Page 37 of Cursed

I drew out every gasp, every moan she tried to swallow down, fed on each whimper that slipped past her desperate lips until I could hardly stand it. The sight of her hunched form clinging helplessly to the glass was driving me to madness.

“You need this so much, don’t you?” I didn’t wait for her answer. Not that she could give one between desperate gasps and weak whimpers.

Then I flicked my wrist sharply and my magic surged forward in a heavy wave. Avril cried out, her whole body stiffening before trembling violently as ecstasy claimed her completely.

“There—” I murmured, husky from my own unfulfilled arousal. As the rush of her high began to ebb and Avril straightened and leaned against the tiles, I reeled my magic back in. It swirled around my fingers like a pet serpent before dissipating into the thick steam of the bathroom. My body screamed its protest, yearning for release as well, but the game was only half-played.

Avril was panting hard now and her breath hitched in sputtering gasps, and I knew she was still riding on the aftershocks of her climax. I let her recover for a bit, observing how she clung to the cool glass for support while her body trembled from the strength of her apex.

She must have been able to hear my chuckle, and Avril twisted her head toward me. Her pale hazel eyes burned into mine through the steam-smeared pane. Anger and pleasure mixed seamlessly in them.

“Hurry up,” I called out. “I’ve got things to do.”

I walked out of the bathroom and ignored Avril’s furious growl.

The grimoire lay on the floor, locked tight.

If she’d opened it, it had been by accident. I knew that much for sure.

I walked around it and then crouched down.

I remembered the day Lucian had laid the grimoire in front of me—and how long it had taken me to open it.

The torment I’d endured.

The torment we’d all endured to discover its secrets.

But why had he given it toher?

The rush of the shower snapped off, and I plucked the book gently off the floor, straightened, and held it gently in my hands.

“What are you doing?” Avril’s voice held an edge of accusation, but I didn’t look at her as I turned toward her vanity.

“Get dressed,” I said. “Hurry—”

She muttered a curse, and I couldn’t help but smile at her anger.

She really was pathetic.

It was part of her allure.

Part of what drew us to her.

She dashed by me, wrapped in a towel, and I paused long enough to watch her dart into the closet. She was only in there for a moment, but her frustrated grunts as she dressed were highly amusing.

When Avril emerged, I couldn’t help staring.

The cashmere sweater dress she’d chosen slipped off one shoulder, and her legs were bare.I was supposed to focus on a grimoire filled with incredibly dangerous magic—while she was barely dressed?

Fuck.

I might have bent this book to my will once before—but it was years ago, and as I laid my hand on the cover and felt its familiarly malevolent vibration, I sensed immediately that I wouldn’t be able to control it. It had forgotten me—and grown stronger—in the years since I’d seen it last.

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing,” I replied and then gestured at the vanity. “Clear it off. Get all that shit out of the way.”

Without hesitation, Avril snatched the waste basket off the floor and pushed everything on the surface into it. Her cheeks were flushed, and a few tendrils of auburn hair had escaped the haphazard knot on the top of her head and clung to her cheeks and forehead.

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