Page 6 of Truth Revealed

Daria tilted her head back to look at him. “And what’s that?”

He clapped his hands and rubbed them together with a sinister grin. “Who’s up for stalking?”

* * *

With schedules tentatively made and coffee or hot chocolate freshly brewed, everyone finally relaxed.

Maybe Misery most of all. On the couch, he was totally slumped against her, his head in her lap as she petted his hair. At first, when he’d laid in her lap, her cheeks had flamed and her gaze had darted nervously to Hope in the chair beside them.

With a sexy smirk on his face, Hope had just shrugged and continued flipping through the TV channels. Their casual acceptance with such a public display of affection both made her stomach tight and a weight fall off her shoulders.

She was so conflicted, all the time.

Do I, or don’t I?

She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t even recognize when Misery lifted himself from the couch.

She blinked, and he suddenly came in to focus, holding out his hand to her. With a brow arched, he murmured, “Come with me.”

Daria frowned, but her curiosity got the best of her as she slipped her hand into his. With a tug, and an impressive flex of his upper arms, he pulled her off the couch, but didn’t release his grip on her. As they crossed the living room, Hope’s smirk twitched before breaking into a grin, then he coughed a laugh into his shoulder. Narrowing her eyes, she followed Misery up the stairs and… into her room.

“What’s wr—” Her words were cut off as Misery cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers.

Not him too, she thought. Honestly, could they stop interrupting her with their kisses and let her get a word out?

As his tongue dipped in to tease the seam of her lips, Daria opened to him, her thoughts changing direction instantaneously. Okay, maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world.

“Get out of your head,” Misery said, leaning his forehead against hers. His warm breath brushed against her cheek, and she took a minute to absorb his words and try to get her mind on track.

“What? I’m not—”

“I don’t have to use my misery feelers to sense that you’re feeling awkward whenever one of us gets too close.”

Lifting her chin in defiance, she argued, “I don’t feel awkward.”

“You sure about that?” Glittering obsidian stared her down until she rolled her eyes at him.

“Okay, fine,” Daria grumbled. “It’s a little weird when I… cuddle you in front of the others.”

Was it cocky of her to admit that? That she imagined she really had such an effect on them?

“They don’t care,” Misery promised, dipping down to take her lips, and she stiffened for half a second, doubt creeping in before he erased it—and all her other thoughts—with his tongue and his touch.

It took him no time at all to rid her of her shirt, stripping it over her head in a rush and parting their lips only for the second it took for the shirt to pass over her face.

“Do you need to, uhm…” Daria mumbled between kisses. “Feed? Release?”

“Yeah, I need a release alright,” he replied dryly, the words spoken against her lips.

Rolling her eyes, Daria couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break free. “It was only a matter of time before one of you used that joke.”

Misery kissed the smile off her lips, his tongue tracing for entry, and then swiping against hers until all thought left her mind. She slid her hands under his shirt, over the flatness of his stomach, and tugged his shirt up. When they broke apart for her to tug it over his head, he spoke again.

“To answer your question, no, I don’t need to feed or release any misery. This is just for us. Because if you remember correctly, we got interrupted last time,” he told her, his lips trailing down her neck as he spoke.

At first, Daria’s only thought was, what question? But then she got with the program. Yeah, she remembered. Pandora had called Wrath, interrupting them, and then she’d been too worried to even think about sex. Then she’d fucking died again, so…

“No interruptions this time,” Daria stated, in a voice that came out as nothing more than a hoarse whisper. Misery framed his hands on her waist, jerking her close enough that his hard length pressed against her hip through their jeans.