Chapter 20

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For a moment I'm just looking into Cupid's eyes, his face a mere breath away from mine. Every sense in my body feels heightened, everything feels more intense – the lure of his body heat, his scent of cologne and perspiration, the way that the dim light from my table lamp highlights golden flecks in his ruffled hair.

He doesn't feel like talking.

My stomach clenches at the intensity of his gaze.

There's a part of me that thinks we should talk – we should talk about Valentine, about the cupids that attacked me, about how there's still a part of me that wonders if I can fully trust him.

But the other part of me just wants to kiss him. I think a part of me always wants that. If I'm honest I think it's been like that since the first moment saw him, back in class on that first day – though it took me a while to admit that to myself.

My pulse is racing as, very slowly, he moves even closer. I'm not sure if there's something within me that is being drawn toward him, or whether physically my body is pulled to his by the dip in the mattress where he lies. But I find that our legs are touching, and my hand, seemingly of its own accord, reaches out to touch his chest. He breathes in sharply.

We should talk the voice inside of me that's saying it is quieter – drowned out by the thudding of my heartbeat that fills my ears. I can feel his heartbeat too, through his grey top – fast, excited, vulnerable.

His eyes darken as I look up at him.

And then, very softly, he brushes his lips against mine.

My mouth parts in response, and my body seems to melt into him. My stomach clenches. His fingers slip into my hair, as slowly he moves his mouth against mine. He slides his hand down to the small of my back, my skin tingling through my pajama top at every spot that he touches, and he pulls me closer to him. A groan escapes from his lips as I slip my tongue against his.

As we continue to kiss his breathing becomes heavy, ragged, yet still his mouth moves slowly – as though he's exercising some restraint, as though he's trying to control himself. The day-old stubble on his face brushes softly against my skin – a different sensation than I'm used to - and as his hot kiss deepens my pulse races. I feel like my veins are filled with fire.

I don't know how long we do this for, our mouths moving against each other with increasing ferocity, my fingers gripping onto the front of his shirt as though I'm afraid to let him go. All I know is that I don't want to stop. I feel like I did when we were trapped in the labyrinth, when Lust took over us. Only there's no supernatural force at work here, there's only us. Me and him. Our bodies melting into each other, his strong hand planted possessively on my hip, his thumb brushing against my bare skin where my pajama top has risen up slightly.

He rolls me onto my back leaning over me as he continues to explore my mouth with his tongue. Gently I nibble his bottom lip and he groans against my face.

Then suddenly he wrenches away. His chest is moving up and down quickly as he seems to try and calm down his ragged breathing.He looks down at me – his eyes dark with passion, but something else too. Vulnerability? Sadness? 

My breathing is fast.

I reach up and touch his flushed cheek. His skin burns beneath my fingers.

"Cupid?" I say quietly. "What is it?"

He shakes his head, ruffling his hair. He gives me a half smile, his eyes unmoving from mine.

"Nothing," he says – his voice lower than usual, more throaty. "Nothing. Everything is perfect. You're perfect."

The look flashes across his eyes again – it's filled with longing.

"I'm not perfect, Cupid," I say gently. "No-one is perfect."

"Well, you're pretty close," he says.

He smiles.

Softly he kisses my forehead, then my nose, then my mouth. And then he pulls away and rolls back onto his pillow. I turn on my side to look at him. My breathing is still fast, and disappointment mixes with the fire that still burns through my veins. Why isn't he still kissing me?

"You sure you're OK?" I ask.

The heat from his body still washing over me. Though he's just inches away, it feels too far.

He looks like he's going to say something then closes his mouth. He smiles, "I'm fine. But I'm supposed to be here to protect you," he says, "and I have to say I'm finding your lips pretty distracting." He moves closer to me again and gently nibbles my bottom lip – causing my stomach to clench deliciously - before pulling back. He sighs heavily, and when he speaks I hear the strain in his voice, "You should get some sleep."

I look at him. Then I remember what he said earlier.

"Hmmm. I'm not sure I feel like sleeping," I say.

He looks at me a moment, his dark brows rising with surprise. Then, very slowly, a grin broadens on his face. There's a teasing gleam in his irises, mixed with the passion that he seems to be struggling to quell.

"Oh no? What do you feel like doing?"

I move closer to him, then gently brush my lips against his. He groans against my mouth.

"See?" he says, "This is what I'm talking about. Very distracting."

He puts a hand on my cheek and looks into my eyes.

"Those cupids could be out there, Lila," he says. "I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you. I need to keep a lookout."

"Hmmm...How about you keep kissing me for another five minutes, and then you keep a lookout?" I say – giving him my best, innocent looking grin.

A soft laugh escapes his mouth.

"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Black," he says. He pulls my body closer to his, "But, in this case, I'd be happy to oblige."

***

I wake up in the night and Cupid is no longer beside me.

I sit upright in my covers and see his silhouette by the window. His cell-phone is in his hand, and the screen casts a blue glow onto his features. I want to just sit here and admire the way he looks for a moment; his strong jawline, his broad shoulders, the hardness of his torso through his grey top. My stomach clenches as I recall the taste of his kisses, the thumping of his heartbeat as he pulled my body to his chest.

But then I see the expression on his face. He's frowning, his eyes darkened.

"Cupid?" I whisper, "What is it?"

He looks up suddenly, his hard eyes softening slightly as they pass over me. I feel my breath intake just by him looking at me. The memory of his kisses still linger on my tongue and I have to force myself to focus. Because something is wrong. I can tell.

"Nothing," he says.

I raise an eyebrow.

"Cupid...?"

He sighs, his jawline hardening.

"It's my brother," he says. "He has some...news."

I fold my arms across my chest.

"What news?"

"He said he meant to tell us earlier. Crystal got back the autopsy report from the latest cupid that was found."

"And?" 

"He was missing a heart, Lila."

My body turns to ice.

I remember the creepy message Valentine had left for me.

I need your heart for what I'm to do.

"I guess Valentine was being literal then," I mumble.

Cupid comes to sit down on the bed beside me.

"He won't touch you," he says – his voice hard. There's fury in his eyes. "I'll kill him," he says softly. "I'll find a way and I'll kill him."

I can feel the tautness of Cupid's muscles, the tension radiates from him. His fists are clenched at his sides.

I touch his arm lightly, feeling the burn of his skin - hot as fire. 

He looks at me. Then pauses. It looks like he's deciding whether to tell me something else.

"What is it?" I say.

He exhales.

"That's not all," he says.

I raise an eyebrow in question. He sighs heavily again, running a hand through his hair.

"Mino just contacted the Matchmaking Service," he says. "The body they found earlier...it's gone. It's missing from the morgue."

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