Chapter 21
CURIOSITY AND THE CAT
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, SUYIN LAY AWAKE IN HER BED, staring at the ceiling. Her bedroom was directly below Murmur’s, and she couldn’t help wondering … was he up there now? Trying to sleep and failing as she was?
When she’d returned to her rooms after what happened in the library, she’d found another pile of food waiting on her bed.
Murmur had sent someone to get her more supplies before she’d even had a chance to ask.
Or maybe he’d told the demon to replenish her stash whenever it ran low.
Either way, it showed a level of thoughtfulness she hadn’t expected from him, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.
She couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d looked above her, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire, his snow-white hair falling like a curtain around them.
And she’d confirmed it this time: There was nothing cold about him when he kissed her.
Maybe he was normally cold to the touch, but when he was turned on, he was like a furnace.
The heat of his body seared through her clothes to her bare skin, making it burn with desire.
She wasn’t even trying to lie to herself anymore. She was wildly attracted to a mad necromancer demon. She wanted him. Badly.
But she’d still left when he gave her the chance.
She may have given up on denying her attraction, but that didn’t mean she had to stop fighting it.
She had to fight it. She’d never been religious, despite knowing of the existence of Heaven and Hell.
In her mind, it was actions and intentions that determined a person’s worthiness for Heaven.
It had nothing to do with how many lifeless sermons they sat through.
But surely, having sex with a demon was a surefire way to doom a soul.
Then again … Iris was doing it.
Suyin smacked a palm to her forehead. She couldn’t be that person who got kidnapped, taken to Hell, and then fucked her captor within an inch of his immortal life. Over and over. For hours. On the table. On the floor by the fire. In his bed. In her bed.
With a groan, she rolled over, facing the red sky outside. A moment later, she rolled back the other way. She rolled one more time before blowing out a breath and sitting up with a jerk. Fuck it. She was way too restless to sleep right now.
Climbing out of bed, she pulled on leggings, a hoodie, and a pair of warm socks, not bothering with shoes.
She tiptoed out of her bedroom and climbed the stairs.
Murmur’s floor was quiet, the hall torches extinguished.
In the distance, faint howling could be heard from god knew where, but otherwise, all was quiet.
She started down the hall toward the library’s double doors at the end, only to stop outside the doors to Murmur’s room. She stared at them.
Choosing to stop things earlier had been a rare moment of clarity. She needed more moments like that, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to find them in Murmur’s bed. The worst thing she could do would be to bring sex with her captor into the already incredibly complicated picture.
So why was she standing there, staring at his closed door? And why was her heart suddenly racing with excitement?
The subtle creaking of his bedroom door opening pulled Murmur out of the mire of his thoughts.
He wanted to say he’d been mulling over his many complex plans, double-checking every aspect of his spell, but in reality, he’d been replaying the moments with Suyin in the library.
How her body felt under his, the way she’d looked at him with so much desire in her eyes.
As such, he sensed her presence immediately.
He stilled, listening with every fiber of his being. Tiny footsteps padded across the floorboards, and he found himself holding his breath.
She stopped at his side, her form a dark outline in the shadowed room. The window drapes were drawn, and only the faintest hint of red glow escaped around their edges. It wasn’t enough to properly light her features, but he could still see her eyes on him.
He turned his head on the pillow to meet her gaze. He didn’t try to pretend he was asleep.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said into the dark.
“I know.” She spoke with a resignation that told him she knew exactly what she was getting into. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Neither could he.
He sat up, and with one rapid motion, he wrapped his hands around her waist and flung her down onto the mattress.
He rolled over top of her, and the sheet that had been covering his naked body tangled around him in a way that normally would’ve made his skin crawl, but he was too distracted to care.
Gripping her wrists, he pinned them down on either side of her head so she wouldn’t try to grab him again.
He’d expected her to let out a cry, for that apprehension to seep into her expression once more, for her to struggle to escape.
But she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she relaxed in his hold. She didn’t pull at her wrists. Her body didn’t squirm with discomfort. She let him pin her down. She gave him control.
They watched each other in the darkness. This close, he could make out her features clearly, those sharp eyes peering up at him with expectation.
“I gave you a chance to leave,” he reminded her. “You took it.”
“I know.”
He arched a brow. “So what do you think you’re doing now?”
She took a breath and seemed to be building up to something. Then she whispered, “I changed my mind.”
Part of him wanted to push her away—she’d had her chance, so why should he give her another? Another part wanted to descend upon her with savage ferocity, to slake the desire that had been building since the first moment he’d touched her.
Still another, twisted part wanted to make her suffer. To punish her for doing this to him, for making him feel this way. He’d never asked for this.
He leaned in, running his mouth lightly over hers. Her head tipped back, and her lips parted. He did it again, and her breath gusted out. He trailed his mouth along her jaw toward her ear, and he felt her tremble beneath the grip he still had on her wrists.
When he reached her ear, he growled softly into it, “I don’t give second chances, Suyin.”
He intended to push off of her and demand she leave. He intended to do anything to maintain the upper hand.
But the witch beat him at his own game. Again.
Before he had a chance to pull away, she turned her head sharply, and their mouths collided. The softness of her lips against his, moistened by her tongue, stole his awareness.
That quickly, he was lost. He forgot all about his plans and his pride, all too eager to forget himself in her.
He kissed her with a desperation that infuriated him, so he poured that into the kiss too. Her tongue reached out, seeking his, and they tangled together. Twisting, stroking, thrusting.
He released her wrists, wanting to touch her. Her hands immediately went into his hair, the strands slipping between her fingers as she clenched her fists against his scalp.
Immediately, he froze. “No.”
She stopped, lowering her arms back to the mattress. “Let me touch you.”
“No.”
“Why?”
He ignored her question, dropping his head and dragging his mouth along her tender throat, imagining sinking his teeth into it.
“Murmur …” She moaned as he bit down lightly on her throat, careful not to break the skin. “I want to—”
“Take this off,” he growled, fisting the fabric of her hoodie. He wanted to touch more of her, taste her bare skin.
She started to sit up, and this time he let her move, leaning back as she worked the material over her head. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath—no undershirt or bra. He liked that.
His gaze wandered over her bare upper body. Her breasts were small, her nipples dark, her skin supple. She looked vulnerable like this … until he looked into her eyes. There was nothing vulnerable about the hungry way she watched him.
He reached for her, and their mouths met once more. She gripped the sheet still caught around his hips, trying to pull it away, but he caught her wrists and pulled back with a warning look.
“Let me touch you,” she panted.
He searched her face. Was he going to allow this? For so long, he’d despised even the lightest sensation of being restrained, and that included another’s hands on his skin. His bedsheet ended up on the floor more often than not because he couldn’t stand the feel of it wrapped around his legs.
Even now, so long after his time as Paimon’s prisoner, the feeling of being shackled in any way sent him into a cold sweat, the old memories crawling out of some dark inner hovel to haunt him.
But … this was Suyin. And he wanted to know what it would be like to let her touch him. He wanted it badly.
Slowly, he released her wrists, holding his open hands above hers for an extended pause and giving her a warning look. If she pushed him too far, he would retaliate.
Logically, he knew there was nothing she could do to him that he couldn’t stop immediately. There was no way she could overpower him. But this aversion wasn’t logical; it was psychological. And if there was one enemy Murmur couldn’t defeat, it had always been his own mind.
As Suyin pulled the sheet aside, his hand dove into her hair, tangling with the silky strands.
He tightened his hold, drawing her head back.
With his other hand, he gripped her jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into her soft cheeks, though he was careful not to cut her with his claws.
She was so small compared to him, he had to be careful.
She moaned as he kissed her again, but her little hands didn’t stop until they wrapped around his hard shaft. It was his turn to moan. Fucking hell, that felt incredible. How had he gone so long without this?
He lost control of their kiss as she stroked his shaft with a firm grip, and he could do nothing but breathe against her lips. His head spun with pleasure.
“Lie back,” she whispered.
He shook his head mutely, too lost in the movement of her hands to form words.