Page 3 of Cuddly Demon

This human... is so much better than I expected.

One look at Saint in the library, with his curly chestnut hair and baggy sweater, sparked something inside of me I thought was long dead.

When I still roamed free in Etruria back in the day—that's where some of my brothers and I chose to go when we left Hell after we became adult demons—I had crushes on many cute men like him.

Of course, I was also younger then—not three thousand plus years old.

But Saint makes me remember the wonderful times I had of finding a special boy to cherish and protect.

Protection. That's what I want to do for Saint.

I don't know why, but something about him is so vulnerable. He clearly needs a strong demon like me to keep him safe.

Saint plops down on his bed. "This is my dorm room. It's not much, but it's home."

"It's perfect," I say, my eyes scanning the space. "It's cozy and filled with your unique scent. I like it."

Saint laughs, his cheeks flushing. "Thanks. I'm glad. Do you want to help me pick out a book?"

I shrug. "Sure. I haven't been out and about in three thousand years, so I might not know your favorite authors. But if you told me a bit about them, I might be able to help you select one."

Saint grins and grabs a book off his shelf. "Have you heard of Oscar Wilde?"

I shake my head, a small smile playing at the corner of my lips. "Ah, no. He must have come after Homer."

Saint laughs. "That's one way to put it. He was a Victorian writer, and he was quite the scandalous figure in his time. His writing is beautiful. Here, let me read you a passage."

Saint clears his throat and begins to read, his voice soft and melodic. As he reads, I feel myself getting lost in the words, in the rhythm of his voice. I watch as his eyes light up with passion and excitement, and I can't help but feel a deep admiration for him.

When he finishes the passage, I lean in closer to him. "That was beautiful. Your voice is like music to my ears."

Saint blushes, his eyes darting away from mine. "You're sweet."

I reach out and tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, my fingertips brushing against his skin. "Keep reading."

Saint selects a different book this time, this one by a writer named Jane Austen. Our fingers brush against each other as I help him turn the pages, and a spark of electricity jolts inside me. I can't help but wonder if Saint feels it too.

Our bodies are close, but not quite touching on his bed. It's tough not to change that—to take Saint in my arms, then see what his pretty pink lips can do.

Saint turns his eyes up, and a tremor of lust pulses in my chest. It's as if he's studying me, exploring every inch of my body with his eyes.

Saint clears his throat, setting the book down. "Tell me about yourself."

"I come from a cabal of demons who have been around for millions of years," I say, my voice low and smooth. "We've seen the rise and fall of empires, the birth and death of countless civilizations. And yet, we remain. I've seen things that would make your hair stand on end. Things that would make you question everything you know about the world."

Saint's eyes widen, and I can tell he's intrigued. "Go on."

"I'm a wish-granting demon. So are my brothers. But as you know, those wishes come at a price. Before I was locked in the tomb, I granted many wishes. This was in Etruria, where I chose to move after I left Hell as a mature young demon. But I must admit. I've... never granted a wish for anyone quite like you." I lean in close, my lips right next to his ear. "You're beautiful."

Saint's eyes widen, crinkling at the corners. "Really? What makes me so special?"

I reach out and trace his jawline with my finger. "You have a pure soul. I can sense it. You're not like the others who have summoned me. You're different, and I'm drawn to that."

Saint's lips part, and I can see the fear in his face. "But... demons aren't supposed to be drawn to purity, right? I'm a virgin. I've never been with a man, and that makes me a loser to most other humans."

My eyes never leave his. "You're wrong. Demons can't control who they're attracted to. Like you'd expect, my brothers were attracted to bad boys. Ones who walked the streets of Etruria picking up married men. They liked correcting their behavior, typically through spankings. I'm different."

"I like that you're different."