Ivan stared at him, his eyes tracking Nix’s crossed legs. He growled in frustration. “I want to fuck you.”
“Too bad.”
“Closing your legs indefinitely because I’ve pissed you off? Might as well be my wife.”
Nix narrowed his eyes. “Misogyny aside, don’t tempt me with a good time.” He sighed again. He really should be billing hours for this conversation, shouldn’t he? “Your want for me is too tied to your frustration right now. And while I’ve been used by humans for a variety of purposes, none of which had to do with me, it hasn’t been like that with you, and I don’t want to start a new pattern. Got it?” He patted the covers invitingly. “I’ll still share your bed tonight. I’ll even pet your hair the way you like because I’m a fucking saint like that. But your cock will have to fend for itself.”
All at once, Ivan’s ire deflated again. He dragged his hands down his face. “I don’t know what the fuck’swrongwith me.”
“Too many things to count,” Nix told him cheerfully. “But luckily I am, as we’ve already established, a fucking saint, so I have the infinite patience needed to deal with all of them.”
Ivan took a step away from the door. “I’m still angry with you.”
“I’m sure you are. Want to cuddle about it?”
Ivan whipped his belt out of his pants, tossing it on the floor. “I don’t cuddle.”
“Now who’s the liar?” Nix let his clothes disappear off his body, leaving him in tight black briefs. He lay down over the covers.
“No lacy panties?” Ivan asked.
“You don’t deserve them.” Nix pointed a finger at him, repeating Ivan’s earlier words, “Nowstrip.”
Ivan scowled but did as Nix commanded, stripping down to his underwear and showcasing that delicious bulge Nix wanted to put his mouth on more than a little bit. But that would undermine all that hard-won communication they’d just sort of succeeded at, so instead he turned to his side.
“Spoon me,” he ordered.
Ivan climbed onto the bed and lay behind him, wrapping an arm around Nix and tugging him close. So close it might have been hard to breathe, if Nix had needed to do so. A heavy leg draped over Nix’s thigh, Ivan’s erection snug against Nix’s ass.
Nix settled into the hold, feeling at ease for the first time all day. “For someone who doesn’t cuddle, you’re very aggressive about it.”
Ivan’s fingers curled into Nix’s chest. “It’s because you’re so infuriating. I have to get my frustration out somehow.”
“And is it helping?” Nix asked, stroking the blond hairs on Ivan’s arm.
There was a long silence, and then Ivan’s forehead settled against the back of Nix’s neck, his answer muffled but unmistakable. “Yes. It’s helping.”
12
Ivan
Ivan woke up on top of the incubus.
He’d fallen asleep spooning Nix, and he still had an arm and a leg thrown over him, but at some point in his sleep, Ivan had shifted so he was almost completely on top of the demon. Pressing him into the mattress, as if to keep him from leaving.
His erection was also pressed against Nix’s firm ass, but of course, Ivan wasn’t allowed to use it.
With no one to see it, Ivan’s lips quirked into a small smile at the memory of Nix telling him off. Telling him no. It had been infuriating, but also…comforting, in an annoying way. Nix wouldn’t let Ivan steamroller him, even if—evenwhen—Ivan wanted to.
The last person Ivan had been able to say that about had been Alexei, but Alexei’s defiance had come from a very different source. Hatred, maybe. Disgust, definitely.
Nix might misbehave, but he wasn’t seething with ill-concealed disdain for Ivan like Alexei had always been. And he wouldn’t be like Sascha, either, quietly resenting Ivan until the day he was finally able to escape his clutches.
The demon was different from both of them.
And Ivan hated to admit it, but the cuddling had helped calm him down. He felt less jagged than yesterday. Less out of control. His wrath had been overwhelming, when he’d found out Nix had slipped the Book away from him. As his anger always was.
Maybe everyone was right, and that was something to work on.
