressed too close. Before I could stop myself, my hips rocked against him in a small, testing roll.