Page 102 of The Devil and His Sparrow

“I love it!” she cried as her own hips shifted to meet each of my thrusts. “God, I love it!”

I let go of her tit and reached up to fist her hair tightly. She whimpered as I pulled on it, stretching her neck as far as it could go. “Say the words. Say what it is you love.”

Her breath heaved around another moan as my dick touched sweet places inside her. Finally, she screamed, “I love it when you fuck me with your cock!”

I smiled. “That’s fucking right.”

She tightened around my shaft, and her body shook as her orgasm crashed through her. My own skin burned with the mounting pleasure, rushing through me to settle where my dick pushed in and out of her hard and fast. I continued rubbing her clit, despite her squirming against my touch to her now-sensitive bud. I pulled her hair harder as my release got closer and closer until finally, I spilled myself inside her tight hole.

I was hot and full—full of her pleasure and full of my own satisfaction.

But I was also just getting started.

Chapter 32

Iyla

I’D NEVER HAD SUCH AN amazing week. Zagan’s surprise birthday trip was followed by finals and the end of the semester, which meant, come spring semester, I’d officially be working toward my dream. Gemma was on the rise health-wise thanks to Zagan’s consistent small doses of blood, and I was finally playing the piano again. For once, I felt good about life.

Even now, my smile wouldn’t disappear, despite stumbling over some notes as I practiced Bach’s, “Prelude No. 1.” There was a certain lightness filling my chest that had never been there before, and as I finished out the piece without any more mistakes, I realized it was hope.

Hope for my sister.

Hope for my dreams.

Hope for what the future had in store for me and the demon who’d changed me.

“You’ve gotten better.”

I looked at the entryway to the ballroom where Zagan leaned against the doorframe. I drank in the sight of him in his dark jeans and long-sleeved gray shirt, and my mouth naturally watered at the attractive sight of his tattooed hands and pierced flesh.

“Thank you,” I beamed. I closed the lid and stood from the piano bench. “Did you finish working on the song?”

He’d been finalizing the details of a song he’d been working on for the past couple of weeks, and I took his presence now to mean that he’d finally completed it.

He offered me a smile of his own and answered, “I did. I thought I could play it for you once we got back from visiting Gemma.”

I practically bounced the rest of the way to him, equally excited to see my sister and hear Zagan’s new song afterward. I’d been swamped after getting back from New York, then focusing on finals, so I hadn’t seen Gemma since the party. Now, I couldn’t seem to get to Bloomings fast enough, grabbing Zagan and pulling him after me toward his car.

The moment we stepped inside Bloomings, something felt off. A sixth sense flared to life and picked up on something I couldn’t yet see. Unease pricked at my insides like frost slowly encasing them. The bustle of activity carried a bit more urgency, and the whispers were like nails grating on a chalkboard. I spotted Noya coming out of Gemma’s room, and the moment our eyes met, I just knew.

There was a split second when I froze where I stood, just holding Noya’s sympathetic eyes. Then terror collided into me like a meteor crashing into earth, and I ran down the hallway, deaf to Noya and Zagan’s voices. My heart beat furiously until I stood in Gemma’s room. The pounding in my temples stopped as quickly as it had started so that all I could hear was the slow beep of her heart rate monitor. My breath cut off in my throat.

I stood just inside the doorway and stared at my sister, who looked nothing like the last time I’d seen her. Gone was the peachy warm flush to her skin, the shine to her auburn hair, and the utter bliss in her smile. Her eyes were shut, and her dark eyelashes stood out against her gray skin, which appeared sunken beneath her eyes and on her cheeks. Her brown hair was spread out on her pillow, thin and muted in color. Her gown had slipped down, giving me a view of her sharp collar bones protruding through her skin like her body had suddenly shriveled up. A nasal cannula sat across her face, giving her extra oxygen through her nose, and an IV drip currently poured something into her through the IV in her hand.

“G-Gemma?” I croaked.

This couldn’t be real. I was in a nightmare. It was the only explanation, because this … She …

I took a step toward her, but the moment I moved, my knees gave out. Zagan grabbed me at the same moment, falling to the floor with me. My wide, tear-filled eyes met his, and I gripped his arm with every bit of strength I had left and whispered, “What happened? Why …”

I’d never seen the look of utter disbelief and fear on Zagan’s face, yet he wore the expression now as he swallowed. “It … my blood …”

He didn’t have to finish. I knew what he was trying to say.

His blood hadn’t worked.

And now, her illness was catching up to her.

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