Demon's Bride (Crescent Coven, #1)

by Leigh Miller

I scent her before I see her. Her essence is singular and unmistakable. A promise and a temptation and the deepest dark desires of my soul all rolled up into one. She’s mouthwatering, irresistible, and I haven’t even seen her yet. Even so, I know she’s here. How could I not?

I am going to die this night. Surely, the amount of caution and control I’ll need to exert to get us both through this is going to kill me. Still, there’s no force in this realm or the next that could stop me from bending down over my little witch—my mate, my wife—and tilting her chin up toward me. At the first brush of her sweet mouth on my own, I know my soul is well and truly lost.

“I could bring you right to the edge, again and again, until you were crying and begging for release. I could hold your pleasure in the palm of my hand until I had you pliant and willing to do absolutely anything for it. Yes, then I think you’d have no problem calling me Sir.”

I have a demon’s tail in my pussy. A demon’s tail. In. My. Pussy. No matter how I mince the words in my mind, there’s no making sense of them, so I stop trying.

I curl my hand around her cheek. “When you take my knot, I’ll rut you. I’ll spend myself so deep inside you, filling you up with my seed and my child.”

“I would choose you in this realm or the human realm or any of the rest. I would choose you always, you beautiful, sweet, unearthly creature. Mates or not, Goddess-blessed or not, there could never be a life in which I did not know you as my own.”

“Your value does not lie in what you can provide for others or what ‘use’ you render, my bride. Your value lies in the simple fact of your life, your existence.”

“Never doubt your value, little witch. Never with me. There is nothing more precious in any realm or universe than you, to me, nothing more valuable.”