“I’m full.” I push his hand away.
He pops the remainder in his own mouth and chews.
“You eat regular food?”
“Often, although I prefer my meat rare.”
I file that away into things I didn’t know about shades and turn my attention back to the magazine in my hand. “So, without more proof, this doesn’t help us at all.”
“Unfortunately, no.”
A heavy black tangle forms deep within me. I hate Tony. I hate the legal system and the fact I’m probably going to lose this house. I’m so angry and frustrated I can’t think about it anymore. I fling Echo Mills Today across the kitchen.
Damien flashes me an empathetic look. “Little bird?”
“Are you ever going to call me by my real name?” I snap. His nickname for me hasn’t bothered me before, but after last night, I want more.
He wipes his hands on a napkin. “Do you want me to? Names are… personal.”
What an odd thing to think, but then I remember something. “Maeve told me they’ve always just called you the advocate.”
His chin bobs once.
“But you told me your name.”
“You asked, and I was obligated to respond to you as the bearer of the candle.”
My heart clenches. “Oh. So, you’d rather I call you the advocate.”
“No.” His expression grows serious. “I like when you call me Damien. Just you.”
I lean my elbows on the table. I want to hear him say my name, but I won’t force him. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do anymore, okay?”
“Okay.” His eyes tighten at the corners as if he finds this funny. I’m not trying to be funny.
“You have no choice, do you? Because of the curse.”
“Correct.”
“All right, then I command you to tell me if there’s something I ask you to do that you don’t want to do. That way, I can change what I ask you to do.”
This time his laugh is robust enough to show fang. “There’s no one like you, little bird.”
“You can leave if you want to,” I say. “Thank you for bringing me the magazine.” I wait. The clock on the wall ticks loudly enough that it reminds me of our first meeting. “You’re still here.”
“I want to be here.” His voice is so low and gritty I can barely make it out. His gaze drops to my throat, and I wonder if he’s hungry for my blood.
“Why didn’t you take my blood last night? You could have. I wouldn’t have stopped you.” I chuckle. “Honestly, you could have done anythingto me last night, and I wouldn’t have stopped you.” My face heats at the admission.
He swallows, then reaches over to cup my chin in his big rough palm. “What I did with you last night was not part of our agreement. And I didn’t take your blood because I didn’t want you to think that what happened between us was… transactional. Understand? It wasn’t related to your promise to allow the candle to burn. I wanted you. I wanted to taste you, and I loved giving you pleasure.” He licks his bottom lip, his gaze settling on my mouth.
The air charges between us, and I feel his stare deep within me. I lick my lips. “Hold on to the sides of your chair and don’t remove your hands unless I tell you.”
His brow knits, but he does as I command. I stand, grip the back of his chair, and lean over him until our foreheads touch. His lips part, but when he moves to capture my mouth, I rock back and reach for his belt. Shadows flit behind his stormy gaze, then drift off him to swirl around me. Once the gathering darkness might have frightened me. Now, the cool brush against my hot skin stokes a deep ache in my core.
I make short work of the button and zipper on his fly. Underneath, he’s hard and enormous. A hiss flows through his teeth as I palm his massive cock. He may be a different species, but his anatomy is warm, male, and weeping for me. I drop to my knees in front of him.
“What are you doing?” he grits out.
