“Fuck.”
He threaded his fingers through her shimmering hair. Her head bobbed up and down, her rhythm getting faster, her suction harder. She wanted him to come. The muscles in his abdomen tightened with each flick of her tongue. He was close.
He wanted her. All of her. Desperately.
She paused and looked up the length of his body, over his strong hips and his muscled stomach, his tattoos dancing across his gleaming chest, drinking him in.
Camilla had tamed the beast. The uncivilized demon pacing below the surface of his princely veneer bowed to her, a loyal servant to its master.
He saw the exact moment she realized that.
A slow, wicked smile crossed his face.
He knew, too. Maybe he’d known longer than she had that one day this silver-haired, sharp-eyed, clever woman would bring him to his knees, and he’d be all too willing to go.
Envy suddenly pulled her up, onto his chest, her velvet dress caressing his flesh, his knees bent behind her in support. His cock twitched against her bare backside.
His gaze turned molten.
“Take off your dress.”
His command, his low growl… it appealed to her. He felt the truth of that by how much more aroused she became. She liked when he ordered her around in the bedroom.
Camilla arched a brow, bracing her hands on his shoulders. “What happened to you destroying me?”
He skimmed his hands up her sides, along her collarbones, across her chest, and then ripped her dress down the middle, from collar to hem, savagely tossing the pieces aside.
She had on a beautiful scrap of lacy lingerie that he admired for all of one beat before he shredded that, too.
If she wanted him to be wicked, he would make all her dark fantasies come true tonight.
FIFTY-THREE
“DEVASTATING.” HIS ROUGHENED fingertips traced the curve of Camilla’s breast, thumb rolling across her tender nipple. She felt the corresponding twitch of his arousal against her backside, spread her thighs a bit wider as she rubbed herself against him.
Camilla brushed his dark hair from his brow, pausing to admire the beauty of him.
He was all bronze skin and sharp shadows now, the light of the moon revealing only slices of the chiseled angles of his face. She couldn’t help but drink in the deep hunter green of the runner on the throne room’s checkered floors as they spread behind him.
She imagined painting him like an angel, unfurling in the darkness of this room. She tentatively traced the bridge of his nose, as strong and powerful as the rest of him.
“Camilla.” His voice was as tender as his touch when he pulled her closer. “I have one request. I want you to say my true name when you come.”
She pulled back, searching his eyes. It was no small request.
“I thought demons closely guarded their true names.”
“Which is why I only wish for you to say it tonight.”
She considered this, knowing it couldn’t be a normal request. Otherwise, half the realm would likely know his true name. But maybe he needed to feel less alone just this once. After walking through his empty corridors, she thought she understood why. If anyone knew what it was like to want to chase away loneliness, it was Camilla.
She nodded. “All right. Tell me.”
“Leviaethan.”
It was beautiful; the way he’d whispered it rolled off the tongue. Leviaethan. He’d spoken like it was two words, two names. She imagined them as the wolves of his House symbol: Levi and Aethan.
Camilla leaned forward, kissing him softly, then nipping at his lush bottom lip, giving him a secretive grin. The time for talking was through. He’d promised to be a demon and right now he was being far too charming.
She lifted herself up a few inches, then angled her body before lowering onto him, only taking the first inch or so. Testing.
“Fuck.” His breath came out in a harsh burst.
In another wondrously fast movement, he had her on her back. Her legs spread wide as he pressed closer, lowering his weight, supporting himself on two strong arms on either side of her head. His powerful mass was an erotic sensation on top of her.
She inhaled as deeply as she could, his scent filling the space around her. All she could see was him, all she could feel. And she loved it. Wanted more.
Envy kissed her. Slow at first, his tongue reminding her of all the sensual things it had just done to her. She clawed him closer, her body already throbbing as his cock twitched at her entrance.
He smiled against her neck, pausing his torturous exploration as she attempted to seat him inside her from their current position. His low laugh sent a dark thrill through her, the pulse shooting straight to that juncture between her legs.
“Patience, Camilla, darling. I promise I’ll fuck you as hard and fast as you like, soon.”
Before she could argue, his mouth had closed over her breast. His tongue did that glorious thing—a combination of tantalizing strokes and slight scrapes of teeth that made her throb everywhere.
Her hands tangled in his hair again, her body arching up to meet his. They’d played this game long enough; she needed him. Needed that release.
“Please.”
Envy glanced up, his hungry expression matching hers.
He positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing his tip back and forth across her folds, ensuring that she was slick and ready even though he knew damn well she was.
He pushed in slowly, allowing her time to adjust to his size, her walls clenching around his intrusion.
Envy brushed his lips across hers, the kiss quickly becoming a tangle of tongues and teeth, then pushed in deeper, her breath catching against his.
Camilla realized the kissing was a distraction, to help her body relax, to welcome his impressive length. They repeated the motions, him slowly thrusting in, inch by inch, pausing to kiss and tease, bringing Camilla to the brink of pleasure, then pulling out. Each time he plunged in farther, stretching her, but she still feared he’d never completely fit.
With a final, powerful thrust, he was seated fully inside her.
He propped himself up on his forearms, searching her face.
“You’re all right?”
“Yes.” Camilla’s voice was breathless. All right was an understatement. His size filled her beyond what she’d imagined she could take. She felt every twitch of him, every throb of herself responding to that silent call. She’d never felt more alive.
Tentatively, she gripped his elbows and shifted her hips, sliding across the marble to take him impossibly deeper. He pulled out with a hiss and then thrust back in. God, he was enormous, taking up every trembling inch of her, owning her flesh with each stroke.
He hadn’t lied. He would ruin her.
Camilla wasn’t sure how anyone else would ever compare.
She caught the sharpness in his gaze moments before snowflakes began to fall across her skin. He must have sensed she’d thought of others. The territorial, beautiful beast.