Chapter Seventy-Five #2
She gently laid the pad of her middle finger on his bottom lip.
The stranger’s breath hitched, and she saw every part of him still.
Curious and addled from the cake, the charm thickening in the air, causing a frenzy, she took her time, tracing his whole bottom lip from one end to the other.
She then did the same to the top, resting on his Cupid’s bow.
‘Beautiful,’ she breathed.
Someone jostled past in the crowd with a tray of wine goblets. ‘A drink, madam?’ The Asterian was dressed as a dragun, his eyes black. She paused, something strange nagging at the back of her mind, trying to break through.
She blinked, and the man’s face contorted into a scream, shadows spewing from it as he choked.
Merissa shouted, pressing back into the demon for reassurance, but yet again, when she blinked once more, the dragun man simply looked at her, a pleasant smile on his face as he waited with the tray.
The nagging came again—some kind of warning, she was sure of it. But Merissa was tired of rules, of thinking at all, actually.
She shook her head against the strange visions that kept appearing, blaming the cake, and took a cup greedily, raising it to her lips.
‘I think you’ve had enough,’ the demon behind her interjected, swiping it from her grasp.
‘I haven’t had a drop,’ Merissa replied indignantly.
The stranger cocked his head. ‘You had your cake. You certainly don’t need some of Sagitton’s wine.’ He raised the cup in the air in a mock ‘cheers’ before throwing the contents back himself.
She laughed. The sight was so funny to her, though she wasn’t sure why.
The stranger laughed with her, and the sound was beautiful and rich. She felt like she was sipping from his joy, from the ecstasy in the air. He pressed his hand to the small of her back.
‘Come,’ he said. ‘Let’s get you some air away from this crowd.’ He pointed down the street, where the lanterns were dimmer and further apart.
Merissa gave a nervous smile, looking back at the crowd. Normally, she would never have followed a stranger. She was always so cautious and careful.
Fuck it, she thought to herself. She rarely even cursed. But she liked that. Fuck it, she thought to herself again, smiling triumphantly as though she had done something monumental rather than just use a word that her friends used in every other sentence.
The demon was looking at her strangely, and she realized she’d said it out loud. Normally, she’d have felt embarrassed. Instead, she threw her head back and laughed.
‘Gods, it just feels so good,’ she said as he pulled her along. They slowed, a canopy of grapes above them decorated with cobwebs and small floating jack-o’-lanterns.
There was a stone bench, and Merissa suddenly wanted to lie on it. She did, draping her body over it as she looked back at the stranger.
‘What feels so good?’
‘Not caring.’ She stopped herself, raising a finger in the air. ‘Sorry, not giving a fuck.’
The stranger snorted. ‘You’ve definitely had too much charm.’
Merissa laid her head back, her eyes fluttering closed again as she felt the charm pound in her bloodstream. It was so mischievous, so delicious.
‘So you don’t usually have such a filthy mouth?’ he asked, standing over her. She smiled, eyes still shut.
‘Depends on your definition.’
She flicked her eyes open to gauge his reaction. Her own charm was completely out of control now, the one she desperately tried to tamp down every day. It swirled around the stranger and coated them both in that strange mix of seduction and sweetness that seemed to reside in her.
‘I think you’re trouble,’ he murmured.
Merissa grinned, lacing her fingers with his as she pulled him down on to the bench, moving her legs so he could sit.
‘Trouble is the last thing anyone has ever called me.’
The stranger’s lips quirked. ‘No, I bet you turn men to putty in your hands.’
She didn’t know what bravery possessed her. All she knew was the charm was giggling hysterically in her ear and that her own charm was encouraging her. ‘Do you want to find out? Do you want to make love to me?’ she asked.
The stranger inhaled deeply, his head falling back and his eyes closing.
Merissa rose and crawled forwards. It felt so blissful to just follow the movements of her body, to not ask herself what she was doing or admonish herself or compare herself to her mother or her brother.
She swung a leg over him, straddling him.
‘Make love?’ the stranger finally asked softly, a large hand snaking around her waist. ‘What happened to that filthy mouth?’
Merissa narrowed her eyes. ‘Okay,’ she replied, leaning closer. ‘Do you want to fuck me?’
The stranger exhaled sharply, his breath fanning down the column of her neck. His smile spread.
‘Say it again,’ he murmured, his hands tightening around her.
‘Do you want to fuck me?’
His eyes flicked to her lips as he wet his own. She pushed herself against him, tired of talking. She wanted to feel in this moment when she had no guilt, no shame. Before the charm wore off, before she became Merissa again.
She brought her face closer, mesmerized by those lips and the set of his jaw—the way he clenched it when she got closer suggested restraint. The man had a lot of it. And the cut of his lips was harsh, defined. Almost cruel.
She closed her eyes as she breathed in the moment. She had never felt so alive, drunk on charm and in the lap of a stranger.
‘How does it feel to demand what you desire for once?’ the demon murmured against her neck.
His nose trailed up to her ear, and she gasped, arching into his touch.
‘It feels…incredible,’ she breathed, pressing herself further into his lap.
She tipped her head, giving the stranger better access, but he simply trailed his nose back down her neck again, shuddering slightly.
His lips brushed against her pulse, and she felt the scrape of his teeth over the sensitive skin, setting her heart pounding.
‘Tell me a secret, little nymph.’
She paused, thinking of one that only her trusted few knew. ‘I’m cursed in love,’ she replied.
The stranger chuckled, pulling his mouth away from her. Merissa opened her eyes, catching the grin on his plush lips. She wanted to kiss them, had had enough of the teasing.
They looked at each other’s mouths a moment before she leaned in to kiss him.
A hand whipped out and caught her chin, stopping her.
Frustration rippled through her as she looked at him, but his eyes were fixed on her mouth. The mask was too dark to make out their true colour, but they seemed purple to her.
An alarm bell began to ring in her mind, but as quickly as she’d noticed his eyes, the worry disappeared.
There was less than an inch of space between them as he gripped her face. Merissa registered that his breath smelled like cinnamon.
They stayed like that. Minutes went by, just the two of them breathing each other in.
The stranger kept his eyes on her lips, the thumb that had been gripping her cheek dragging her bottom lip down.
She had never in her life felt such want.
She didn’t even know his name. And yet a fire was sparking through her entire body, an ache settling between her legs that she desperately needed to fix.
She rocked against his thigh, and the sensation was so delicious she couldn’t stop grinding herself against his trousered leg like an animal as her pleasure chased her.
As she dragged herself down him once more, she moaned out loud, and it seemed to break the stranger out of his stupor.
He brought his lips closer and, finally, Merissa thought, he was going to kiss her.
But instead, he whispered on to her lips, ‘I’ve done many, many awful things. But I’m not in the business of fucking women charmed out of their heads.’
He released her, pushing her off him as he stood, brushing down his clothes.
Shock doused Merissa like iced water, forcing the charm to shy away for a moment.
She thanked the Stars for it being there, though, for not letting her feel the embarrassment that would have consumed her if she had been herself.
‘What?’ she spluttered.
The stranger looked back at her once, reaching out a hand to her. He stopped at the last moment, curling it into a fist in the air.
‘I have to leave. Go and find your friends. And don’t go trying to fuck strange men you don’t know,’ he growled.
She frowned. ‘What is happeni—?’
‘I’ve spent too long here,’ he said, looking around the alley warily. Merissa noticed it had got darker, and something pressed on the outskirts of her mind, something important.
‘Too long?’ she exclaimed. ‘We’ve been together a matter of minutes.’
The stranger shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking off. ‘The green grapes, Amara, are the cure to the madness. The purple grapes will make it worse.’
Merissa looked at the canopy above them before jumping up.
‘But wait! I don’t even know your name,’ she called after him.
His laugh was dark as he threw his head back to look at her one last time.
‘You’ll know it soon enough.’