Page 13 of The Devil and His Sparrow

Music thrummed in the dim space. Iyla and I stood opposite each other, our gazes locked in a silent challenge of what to do now that we were alone.

I sat my whiskey on the floor where she had placed her water earlier and pushed off the wall. “Wanna dance with me?”

She quickly held up her hands and shook her head. “Oh. Oh, no. You don’t want to dance with me. I don’t get out much, so I’m not very good at it.”

“There’s no one here but you and me. No one to judge you or to critique your dancing. I know I certainly won’t.”

“Wicked Games” by The Weeknd flared to life over the speakers as I stalked closer to where she stood in place. I slowly walked around her, passing her side and coming around to her back, making sure to keep only a centimeter of space between her skin and mine. I wanted to get close, making her body painfully aware of me, but not giving it the satisfaction of touching.

Not yet.

I stopped behind her, and even over the music, I heard her quick intake of breath as I leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Just let the music guide you. Let it make your hesitation disappear. Let me make it disappear. Dance with me, Iyla.”

The song pulsed around us, and I eagerly waited to see if I’d gotten her yet. Had I convinced her to take this one little step that would lead to many more? A small dance that would lead to my cock filling her up later? My entire body practically buzzed with the need to feel her skin, but I was a patient Incubus. I’d wait until she gave in and made the step herself.

Her response was nearly drowned out in the beat of the song, but I heard it with my entire being. “Okay.”

I smiled.

Good fucking girl.

Chapter 5

Iyla

I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT COMPELLED me to say yes. Maybe it was because I was alone in this dark room with a sensual song playing and a hot guy giving me attention that I’d never had before. Maybe it was because I was bored and looking for something to do while I waited on Nahla to have her fun. Maybe it was because Nahla kept encouraging me through happy whispers to let loose this one night, doing whatever I wanted. Maybe it was because in this little room with just Zagan and I, a little secret dance couldn’t hurt anything.

Or maybe it was because I desperately wanted to feel his hands on me. Just for a second. I wanted to take this fleeting chance to simply see for myself what it felt like to be touched and held by someone. And I wanted to see if it was as wrong as my mom always made it out to be.

Now was my chance to do that.

Besides, ever since I’d walked into this house, I could practically feel his attention as though he were actually brushing up against me. It had me restless, nervous, and excited. I wanted to know if his actual touch felt as good as his gaze alone.

And it wasn’t like I was having sex with him.

It was just a harmless dance.

He stepped into me, and my skin electrified with the weight of his torso pressing into my back. My breath hitched with an onslaught of nerves and something sharper. Brighter. Hotter. My eyes fluttered shut as he placed his hands on my hips and slowly started to sway to the beat of the song. I felt his head dip closer to mine, his warm breath on the shell of my ear making goosebumps break out over my skin.

The beat of the music thrummed beneath my feet, and it shot through me as Zagan pressed closer. His hands felt good on my hips—warm, strong, and steady. I found myself secretly wondering what they’d feel like if they moved a bit higher or lower. If having them firmly in place on my waist made me feel this hot, this light, this good, what else could they make me feel?

My body moved against Zagan’s broad form, almost as if I were on autopilot and just letting the hedonic song and druglike-inducing effects of his touch guide me. His hips rocked, and I pushed back into him, moving with his guidance. His hands coasted up my sides, making my stomach tighten with a fresh wave of sickly sweet heat. They glided up my curves, his fingertips nearly brushing the edges of my breasts, before trailing down my arms. He grabbed my hand, and with ease, he stepped back and twirled me around to bring me face to face with him.

My breath got lost in my chest as my eyes locked onto his. A wide grin spread over his lips, and I couldn’t fight the urge to glance at them, imagining how they’d feel pressed on mine. Wondering what those two silver rings on his bottom lip would feel and taste like.

Seeking a distraction from my dangerous thoughts, I met his gaze again and asked, “Do you dance a lot?”

“All the time,” he answered, draping my arms around his shoulders. “Do you?”

I shook my head, continuing to move with the beat. “No. I’ve always admired people who could dance, but I haven’t had many opportunities to try it myself.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” he drawled, amusement lacing his words. “Let me teach you some stuff.”

He pulled me flush against him and placed one hand on my lower back. My entire being sparked as his other hand gripped the back of my thigh, right beneath the hem of my skirt. The warmth of his palm against my bare flesh made my heart thunder harder than the music and sent a dizzying sensation sweeping through my body.

“Lean back,” he whispered against my ear.

At the same time that he gave me directions, he hooked my leg over his hip and dipped me low before slowly circling me around and back up against him.

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