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“Take what you need, baby girl,” he rasps, his breath hot against my entrance. “Anchor yourself.”

Without hesitation, I wrap my fingers around the cool, ridged obsidian of his horns, using them for leverage as I grind my pussy down against his mouth. When I pull on them, needing him deeper, he lets out a low, guttural groan into me.

I’m a wreck of sweat and neon shadows, my body clenching around his fingers with a borderline violent hunger.

“Malachi, please,” I whimper. “I can't... I need...”

He ups his speed, fingers hooking and driving into me with a rhythmic, punishing force that matches the suction of his mouth. He catches my clit between his teeth with an electric pressure that makes my vision go white.

The pleasure detonates through the pit of my stomach and flows through my body like a flash flood. My internal walls clench around his fingers in a series of spasms, and I arch off the bench, my body giving way as a hot gush of slickness drenches his hand and mouth and the iron beneath me.

I’m shaking, my breath coming in pathetic sobs as the aftershocks rattle my bones. I can't even let go of his horns; my knuckles are white, locked onto the obsidian ridges like they’re the only things keeping me from floating off the balcony and into the fire.

He pulls back just enough to look up at me, his chin smeared with spit and slick. His snake-like pupils have almost completely swallowed his golden irises, leaving nothing but two dark, predatory voids. His tongue darts out to lick a stray drop of me from his bottom lip. Then, he grins—a slow, wicked thing that promises this was just the overture.

“Better,” he rasps, prying my hands from his horns gently.

The metallic slide of his belt buckle and the hiss of leather are the only sounds in the air. I look down, and the breath I was trying to claw back into my lungs vanishes. A horizontal silver bar is pierced through the head of his cock, the ends capped with smooth, shimmering balls.

“Holy shit…” I choke out.

Before I can find my feet, he’s hauling me up and spinning me around, my stomach pressing into the freezing stone of the balcony railing until I’m tilted forward, staring down at the obsidian spires and the swirling mists a thousand feet below.

“Wait—Malachi, stop,” I gasp, my hands scrambling for purchase. “We can’t. I’m not—I don’t have... I'm not on the pill or anything, I⁠—”

He pauses, chuckling against my back.

“You think your biology is compatible with mine?” His voice is a gravelly purr against my ear. “I am a creature of Hell, Eden. My seed wouldn't know what to do with a mortal womb any more than a tree would know how to grow in soup.”

He nudges my head down, forcing me to look at the horizon.

“Just look at Hell, Eden,” he rasps, his chest a wall of heat against my bare back. “Tell me if anything here looks like it follows the rules of your world.”

The cold bar through his cock catches against my pussy, a blunt, metallic intrusion that stretches me wide before he even starts to sink in. And when I whine, he lunges forward, burying himself in one long, devastating thrust. The silver hooks deep inside me, dragging against my g-spot, turning my brain to static, buckling my knees.

“That's it, baby girl,” he rasps, his hands coming around to cup my breasts. “There you go.”

He’s driving me to the edge, his body a relentless engine behind me that doesn't know the meaning of mercy. The violet city below is a blur of light and shadow, dancing in time with the rhythmic, wet thud of his hips hitting my ass.

He moves one hand from my breast, the air hitting my damp skin for a split second before—crack. He slaps my ass so hard it sends a fresh rush of adrenaline straight through my blood. I cry out, my fingers clawing at the stone railing, my internal muscles clamping around that bar so hard I think I’ll snap it.

I’m right on the precipice, my heart hammering a desperate rhythm against the cold stone, and then I shatter.

A choked, desperate moan leaves my throat as the orgasm hits like an explosion. My vision goes black at the edges as I gush over him, my body losing all control, squirting onto the balcony floor in a hot pulse that coats my legs. I’m a wreck of nerves and friction, one hand scrambling back as I try to pull him even deeper into the center of the storm.

“Filthy little mortal,” he growls into my spine. “You were made to be ruined by me.”

He surges into me one last time, groaning, filling me, coming so hard his entire frame trembles against my back.

The cold air hits my sweat-slicked skin, and the silence that follows is deafening. Down below, the city’s still spinning its oily webs, completely indifferent to the fact that I just had my soul rattled out of my body by a demon with metal through his anatomy.

I wait for the shame to kick in. I wait for the part where I curl into a ball and weep for my lost sanity.

But it doesn’t come.

I’m still probably a missing person. I’m still in Hell. My cat’s still being babysat by a demon. But as Malachi pulls back, his fingers dragging across my hip, all I can think is that for the first time in far too long, I can actually feel my own heart beating—even if it is just to spite me—and the slush in my marrow is finally starting to melt.

Chapter 27