Page 15 of The Darkest Gift

Elijah doesn’t react at all to my presence, and that’s what stops me mid-step. No flinch, no shift in his bound body, not even the slightest tilt of his head in acknowledgment. My gaze narrows, flicking over him as if those striking features of his will suddenly give something away. But it hits me then, sharp and satisfying, like piecing together the final part of a puzzle.

"Ahhh," I murmur, letting the realization glide off my tongue with indulgent delight. "On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… fun with sensory deprivation." A grin tugs at my lips as I turn back to Mason, who looks for all the world like a cat that’s just been given cream. "Two of his senses?"

"Naturally," Mason replies smoothly, his voice rich and warm, though there’s an unmistakable glint of mischief in his eyes. It’s all the confirmation I need.

"How long has he been like this?" I ask, stepping closer to Elijah now. The air in the room feels heavier here, charged withanticipation, the kind that prickles along my skin like static electricity.

"Since you left," Mason says, leaning back further into his chair, every inch of him exuding smug satisfaction.

I hum low in my throat, letting the sound vibrate between us as my gaze returns to Elijah. He’s utterly still, muscles taut beneath smooth golden skin. I let my eyes roam freely, drinking in every detail, every shallow rise and fall of his chest. He really is exquisite.

"Don’t worry," Mason adds lazily, as if reading my mind. "I did feed him. Then I had to clean him up again." There’s a weight to his words, layered with unspoken implications, and when I glance back at him, his expression is nothing short of wicked. Sinister amusement dances in his eyes, daring me to imagine just how much he enjoyed it.

"Of course you did," I reply, my tone dry but laced with affection. Mason’s grin deepens, and for a moment, I’m torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to smack that infuriatingly smug look off his face.

Instead, I turn my attention back to Elijah. Slowly, deliberately, I trace one pointed nail down the center of his chest, the motion light enough to tease but firm enough to leave a faint red line in its wake. His reaction is instant—a flinch, subtle but undeniable, rippling through him like an electric current before he forcibly reins himself in. His jaw tightens, his entire body going rigid as he shuts down whatever instinctive response I’d managed to provoke.

"Interesting," I murmur, my lips curving into a smile that’s equal parts pleased and predatory. "He’s trying so hard, isn’t he?"

"Admirably so," Mason agrees, his voice dripping with mock approval. "But we both know it won’t last."

I trail my fingers along Elijah's sculpted abdomen, feeling the muscles tense beneath my touch. His skin is warm, a light sheen of sweat glistening. I take my time, savoring each ridge and plane of his body.

"Has he been this quiet the whole time?" I ask Mason, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mason chuckles sinfully. "Oh no. He had quite a bit to say earlier. Didn't you, pretty boy?"

Of course, Elijah can't hear him. But I see the way his jaw clenches, the subtle flex of his biceps as he tugs against his restraints. He's hyper-aware of every sensation, every touch magnified in his darkened world.

Pulling out one of the earbuds I lean in close, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. "I bet you've been lonely without me here," I purr. "Did you miss me, Elijah?"

He turns his head slightly towards the sound of my voice. A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. "Terribly," he drawls. "The conversation's been rather one-sided."

I can't help but laugh, delighted by his persistent sass even in this vulnerable state. "Smart ass," I murmur, nipping at his earlobe, before putting the earplug back in.

My hands continue their exploration, skimming over his ribs, down to his hips. I trace the sharp cut of his hip bones with my nails, just hard enough to leave faint red lines in my wake. Elijah's breath hitches, his abs contracting as he fights to stay still.

"Tell me, darling," I call to Mason, though my eyes never leave Elijah's face. "Has our guest been... this responsive the entire time I was away?"

Mason's voice is rich with amusement. "Oh, quite. His cock has been hard on and off all morning. It doesn't take much to get him going."

As if to prove the point, I let my hand drift lower, fingers ghosting along the length of Elijah's semi-hard cock. It twitches under my touch, rapidly filling as I trace the prominent vein on the underside.

"Is that so?" I muse, wrapping my hand around him fully. I give him a few slow, teasing strokes. "How delightful."

Elijah's hips jerk forward involuntarily, seeking more friction. A low groan escapes him, quickly bitten off as he regains control. But I've seen the crack in his composure, and I intend to shatter it completely.

I release his cock, ignoring his frustrated huff. My hands slide back up his torso, fingertips dancing across his skin. When I reach his chest, I pause, circling one nipple with my thumb.

Without warning, I pinch it. Hard.

Chapter 10

Iris

Elijah's body jerks sharply at the sudden pain, a hiss escaping through clenched teeth. I smirk, relishing his reaction.

"Sensitive, aren't we?" I purr, twisting his nipple again. This time he can't hold back a groan.

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