Page 57 of Illusory

“Right,” I said, remembering what my uncle had told me about the origins of Revenants the day I’d stolen his special book. Basically, that they were created topside by a bunch of rogue witches trying to win a war. That was the short version anyway. “Well, we should at least test it out on a demon or two,” I said, undeterred. “Imagine how useful something like this could be in the future. Then again, I’d have to learn how to control the wings first,” I added with a frown that hurt my entire face.

“And you will,” he said as he carefully rolled up the sleeves of his black button up shirt, exposing his forearm. “All in due time.”

I arched my brow at him. “You say that like it’s a sure thing.”

“When it comes to you, angel, it most certainly always is,” he said and then bit down into his wrist, his dark eyes holding me captive.

His words felt profound to me, almost confessionary, but I couldn’t latch onto them, unsure if it was just my needy heart leading me astray again. Despite my need to take apart his words and make them into something I could use, my eyes gravitated to the two beads of red blood blossoming againsthis smooth skin.

“Heal,” he commanded softly as he held out his wrist to me.

There were a dozen questions floating through my mind then, like what any of this meant and where the two of us stood, and whether his offer to heal me meant something more than just a courteous necessity.

A part of me wanted to demand the answers from him, to know that he still cared about me and wanted me, but my mouth refused to take a stand, too afraid of hearing all the things I knew could break me if he uttered them. So, I clutched onto the lie and his wrist and then covered them both with my lips.

The familiar taste of him against my tongue slowed the racing thoughts until all I could think about was his medicinal blood moving through my body, healing more than just bruised muscles and torn flesh. It was mending the broken parts of me, filling the voids in my heart and quieting the noise in my head. It washed through me like a cresting wave hitting the shore and then retreating, taking with it all my fears and loneliness and heartache and pain, and dragging them all back out to sea where they could never again find me.

It was everything I needed and more. Ineededto heal and forget and to keep the bad at bay for as long as possible, and so I clamped down harder, taking more and more from him as he balled his hand into a fist to appease me, his arm tensing against my mouth as he quietly watched me with those dark, knowing eyes of his. Eyes that could unravel me with just one look. That could break me apart and put me back together again just as easily.

My body instantly reacted—to him, to that look in his eyes—warming with want and need and other things I couldn’t quantify with words, and I moaned, the sound vibratingagainst his skin.

Dominic cursed under his breath and then sank further back against the chair, his legs spread open slightly as he tipped his head all the way back. I wasn’t sure if his response was because I was taking too much blood too quickly, or if it was because he was simply enjoying this as much as I was. I’d hoped it was the latter because despite knowing that I was undoubtedly weakening him and quickly approaching the point where I would need to stop, I also reallyreallydidn’t want to.

“Angel,” he warned, my name a strained and hoarse whisper that scratched against his throat.

I shook my head, not wanting this to end.

“You’ve had enough,” he said and tugged his arm back, pulling me and my unbreakable hold right along with it.

My ass landed firmly in his lap.

I’d done it to keep him from taking the warmth away from me, so that I could have just a tiny bit more, but all of that went up in smoke when I felt his other arm come up around my hips and then circle my waist, holding me against him possessively, and suddenly, I was hungry for something else entirely.

Letting him go, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand but made no effort to climb off his lap. “Did I take too much?” I asked, watching as his throat moved up and down with a hard swallow.

“No,” he said as his fiery gaze met mine and then stayed there. “You were perfect.”

Heat pooled low in my belly as my eyes dropped to his soft, plush lips, willing them to kiss me, to claim me. To bruise and mark my body with his mouth and hands and teeth, but he didn’t move a single muscle. If we hadn’t been sitting so close together, I might have convinced myself that he didn’twant me, that this was all in my head, but I could feel his desire pressed up against my thigh.

He was clearly just as turned on as I was so why the hell wasn’t he doing anything about it?

“Do you want to feed?” I asked quietly, my voice ringing out with need. Maybe I just needed to be the one to initiate things—to let him know that I wanted it, too. That I still needed him.

His jaw tensed as something dark and wicked flickered through his eyes, but it was shuttered just as soon as it had appeared. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” he said as he started to withdraw his arm from around my waist.

The hell it wasn’t. It was the best idea I’d had all day.

“Don’t.” I grabbed his hand and kept it in place. “I want you to.”

His nostrils flared as his breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling at a slightly faster pace. Without taking my eyes off him, I gathered all my hair and pulled it over to one side and then leaned toward him, all but offering myself up on a silver platter.

A low rumbling growl vibrated deep in his chest and my pulse exploded in my ears and my neck, my skin practically singing with the thought of his lips on me again. His gaze was already glued to my neck, and I knew he was watching my pulse thump under the thin, fragile surface of my skin. I knew that it was beating in perfect time with my heart, and I knew that it was his favorite fucking sound.

And yet, he still wasn’t moving.

“What am I doing wrong?” I asked, trying to keep the hurt from my voice.

His eyes climbed back up from my neck with what looked like an immense amount of effort. “You aren’t doing anything wrong,” he answered, his voice sounding almost sad.

---