Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(106)

Wrath shook his head and expelled a good-natured sigh. “We’ll see you there.”

Gluttony rubbed his hands together, a devious expression falling into place. “You know? That viper gave me a great idea—I think I’ll offer her a glass of wine laced with slumber root and kick her and her assistant out. Then we’ll see who thinks I’m unclever. At least we won’t have to worry about your coronation party hitting the gossip columns.”

“It’s touching to see your concern for our privacy,” Wrath deadpanned.

“Yes, well”—Gluttony flicked invisible lint off his lapel—“if she caught you two like Lust did, I doubt she’d be as discreet.”

“Lust!” I searched for that miserable demon, but he’d already left the Sin Corridor. And here I’d mistakenly believed he hadn’t told anyone about the boat incident in House Greed. Or perhaps the kitchens of House Wrath. Gossiping demon princes. Gluttony chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. “Go on, laugh. You’ve all done and seen worse. I’m sure I’ll see worse tonight.”

“Only if we’re all very lucky.” With a wink, Gluttony spun around and cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting over the low murmuring of conversations. “May I have everyone’s attention—we meet at House Lust within the hour!”

“Wait,” Wrath said, his low voice carrying over the small gathering. “There’s one more matter to attend to.” I gave him a questioning look. “Would you like to swear a blood oath and officially become the coruler of House Wrath?”

I glanced to my sister, who offered me a small smile and nod. Vittoria would be all right ruling our House on her own. Excitement surged inside me as I faced my husband again, removing the dagger I’d hidden under my gown.

“Yes. I’m ready to become the Princess of Wrath. Officially.”





TWENTY-NINE


“You taste divine.” I closed my lips over the blunt end and sucked as much as I could into my mouth. I was trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, but devil curse me, it was so good. I drew back, my prize still in hand, and admired my work. “I want to lick each inch of you.”

“So do I,” Wrath murmured from the doorway.

I dropped the spoonful of cannoli filling I’d whipped together and burst out laughing when I noticed where his attention was. The fiend was definitely talking about his favorite dessert, not his wife. My bright laughter earned a wide grin from my husband as he fully entered the kitchens. We had just under an hour until we needed to be at Lust’s, and according to Wrath and Envy, it was fashionable for the couple of honor to show up a little late.

We decided to come home, and while Wrath tended to the hellhounds, I came to the kitchens to make a treat for our victory. We solved the “murder” of Vesta, cleared my sister’s name, and broke the curse. I couldn’t be happier.

“Gluttony sent five demons to fetch us. If we don’t show up to the party soon, he’s threatened to come here. With everyone. And he swore he’d personally escort the columnist.”

Wrath’s expression hinted that he’d happily choose to fight a horde of werewolves again rather than host a party and invite all his debauched brothers to our House of Sin. I handed him the bowl of sweetened ricotta. “You have time to at least steal a little taste.”

“You’re right. I do.” He set the bowl aside and pulled me in for a kiss. I melted against him, fully indulging in the sweet embrace. Much faster than either one of us would prefer, he drew back, his gaze dark with a carnal need that matched my own. “Much as it pains me to not lay you down and lick every inch of you this instant, we should leave.”

His voice was deep, velvety. It hinted at all sorts of fantasies and desires. Ones I’d gladly welcome as reality. I glanced longingly at the countertop, recalling the last time we’d been interrupted, then stepped out from his arms, putting distance between us. “It would certainly be unacceptable for the king and queen of sin and vice to be extremely late.”

Wrath tracked me across the kitchen, his attention never leaving mine as he slowly pressed me against the table and reached down, curling his fingers around the hem of my gown and swiftly dragging it upward. He parted my legs to stand between them.

“I said we should leave, my lady. I never said we were going to.” Wrath’s clever fingers discovered I hadn’t lied about my undergarments, and his attention zeroed in on that secret spot that yearned for him. He rubbed the slickness of my arousal until I whimpered from growing need. “At least not yet.”

My king knelt before me, his gaze dark and wicked as he made good on his promise to lick every inch of me.





The Prince of Lust might rule over all forms of pleasure, but the exterior portion of his House of Sin was dedicated to the one he was most famous for: lust. Our carriage had only just stopped outside the circular drive when it was made clear which prince ruled this court.

Marble statues of couples engaged in passionate encounters lined the grand staircase leading to a set of oversized wooden doors. My attention traveled to a frieze of an orgy placed above the entrance, the phrase ENTER ALL carved onto it.

I smiled a little at the double meaning. Subtlety was an art form Lust refused to learn.

Wrath and I were ushered in and promptly announced to the court. We strode into the grand ballroom where lords and ladies all bowed low—one of the first and last times a rival demon court would do so when their own ruling prince was in attendance.