“No,” I say plainly. “You can stare all you’d like. But you won’t be trading. I only feed Iris.”
“Is that so?” Isaac asks, more than a little doubtful.
It’s understandable. It’s not hard to see that I’m no angel. But after last night, I think I’d rather die than touch someone else. If Iris cuts me off, I’ll have no choice but to be celibate. Find a monastery somewhere willing to take me in, live out the rest of my days praying to the thought of her.
“Yeah,” I mutter in answer to Isaac’s skepticism. “See, it says ‘Property of Iris’ right here.”
I tap my forehead, and Isaac smirks, glancing at her. She is hiding a bright smile behind a book she’s picked up, and she swats me with it playfully.
“Elliot…” she whispers, scent heating with excitement.
I try not to groan as I breathe it in. Something tells me it wouldn’t bode well for me. Between Iris’s lust and Isaac’s hunger, they might actually tear me to pieces. But I take my chances as I lean down to place a kiss on her forehead. I know it’s done its job when I pull back and find the flush in her face has died down.
“Oh, I like him,” Isaac says, rising to his full height. “He can stay for dinner.”
I follow them, like some succubus pet, into a small dining room with a table already set for two. Iris grabs another place setting before gesturing at me to have a seat, which I do while nearly blind from lack of air.
My dampener has been slowly constricting with every step I take further into this house. Now, tucked away in the back, sitting in a quiet room with nothing to do but talk, I’m almost certain I will pass out. My hand finds her knee beneath the table as she settles beside me, and I squeeze in an effort to anchor myself to anything other than the itching pain around my throat.
“Are you okay?” she whispers the moment Isaac ducks out for more glasses. “We don’t have to stay. I just thought it would be nice to take a break.”
I shake my head. She’s right, it is nice. Or at least it should be. But the last time I was dragged to a family gathering against my will, someone bled out on the kitchen floor.
“I’m fine,” I say.
Her eyes narrow.
“Okay, no one’s allowed to say that anymore.”
She pats my hand as she leans in for another of her quick kisses, but it’s over before I can even register the feeling of her lips on mine.
“Are you upset with me?” I ask.
“No,” she says, brown eyes rounding with confusion.
“Then, stop doing that,” I demand, gripping her face and pulling her back in.
I kiss her until I can breathe again, then a little longer just because she lets me.
“Didn’t anybody tell you guys it’s rude to start eating before everyone has their food?”
Isaac’s voice interrupts my meditations, and we look up to him standing in the doorway holding a platter of meat. Iris picks up a roll from the table and lobs it at him. It hits him in the chest before bouncing back and rolling somewhere under the table. Isaac’s lip curls in response, a flash of red in his eyes as he sets the platter down.
“I’m glad to know I’m not the only one,” I mutter.
“Only one, what?” Iris asks.
“The only one you torture,” Isaac answers on behalf of us both.
She smirks and does a little shimmy in her chair, brushing her hair aside.
“Oh, please, your lives would be empty without me.”
“True,” Isaac says.
I only nod and hope she doesn’t notice.
I’m surprised to find that Isaac’s food is delicious. Not that I was expecting it to be bad; I just figured a succubus wouldn’t have much experience with cooking. But from the looks of it, this is nothing new to Isaac.
