Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked #2)(93)
On one end, a woman lay naked, her legs spread wide as a man poured a trail of chocolate sauce over her breasts, down her stomach, and across the apex of her body. He tossed the jug aside, dropped to his knees and began feasting. There was no romance, no seduction. Only pure, animalistic hunger. Not that the woman seemed to mind.
My attention darted to the opposite end of the table, where a young man lay with an arm bent behind his head, watching as his partner sucked whipped cream from his arousal, and another lover entered her from where she was bent over. My face flamed at the erotic scene.
Before I’d learned that Pride wasn’t my intended, Wrath had mentioned his brother inviting lovers into our bed. I now understood what he meant. I also knew with vivid clarity what Fauna had been asking when she’d inquired about taking my mouth to Wrath.
“My brother enjoys shocking guests upon their arrival.” Wrath’s low voice at my ear sent a shiver skittering along my spine. “His subjects are all too happy to participate in his favorite vices. The lovers here want to be seen. They desire for us to overindulge in their pleasure. Our attention feeds them as their trysts feed us. It will not be this way throughout the entire House.”
Wrath’s hand on my back did not uproot my feet from where I’d planted them. “Will Gluttony’s influence make me do that? In front of everyone?”
Wrath followed my gaze, his own expression inscrutable. “No.”
I subtly studied the demon at my side. He was completely unaffected by all of the naked bodies and grunts and groans. He might be gazing upon furniture, noting it was there to sit upon, but worth no more than a cursory glance. The same could not be said for me. I tore my attention from where the man was licking and sucking with fevered abandon.
“How can you be sure? Lust managed to influence me. As did Envy. I’m sure your brother can make me do whatever he pleases with whomever he pleases I do it. Maybe our lessons weren’t enough. Maybe—”
“Breathe. No one will touch you while we’re here, Emilia. It would be an act of war and we’re all gathered with the understanding of temporary peace. You belong to House Wrath. If they forget, I will take pleasure in reminding them.”
One look into his harsh features drove his promise home. I had little doubt this prince would tear someone limb from limb if they laid a finger on me without my consent. I wanted that power. I wanted to know safety at my own hand and almost swore I had once upon a time. Perhaps that was why I’d felt so envious when I’d first met Envy and he’d used his influence on me. I longed for the power to defend myself and my loved ones.
My focus drifted back to where the man knelt between the woman’s thighs. He worked her now with mouth and hand. A female lover moved to her chest, adding more whipped cream and licking her skin clean before adding another dollop.
Gluttony wished to shock his guests, to unnerve them. Except most were from this realm and had likely witnessed much more debauchery. No, this tableau was not for all of his guests. This was for me. To unsettle the mortal guest of honor long before I entered his ballroom.
And he’d almost succeeded.
Nakedness, people seeking sexual pleasure, no matter how much I kept trying to move past it, the mortal way of thinking of them as wrong and shameful kept creeping back in. They kept shocking and embarrassing me because deep down, I still worried about being ruined by human notions of scandal. Most of all, I kept worrying about what others would think.
Enough. I’d had enough of falling back into old fears. I strode over to the table and dipped my finger into a bowl of whipped cream, then slowly turned to Wrath as I licked it off. There wasn’t anything in his expression now that spoke of boredom or disinterest. He tracked each movement as if committing it to memory.
A waiter appeared, holding a tray of champagne flutes.
I gave Wrath a small, devious smile and snagged a glass of sparkling demonberry wine. “Cheers to being scandalized.”
Without waiting for his response, I rotated and walked past the table of lovers.
When I entered the Feast of the Wolf and the herald called out my name, I’d convinced myself I was the most fearsome one in the room.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The Prince of Gluttony was not at all what I expected. He wasn’t perched on a throne, or giving off the appearance of cool boredom, or exuding royal arrogance. There wasn’t anything particularly dangerous looking about him, either. Except for the threat he posed to hearts.
He stood, arms full of buxom ladies, near a fountain of spirits, a secret smile pulling at the corners of a luscious mouth. The prince leaned in to whisper something in each of his companions’ ears, their laughter sultry and filled with wicked promises.
I arched a brow as he took turns nibbling at their necks. He was a rake through and through. And he seemed adored for it.
He was not quite as tall as Wrath, but his shoulders were broad, his hips narrow, and the width of his thighs suggested a fit body hidden beneath his blackberry-colored suit.
His slightly ruffled brown hair had strands of gold and red in certain light, though the darkness never relinquished its hold for long. He wore a bronze crown, fitted with multicolored gemstones. Gluttony’s hazel eyes were a mixture of brilliant shades of green and gold and brown. All vying for dominance, all indulging in their own beauty.
And they were now trained on where Wrath and I stood. One brow quirked up.