was under the lust spell of a succubus.”
“If you say so,” I mumble. “Personally, though, I’m kind of skeptical.”
“Of course you are because you don’t see yourself clearly. I however, can see you perfectly fine.” He unravels the strand of my hair from his fingers and moves back to examine me with his head slanted to the side. “Or well, I could if you’d lower your arms so I could take in the full effect of my awesome magic.”
Sometimes I wish I was more confident with stuff like this, like how I am when it comes to stealing. I’m not, though. I can feel it in my hesitancy to lower my arms. But reminding myself that East has already touched me in a lot of places, I uncross my arms and lower them to my sides, opening and flexing my fingers.
His sparkling eyes fleetingly scroll over me before his gaze collides with mine. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”
It’s weird when he asks me. When I first met him, I thought he’d be the kind of creature to steal kisses. But East has always been pretty careful with me, which makes it much simpler to nod.
The moment I do, he reduces the space between us and leans in, lightly brushing his lips against mine, giving me a soft kiss. At first, I think that’s all he’ll do as his lips hover above mine. But then he kisses me more intensely, his hand finding my cheek, his tongue tangling with mine. As he kisses me, he places his hand on my side and starts to back me toward the wall but stumbles. I grip onto his sides, my eyes widening as my back smacks against the wall. I’m shocked, not because it hurts, but because East movements are usually so much more controlled and graceful than this. Right now, though, he’s very riled up, his breaths rushing out of him as he leans back.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod, my own breathing uneven. “Are you?”
He nods, blinking a few times and for the slightest moment, his eyes turn into shadows. “Yeah. I just... I feel a little bit out of my element.”
My head is spinning in confusion. I’m about to ask him what he means, but he fuses his lips to mine and all other thoughts vacate my mind as his tongue parts my lips and sweeps into my mouth. I moan as his hands wander all over me, up and down my sides, gripping at the fabric to the point that it tears.
“Shit. Fuck. Shit,” he curses at the sound of the side of the dress tearing. His eyes are shut and his breathing is ragged. “I’ll fix that... In a minute... I just...” He kisses me again.
I clutch onto him in desperation. Only I’m unsure it’s my desperation I feel. No, I think it might be his. I’ve felt his emotions before, but he never explained why it happened. And the sensation faded to the point that I almost forgot it existed. Now, though, it’s returned full force and every single drop of what he’s feeling in this moment floods my body. Desire. Desperation. Fear.
Is he afraid of me?
He said he wasn’t, that what I am doesn’t scare him, and yet I can feel fear clawing inside him.
I pull back, gasping.
His eyelids shoot open. “What’s wrong? Did I push you too far?”
I shake my head with my lips pressed together. “No. I can just feel what you’re feeling again and I can tell...” I swallow hard, the truth of the aching against my tongue. “You’re afraid of me.”
His expression softens. “Sweetheart, that’s not what I’m afraid of.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m afraid of this.” With a bit of apprehension, he kisses me. “Of emotion.” He kisses me again. “Usually, I don’t feel much of anything.” Another kiss. “This is different... And I’m not sure how to handle it.”
Apparently, though, he decides that he should handle it by kissing me again, since that’s exactly what he does. He kisses me until I’m breathless, his hands returning to my sides, and his knee presses between my legs. I moan as I grind against his leg, and his body quivers as I reach around and stroke his wings. I wait for him to stop me like he always does, but this time that doesn’t happen. So I run my finger along his wings again, so soft and velvety.
He moans, his lips leaving mine and