Page 137 of Illusory

Huffing, I tried to storm away, but he snagged my elbow and yanked me back. “What are you—” His pillow-soft lips were on mine, shutting me up before I could finish the sentence.

Desire simmered under my skin as he threaded his fingers into my hair, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks as he deepened the kiss, pulling me in until my body was pressed up against his.

For a moment, the world spun wildly out of control—the frustration, the anger, the relentless tension that had beenbuilding all night, coalescing into an electric current that zapped through every nerve ending in my body.

I pushed my hands against his chest, my feeble attempt to regain control, but instead found myself fisting the fabric of his shirt and using it to tug him in closer, to claw my hands up his chest and around his neck as all the anger evaporated like morning mist, leaving only burning desire in its wake.

His hands moved from my hair to my arms and then down the length of my body until they curled around my waist and wrenched me up against him. Until all I could feel was his hardness pressing against me in the most delicious of ways. The scent of rich, melting chocolate invaded my senses and something inside me shattered.

I moaned against his lips as his tongue briefly invaded my mouth, the taste of sweet honey against my own tongue making me needy and greedy for more.

Dominic pulled back suddenly, his breath ragged as I fruitlessly tried to chase his lips. Holding me at arm’s length, he looked over at Trace as an unspoken conversation passed between them. I should have been angry with him for whatever game he had just played with me, but I was too preoccupied with my own panicked thoughts to bother, my body instantly tensing with the realization of what I had just done.

In front of Trace.

Shame burned into my cheeks as my fingers rushed up to cover my lips, as though they had acted completely of their own volition.

“I don’t get it,” said Trace, looking more perplexed than angry or hurt. “How?”

“Well, it’s not magic, Romeo. I simply took her mind off it for long enough for her to relax and forget.”

Forget?My muscles strained as the haze slowlydissipated. Forget what? What were they talking about? And what the hell had just possessed me to make out with Dominic like that right in front of Trace?

“So, she feels relaxed with you but not with me,” surmised Trace, his tone clipped.

“That’s a mighty leap you just took.”

“Would somebody mind filling me in?” I asked, my worried gaze bouncing between the two of them. “What the hell are you guys talking about?”

“We’re talking about your wings, angel,” said Dominic with a smirk and then lifted his chin to gesture to them.

I glanced over my shoulder absentmindedly. “Okay, but what do they have to do with—” I stopped short and looked over my shoulder again, taking in the clear view all the way to the window.

The wings were gone. I hadn’t even felt them retract.

“How?” I asked, mirroring Trace’s question from earlier.

“Apparently,hismouth is the cure to the revulsion you feel when I bite you,” answered Trace as he walked over to the leather armchair and flopped down into it, completely dejected.

Revulsion? What the hell was he talking about? That was the furthest thing from what I felt when he bit me.

“There’s no need for a pity party,” scolded Dominic, sans sympathy. “It has nothing to do with either one of us.”

“Easy for you to say,” he said, glaring up at him. “You’re not the one making her wings bust out of her back every time you feed from her. Wings that she fucking hates. You’re what, 0 for 3?”

“That’s because I have yet to feed from her.” He paused to think about it, his eyes thinning almost imperceivably. “It seems the wings are appearing instinctually like some sort of defense mechanism in order to protect her from perceivedharm…such as a sudden but significant loss of blood. I don’t think it matters who is at the helm of the blood loss.”

Trace thought about it for a beat as he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “So, you think the same thing would have happened if it was you feeding?” he asked, his eyes narrowing with greedy curiosity.

“I can’t fathom why it would be any different.”

“But you don’t know for sure,” argued Trace, needing something more concrete than Dominic’s theories.

“Of course not. We won’t know for sure until…” He hesitated. “We test it.”

“Alright. Then let’s do that,” said Trace as the two of them turned their attention to me.

I was still nodding along with them until I realized what they were suggesting. “Oh. You want to test it outnow?”

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