Page 60 of Fighting My Demons

I love the way my real name rolls off his tongue, but I can hear the warning behind it. Latham unwraps my legs from around his waist before kneeling between mine. His face is covered in shadow, the light filtering in not quite reaching his face.

“Who is Myra?” I ask him, and he turns his head to the side, watching me.

“You whispered her name,” I tell him, and he scrubs a hand down his face.

“She was my first love.”

“What happened to her? You sounded sad, the way you said her name.”

“She died.” He pauses for a second, just watching my reaction. “She was human too.”

“She died of old age?”

Latham shakes his head. “No, I killed her.”

“You killed her?”I ask, not expecting that answer.

He nods, looking away. “You won’t suffer her fate. He won’t get to you as he did her.”

“He?” I ask, confused, though the idea of him killing her makes my stomach twist.

“Are you afraid of me?”

I shake my head at his question.

“You know I can tell when you lie.”

I chew my lip, unable to meet his gaze.

“If you don’t want the answer, don't ask. I won’t lie to you. I expect the same from you.”

“Do you want to kill me?”

“Do you really want to know?” he asks, and I look down at my hands, picking at my nails.

“We all want to kill you. It is instinct. That doesn’t mean we will. Myra died because I trusted the wrong person.”

“But you said you—”

“I killed her,” he whispers, cutting me off. “Because I did. I tried to bring her back. She wasn’t the same, so I had no choice but to kill her.”

“Who did you trust her with?” I ask when Blaine stirs beside me.

A sleepy smile plays on his lips, and Latham climbs off the bed, heading toward the bathroom.

“Morning,” Blaine whispers before kissing my lips. He smiles against my lips before grabbing the inside of my thigh and dragging me closer to him.

“Hmm…” He gnashes his teeth at my lips before nipping at my jaw, his hand trailing up my thigh to the apex of my legs, and I moan softly when his fingers brush my swollen lips, his fingers prodding gently while he nips and sucks my skin. I hiss when he works a finger inside me.

“Too sore?” he whispers against my breast before kissing my nipple.

Yet arousal coils within me and leaves me aching for him. He chuckles before moving between my legs, settling his weight over me.

“Blaine…” I breathe.

“I will be gentle,” he whispers against my skin as his lips travel down my body, nipping and sucking.

I can hear the shower running and sigh. I really want to know what happened to the woman Latham used to love, but that thought vanishes when I feel Blaine’s tongue run from my ass between my folds before flicking over my clit. My back arches, and I grip his hair.