November
“Oh!”
My spine straightened, and I whipped my gaze to Emma, who sat on the leather sofa in my office. With an excited smile, she stared at her laptop and danced her shoulders up and down. She’d paired her cashmere sweater—which I’d purchased for her when she moved in—with a black knee-length skirt that had ridden up slightly, exposing her matching garter belt.
Feeling my gaze on her, she turned to me, her grin widening. Her green eyes brightened with joy as she excitedly clapped her hands while balancing her MacBook Air on her lap. “I just found a place that looksperfectfor the Christmas party. It shows they’re available next month. This is great timing!” She squealed and continued gazing at me, her eyes full of eagerness for the praise I could never deny her.
“Good girl,” I said, and the corner of my lip barely lifted in a smirk when she preened at those two words. “Contact them for a walk-through.”
I was hesitant to make a reservation since I was unfamiliar with the place. We needed a business that would accept over two hundred people, and that was next to impossible because of the small buildings in New Orleans. For the last week, Emma had searched for a place and come back with limited options.
“You got it,” Emma said with an eager smile as she typed out an email.
I shifted my attention back to my laptop, reviewing a document I had obtained from HR regarding a new employee. It didn’t have a picture of them, which irked me. Human Resources knew I required a picture because it allowed me to know every employee in my business. This reminded me too much of when Emma had been hired as my personal assistant months ago.
Peeking at Emma from the corner of my eye, I watched as she finished typing and read over the email. Her lips moved as she went over it, whispering words too low for me to make out anything she said. She didn’t realize that making the call could increase our chances of a speedy appointment with the business.
In the months since we started our relationship, I moved Emma into my home to live with me. In that time, I noticed she didn’t understand many things, which wasn’t her fault. My research on schizophrenia revealed that individuals with this condition often have a hard time thinking clearly. I came across an article written by someone with the disorder explaining that there was already too much going on in their minds (senses, more like). It sometimes felt like their brain shut off randomly, no longer able to absorb things around them like “normal” people could.
Reading that had helped shed some light on the illness and gave me a sliver of understanding when Emma’s eyes glazed over while I talked to her. Or why her eyes widened and her gaze darted at everything but looked confused, like she didn’t know where she was.
My sunshine isn’t stupid. She just has a hard time understanding things because of her schizophrenia.
I’d also learned that people with the mental illness sometimes sounded drunk because of their slurring. I paid close attention to Emma over the last few months and noticed her slurred speech. The reason behind it didn’t matter, whether it was due to medication or schizophrenia. The crucial point was that she felt content and at ease, assured that I didn’t judge her based on her illness.
Letting out an irritated huff, she picked up her cell phone from beside her on the cushion.
My lip twitched, and I turned back to what I was doing to keep from smiling and her seeing it.
“Hi! I’m Emma Hayes, and I’m calling about...”
I stopped listening and scrolled through a legal document. My client was divorcing his wife and wanted to keep the house, but she fought tooth and nail to keep the home. The ruthless husband found loopholes in ways he could fuck her over. Humans and their petty problems didn’t interest me, but I couldn’t bear the thought of Emma being mistreated like what this man was doing to his soon-to-be ex-wife.
Marriage was nothing but a piece of paper and vows to a god who didn’t care about his creations. My bond with Emma went deeper, and she had to have known that. She’d never mentioned marriage before, and I wondered if it was something she expected out of me. Demons were different when it came to showing our loyalty to our mates. One of them was a bond and the other was a marking.
I’d yet to mark Emma because I knew it’d be painful for her. Though I was sometimes rough with her in the bedroom, I didn’t want to hear her screams of pleasure turn into sounds of fear and pain. I was a ruthless demon who despised humans, and that wouldn’t change, but when it came to Emma, I kissed the ground she walked on. The last thing I wanted was to put tears in her eyes.
Fuck. She has me wrapped around her little finger and doesn’t even realize it.
My inner demon cackled, his lips pulled into a Cheshire grin.
“Umm, sir?”
My cock twitched, and I clenched my jaw as I swung my gaze to Emma, finding her looking at me with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She set her laptop on the couch and stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt. Her full lips tipped up into a small smile. More blood rushed to my aching dick.
I dropped my gaze down her body, drinking up every inch of her, knowing she didn’t wear any panties. Why? Because I told her not to. I wanted her to be ready for me anytime during the day. When the mating bond between us demanded that I rut Emma, there was no denying the urge. It’d only get worse and more painful the longer we denied those feelings. When I fought against it months ago, I was miserable and aching to sink deep inside her to fill her with my cum. Even at that time, when we were bonded and she was mine, I couldn’t resist her. Neither could my inner demon.
Emma tucked her hands behind her back as she crossed the small space between us, stopping at my desk.
I raised an eyebrow. “What is it, sunshine?”
Her cheeks pinkened, and she averted her gaze, looking past my shoulder to the floor-to-ceiling windows. I found it adorable that she would still become shy around me, regardless of how often we were together or had sex where I claimed her as mine.
Sometimes I wondered if she thought she wasn’t good enough for me. She’d asked occasionally if I really loved her or if this was just some fling for me. Each time I’d told her that she was my everything and if she weren’t here with me, I’d burn the world down before I found her in the afterlife.
My naïve sunshine. She doesn’t know the power she wields over me and my demon.
He rumbled in agreement in my head, focusing solely on her and curious about what she wanted.
