Dex reached for the latte reflexively, his pulse patteringas if sayingrun, run, run. He was dying to see if Luc would chase him. Catch him. Make him tremble. But he couldn’t move. “Uh, thanks.”
Luc sat on the edge of the mattress next to Dex and discarded the tray on the floor, keeping the other coffee for himself. He wore a soft-looking red sweater. It was so normal. Dex could almost convince himself he’d woken with a human boyfriend and not the Devil, but he didn’t want to.
There was a complexity to Luc. He wasn’t simply an attempted killer or simply a kind man. Could he really be both? Luc’s concern for Dex’s grief couldn’t all be an act, and Dex didn’t want it to be. Luc’s care was part of the reason Dex was tempted to bring his fantasies to reality with him.
Dex had a strong urge to trust him.
Maybe the truth of Luc sat in between sweet and going too far, and that middle ground where care mixed with control and force was what Dex craved more than anything.
“How are you feeling?” Luc asked, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to the feelings warring inside Dex.
“I’m fine.” But he wasn’t, and he didn’t want to play pretend. Luc could be sweet if it were real, but they had to address everything else. Not ignore it.
Dex discarded his coffee on the crate. He either had to confront Luc or leave. Fuck.
Luc eyed Dex’s discarded coffee as if it had said something rude. “Would you like a muffin instead?”
“I’m not hungry,” Dex lied, his stomach twisting with more than one kind of hollowness. “I didn’t ask you to bring me anything to eat. Speaking of, you don’t need food, right? Just blood. How often do you drink from people?”
Luc set his coffee on the floor with the air of discarding a pretense, unless that was Dex’s imagination. “It depends. Once a week is more than enough.”
Oh shit. He answered. Dex forced himself to act casual, as if his heart wasn’t in his throat.
It wasn’t enough. He could ask polite questions and get equally polite responses all day, but he’d always wonder how a sweet man could be the Devil. His mind stuck on how the two came together, who therealLuc was, and if he was who Dex needed him to be.
Dex cleared his throat. “Who have you been feeding on? Are they still alive?”
Luc went as still as a statue, his sharp attention giving Dex chills.
Was he going to say nothing? Explode with rage? He clearly didn’t want to talk about this, and Dex was glad he’d asked.
At last, Luc spoke, calm and detached. “I’ve been feeding on random men, and yes, they’re all alive. Before I met you, I’d give them a little pleasure for their sacrifice, if they were interested.”
Something ugly congealed in Dex’s stomach. Was he fucking jealous right now? Why? Luc had saidbeforehe’d met Dex. But why would meeting him affect whether Luc got off with others or not? It was too much to take in.
Dex was stiff with growing tension. “Pleasure? Drinking from them doesn’t hurt?”
Luc remained unnaturally still, reminding Dex of a predator poised to pounce. “My bite can hurt if I want it to, or I can hypnotize my meals so they don’t know what’s happening.”
His meals. What a way to phrase it. As if the men didn’t matter any more than a muffin. Men that Luc got off with, even if they didn’t know what was happening.
Confusion throbbed in time with Dex’s headache. He couldn’t take another contradiction. “Why were you so against taking advantage of me last night if you do it all the time?”
Luc’s jaw seemed to tense, the muscles around his mouth twitching. “I don’t do it all the time. Only when I have to. Andit’s not the same. They always agreed to sex of their own free will. It’s the biting I did without consent. Without them even knowing.”
So, Luc’s refusal to take advantage of Dex wasn’t a contradiction. There were lines he wouldn’t cross. He fed because he had to, in the least traumatic way he knew how.
Possibility unfurled within Dex. He was all too aware of his own blood pulsing through his neck. “You didn’t have to feed last night? I offered myself to you. You could have done whatever you wanted.” Fuck, Dex’s core tightened at the prospect.
Something like a growl erupted from Luc. “What I want from you isn’t something I can take. I don’t want to hurt you.”
No, he didn’t. Dex believed him.
His breaths turned shallow, and he gripped the blanket, suddenly lightheaded. “You said biting wouldn’t hurt.”
Luc’s eyes flashed red. “Dex, what are you doing?”
He clutched the blanket tighter, his back rigid against the headboard. “W-what do you mean?”
