The Demon King of Lust

Chapter 37

I can't help but freeze at Kieran's words.

Did he really just tell me he loved me?

But he said it during sex, in the heat of the moment.

Does that mean he didn't mean it?

I pull the makeshift blindfold off him so I can look him in the eye.

"What did you just say?" I ask.

He blinks with a drowsy expression as he comes out of his post-orgasm stupor. Then his lids shoot open and his eyes widen.

"I, uh..." he says, swallowing hard. His eyes bounce from side to side like he wants to look anywhere but directly at me. "I was... I- I said I love fucking you."

I feel my heartbeat stutter and my stomach sinks.

"Oh... sure, yeah," I mutter.

Of course that's what he said. Did I really think the King of Lust had just confessed his love for me? Kieran told me himself—he's not a "love" kind of guy. Sure, he said we'd do the exclusive thing, but it's a huge leap from that to actually being in love with me. I'm the one expecting him to be someone he's not.

I feel foolish. I knew I'd end up fawning over a guy who could never feel the same way about me. And it fucking hurts.

I start to pull myself up and off of him, but he grabs my elbows and tugs me back down.

"You're so fucking important to me, Red," he says, holding eye contact. His eyes burn with emotion and I can't help but let it soothe me. "What you did—having my back with Victor—you have no idea how much that means to me. How much you mean."

Maybe he doesn't love me, but what he's saying is heartfelt and still meaningful. Maybe I don't need a specific word for what he feels, as long as he feels it.

I stare at him, trying desperately to use that empath gift I'm supposed to have.

What is he really feeling?

My instinct tells me he cares about me but he's holding back. Is it... fear I'm picking up on? But none of it makes sense and this feels nothing like any magical emotion-reading power. Maybe I'm just convincing myself of what I really want him to feel.

"Do you understand?" he asks, his voice soft and uncharacteristically serious. "You're... You're the most important person in the world to me. You're everything. I need you to know that."

It's not the exact words I wanted to hear, but the sentiment still has my stomach fluttering. If I'm everything to this man, then maybe that's enough for me.

*****

I stretch out on the mattress; my arms extend upward onto the pillows and my legs tangle in the top sheet.

Fuck I'm tired.

Not that it's all that unusual for a narcoleptic to be tired—if anything, it's kind of my brand. But last night really knocked the wind out of me. Between my confrontational phone call with Vic, the seriously intense sex with Kieran, and my mishearing his actually-not-really declaration of love, I'm exhausted. My eyes are dry and my veins feel like they're full of lead.

I hear the shower turn off and a moment later, Kieran steps out with a towel wrapped around his waist and another draped over his shoulders.

"Morning," he says with a soft smile. His eyes meet mine, but his gaze nearly passes through me; like his mind is a million miles away.

If I weren't such a lousy excuse for an empath, this is where I could probably use my supposed superhuman powers to tell what he's feeling, but I have no idea how. It probably doesn't help that I don't even know what I'm feeling. If I can't even get my own emotions straight, there's no chance I can figure out his.