Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)

Our last joining had been explosive; the first time he’d tasted me had been fueled by unbridled passion. This… this was a true religious experience.

Wrath devoted himself to my pleasure, and I fully surrendered to him. I tilted my head back, breathing hard as he continued his slow, tantalizing tasting. He didn’t rush, didn’t roughly suck or tease. He made love to me with his warm, wet tongue, allowing it to say everything he couldn’t or wouldn’t as it dipped inside me.

When I got close to falling over the edge of pleasure, he pressed openmouthed kisses along my inner thighs, and it was the best sort of torture as I waited for him to return to that aching spot, to the swollen bundle of nerves that would soon have me calling his true name.

“Touch yourself, my lady.” His voice was an erotic purr, and his request…

Without breaking his stare, I trailed one hand down my own body, teasing him before slipping a finger inside. Wrath’s mouth was on me again in an instant, licking my sex and my fingers while I continued to touch myself, and in seconds I was calling out his name again.

I repeated it like a whispered prayer, and he continued his own faithful worshipping until the last of my climax rolled through me, leaving my legs shaking and my chest heaving.

And craving more. Goddess curse me. I couldn’t get enough of him. Wrath kissed his way up my body as he slowly lowered me back down, our slick skin sliding against each other its own euphoric experience. Wrath ran a finger over his lips, then he lifted my hand as if he were about to press a gentlemanly kiss to it. His gaze turned molten as he brought my finger to his mouth and sucked. I cursed, and he flashed a grin that was all masculine smugness. The mighty hunter just conquered his prey, and I hadn’t even put up a fight.

“You’re about to start whispering all sorts of filthy curses, my lady.” He moved until he’d caged my body between him and the smooth stone at my back. Impossibly, my desire for the demon grew. “This time, Emilia, I’m going to go slow.”

Wrath kissed me lightly, then moved his mouth across my jaw in another whisper-soft caress. He pressed the blunt end of his arousal against my swollen entrance and slid it back and forth until I whimpered from pleasure. “Oh, goddess above.”

My seductive prince ran one calloused hand down my side, slowly hoisting my leg up. With his other hand, he continued his delightful torture, driving us both wild. What started as a way to get me closer to that glorious edge now seemed to have the same effect on him. Wrath sheathed himself with one magnificent thrust. He drew back to look me in the eye as he pulled out, then slid in. Each movement and joining of our bodies was slow, languid.

The damned demon was right; I started cursing, the filthy words encouraging him to continue. His hand cupped my jaw as he covered my mouth with his and deepened our kiss. My fingers dug into his shoulders as I clenched around him.

Wrath brought those wicked lips to my ear. “You’re close?”

“Yes.”

“Thank fuck.”

His hand slid between our bodies, and he placed his thumb against my sex, increasing the timing on his thrusts, adding more pressure to that spot that sent a hot ripple through me.

I climaxed again, his true name flying from my tongue. He withdrew and thrust in deeper, a little faster this time, my own name slipping from his lips. Before I had time to come down from the soaring heights of my last release, Wrath had me climbing that same pleasure peak again. Soon we were both panting, our lips and breath mingling.

“You’re mine.” His voice was rough, deep.

“Just as you are mine. Forever.” Wrath hitched my leg a little higher, and I gripped his shoulders, a moan escaping me. My responses had him working even harder. He thrusted again and again, pleasure steadily building until I thought I’d combust. My body throbbed, and I could no longer hold myself back from the tidal wave of pleasure that broke. “Samael!”

He rode me through my orgasm, then joined me, my name shouted into the cave, bouncing back at us. We caught our breath, hearts pounding as he kissed me gently and lowered my leg. It prickled a little; I’d been so caught up in pleasure I hadn’t noticed it had gone numb.

My husband rubbed my aching calf muscle, searching my eyes. “Are you still here with me?”

The warmth of the water, the feeling of Wrath against me, cradling me. I hadn’t once drifted into another time or place. “I am.”

Relief flashed in the demon’s eyes, and I wondered if he’d always seemed so tense when we’d kissed or had been physical. “Let’s go to bed, my lady.”

Instead of swimming to the shore, Wrath scooped me into his arms, splashing me playfully in the process. It felt so good to just laugh, to not feel the weight of the world for once. Down here, with my prince, I didn’t have to think of betrayal or murder. Fear and darkness. Down here, within the magical lagoon under House Wrath, only love existed.

I wriggled out of his arms and dove under the water, exploding near him and earning a surprised chuckle when I succeeded in my return fire.

Afterward, we fell onto the glittering dark sand, and I pounced on my husband, who didn’t seem to mind one bit as I guided his length into me. Once we were tired from laughing and making love on the shore, Wrath magicked us back to his bedchamber. A beautiful pale lavender slip was folded on a pillow, and when I pulled it over my head and shimmied it down my body, I noticed the tiny gold stars across the top. It was soft and feminine, and I adored it.

Wrath gave me an appreciative look. The slip hit at midthigh, showing off my bronze skin. If I wasn’t so exhausted from our ordeal, I’d have been tempted to take him once more. He patted the bed, a debauched twinkle in his eye. “Save your energy for morning. You’ll certainly need it.”

With the promise of waking up and making wild, untamed love, I climbed onto the massive bed. Wrath tucked me against his body, and within moments, his breathing turned deep and even. I relaxed into his embrace and closed my eyes. Peace. I couldn’t recall the last time I felt so settled on the inside. There was still much chaos in the world, but in here, in this bedchamber and moment, I knew the true meaning of the word. Perhaps it was that sense of security that was my undoing. I’d forgotten, for a brief moment, what it meant to be cursed.

From one second to the next, I was magically wrenched from Wrath’s bedchamber. And the next nightmare began.





THIRTEEN