Page 174 of Magic of the Damned

He leaned down, whispering against my ear, “We should talk.” The warmth of his breath against my ear, his lips brushing against it, and the commanding hold he had on my waist was firm but not overpowering, an odd comfort. I couldn’t pull my eyes from his when they connected with mine again, stirring the spectrum of complex and intense feelings I hadn’t resolved. The weight of his gaze bore down, and I saw hints of what I was experiencing mirrored in his eyes. He kept them on me as he spoke to Emoni. “To the left of the hallway, there is a sitting room with a balcony that overlooks the garden.” It was his indirect way of asking her to leave. She got the hint and ignored it.

“Where’s the panther?” she asked.

Dominic canted his head at the enigma that was my friend, who’d discarded any sense of self-preservation in lieu of satisfying her curiosity, and was exhibiting intrigue and wariness in her question.

“It is probably best to go to the sitting area,” Anand urged in an uncompromising tone, having arrived with the stealth and silent grace that allowed him to be unnoticed until that moment.

Emoni and I startled at his sudden presence, but Dominic wasn’t surprised.

Anand nudged his chin in the direction of the sitting room.

“I’d like to view the library and then the garden, since I’m being asked to leave,” she countered. “And where’s the prison?”

“We’ll go to the library and garden.” Anand changed course toward the stairs. “Not the prison. I’ve gathered that you are quite persistent. Let me assure you that you’re not more than I am. We have our itinerary, and there won’t be any deviations from it.” His deep chuckle came in response to Emoni’s sneer.

Dominic’s fingers laced through mine as he guided me to his bedroom. Closing the door behind me, he led me to the sofa. Pulling me into his lap, he cradled me against his chest. “I should not have said that to anyone before I said it to you.”

“It’s fine.” The public declaration was undoubtedly as shocking to him as it was to me.

“It’s not fine for me. I wanted to tell you. Should have told you earlier in a more fitting moment than you behind a ward, afraid for your life and once again a tool in a situation not of your making. My father needed to understand the gravity of my feelings and that it drives the decisions I make and the actions I take. Your life and safety aren’t up for compromise.”

The warmth of his body and words was alluring, but I had a longing to see his face as he said them. Turning to face him, my legs astride, I ran my fingers over the pronounced angles of his jaw and the determined lines of them.

“Say it just to me,” I asked softly.

The sharp intensity in his eyes gradually subsided, replaced by a gentle, tender expression that he reserved for me. The quiet longing was evident in his gaze, concealed behind an aura of danger, cool disposition, and casual arrogance that I’d observed during our first meeting.

Leaning into me, in a hushed murmur, he confessed.

“I love you.”

It felt like a caress without any expectation of it being returned.

That’s what urged the words to spill from me with ease.

“I love you, too.”

It was the second time I’d ever declared my love to a man. I tried not to make the comparison of Jackson’s pronouncement that came weeks after I’d said it to him. It wasn’t a declaration of his affections of love but rather a surrender.

I adored Dominic’s confession and wanted to hear it again. But before I could make that request, he drew me closer with gentle yet commanding touches. The power of magic crackled in the air and moved around me. I’d never untangle magic and Dominic’s sensual touch as his hand slipped under my shirt, kneading at my skin, sending rushes of heat through me. The world and its problems momentarily faded into insignificance.

Our lips met in a gentle touch before escalating to a fervent storm. A kiss that spoke of all the emotions and things we hadn’t explored. His lips were infused with fiery need and a craving I wanted to satisfy.

Our bodies melded together, him hardening under me. Heavy lidded when he pulled away, half-smiling at my soft pants, he murmured, “When will you move in with me?”

“What…why…what?” I stammered. The words doused me like a splash of cold water.

His chest rumbled from his laughter. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a what?” I shook my head.

He nuzzled against my neck, jaw, and against my hair, accentuating the touches with soft kisses and nips along my neck.

“Little Luna,” he growled in a low husk.

He pulled away, resting back against the sofa. All humor and levity was gone from his face, a dark cast of concern in its place. “You’re far more careful with your residence than your life. Why would you agree to be used as a lure for Ophelia?”

I knew that topic would resurface, accompanied by a lecture in some form.

---