“Go to bed, princess,” he demands, pressing his lips to my ankle. “Before you regret it.”
“I wouldn’t regret it,” I say. “Would you?”
His hand moves over my shin, down my thigh, and back up again.
“Eventually, yes, I would.”
I pull myself into a seated position, and I frown at him.
“Elliot, don’t tell me you don’t want to anymore. You and I both know that’s a lie.”
“No, believe me, baby, I want to. More than I should.”
“What does that mean? More than you should. Why shouldn’t you?”
“Iris…”
My name leaves his mouth in a desperate whisper, as if he’s pleading with me to stop. But I need an answer. Just one real answer.
“No, Elliot. Tell me why.”
“You don’t want this,” he says.
He’s wrong. I do want this. And I’m tired of pretending like I don’t. I’m tired of pretending like Elliot isn’t the only man I’ve ever wanted. And I’m tired of feeling hungry all the time. For once in my life, I’d like to feel full, and if anyone can sate me, it’s him. But I need all of him.
I draw up to my knees and rest my palms on his chest, feeling for the thump of his heart.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I do.”
He stays my wandering hands.
“No, baby. You don’t. You don’t want me. Not really. I’m…I’m empty inside. I’m cursed…”
My arms fold over my chest as he attempts to put some distance between us.
“You’re not the only monster here, Elliot. Your curse doesn’t scare me.”
“But it should.Ishould. You should be afraid of me. My wolf is dangerous. He knows no loyalties. I could never guarantee your safety.” He pauses, prying at his dampener. “The mere thought of hurting you…It makes me sick, Iris. If anything…”
His words trail off, and he crumples as he hangs his head.
There’s nothing more to say.
If anything happened…would he even mourn me?
My instinct says yes, I’m sure his says no, but I have no way of knowing who’s right.
I climb down from the bed to stand in front of him.
“Elliot, Iknowyou feel something?—”
“I feel nothing!” he shouts, tapping his chest. “Don’t you understand? There’s nothing here for you. I have nothing to give you.”
His words make me flinch, but I stand my ground.
“That’s not true. I know you feel something when you look at me. I can taste it.”
It’s not lust. Or desire. Or even need. Those, I’m familiar with. This tastes like something new. Something salted and rough. Hard to swallow.
