Page 70 of Tortured Soul
Straddling one of them, both of his hands fisted on the mattress next to my exposed hips, there was no way he didn’t notice the heat that was suddenly radiating from me. I could only pray that it wasn’t accompanied with a huge amount of pheromones.
“Say something,” he breathed out, his eyes searching mine, completely oblivious to the turmoil happening inside my mind.
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
The corners of his lips quirked up in a small smile.
“How about you start by telling mewhyyou’ve let your Nephilim mate fall to madness?”
Offuckingcourse that’s what he would ask.
“You’re seriously asking me about another man while two inches away from kissing my lips?” I asked in desperate hope to avoid the subject.
His small smile turned to a full on grin.
“Would you rather I kiss you?”
Would I? Yes. Anything but give him that answer. I felt guilty enough, I didn’t need him to resent me for it too.
“The way I see it, there are two possibilities for you right now,” he whispered, so close that I could feel his words against my skin. “You can either answer the question, or make sure I don’t get to ask it again.”
A small gasp escaped my lips, bringing into my nose and lungs the strong smell of cinnamon I’d been trying to avoid.
“Are you blackmailing me?”
He chuckled, the amused expression reaching his eyes. “I’m giving you two options that play to my advantage while respecting your wish that I don’t touch you myself. Be careful if you choose to answer the question, I’ll probably have follow up ones to ask you.”
His nose brushed mine and I shivered, feeling a small burst of energy tickling my face.
“And it’ll be too late for the easy way out if—”
In a second, his voice was replaced by a soft groan as my mouth opened against his and my nails dug in the back of his head, pulling his face closer to mine. His whole body tensed above mine when my tongue caressed his bottom lip, delighted in his taste.
Cinnamon.
Howunsurprising.
But,oh, so delicious.
I couldn’t help but pull on his hair as he kissed me back like a man starved. Like kissing me gave him his first inhale of breath after suffocating for years.
His tongue finally met mine and, no matter that my eyes were closed, I gasped from the blinding light that appeared behind my lids. From the electricity that seemed like it was running under my skin from my fingertips, my lips, the tip of my nose.
Every place where we connected.
Wewere both panting when I pulled back, not letting go of his head between my hands. The veins of his arms were visible from the force he used to keep his hands fisted against the mattress, as if to prevent them from trying to reach for me.
“I need you to tell me something,” he rasped, before swallowing audibly.
I groaned in frustration. “I’m not—”
“Something else,” he interrupted. “You never answered my question in the archives. Why do you hide your ears?”
I stared at him, my eyes searching his. Searching for the reason he wanted to know.
I found none.
“Because when people know that I’m the first of my kind, they expect high things from me. They expect me to be the best Succubus that exists.” I paused. “I’m not. I’m a mediocre one. I’m the Succubus Archdemons were fighting to get in their tie, only to realize that my powers were bridled and that I had an attitude problem. That I hated being what I am and that I was doing the bare minimum to get by. That I was notworthanything.”
