Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2) (67)

Goddess curse me. The need to bed him was overwhelming, the ache unbearable.

I thought I knew desire before in the Crescent Shallows. Nothing came close to this. I could think of nothing else except his hands on me. My hands on him.

In the back of my mind I knew something was terribly wrong. This was exactly what Lust had done to me that night on the beach, but I was unable to focus on anything but my desire.

Our mutual fury would have a perfect outlet in passion, granting us both release as we fought to undress, to out-caress, to make the other come undone. I dragged Wrath’s face close to mine, his eyes flaring with that same desire as I slowly took his bottom lip between my teeth.

“Kiss me.” I left his mouth only to run my tongue and teeth over the side of his neck, tasting and suckling his skin as I brought my lips close to his ear. “I need you.”

“Want, but never need, my lady.” He did not return my pursuit, but his grin was positively sinful as he stepped away from my touch. “In the Sin Corridor, you were tested for envy. I’m curious what got you so incensed. Do you recall what illusion spurred that on?”

My desire evaporated. An image of Wrath engaged in bedding a woman who wasn’t me resurfaced. Once again I saw her legs wrapped around his body, his hips rolling forward with each deep thrust inside her. Instead of her moans, I could now hear his.

A possessive, dark emotion bubbled inside me. I was so jealous of them, I wanted to kill. My blood turned as cold as my tone. “Yes.”

“Tell me what you saw.”

“You and another woman. In bed.”

There was a moment of silence. As if he hadn’t expected that to be the reason. “And how did that make you feel?”

I exhaled, the sound more akin to a growl. “Murderous.”

Wrath slowly began circling me again, his voice quiet, but taunting. “Was that before or after you saw the pleasure she’d given me? The pure ecstasy I felt buried inside her warmth.”

A tear slid down my cheek. I was not sad or even furious. I was now fully consumed by jealousy. Not of the other woman, but of the night of intimacy they’d shared. I wanted that. Wanted Wrath with an intensity that razed all reason from my mind. And that level of envy was almost as overwhelming as the night I first met the prince who ruled over that sin.

Envy had used his influence on me and I’d never forget the iciness of—

Understanding descended in a burst of anger, breaking the spell. “You monstrous beast. You’re using your powers on me!”

“And how easily you succumbed to them.” Wrath’s fury rose to meet mine. “Do you want my brothers to manipulate you? Maybe you wish to become an object for their amusement. Perhaps you will start by being mine. Remove your clothing and dance for my pleasure.”

“You’re a pig.”

“I am much worse than that. But a bargain is a bargain.”

“I did not consent to this bullshit.”

“Lie. You asked me to arm you. Demanded, if I recall correctly. I countered with training you against physical and magical threats. Did you not agree to that?”

“Yes, but—”

“Remove your clothing.”

There was a strange echo of power in his voice. I tried to shove it away, tried fighting it, but felt the pressure building and caving in. I desperately tried to erect an emotional barrier between us, but Wrath would have none of it. Before I could touch the summoning Mark on my neck, his voice rang out clear and strong and filled with dominating power.

“Now.”

The dam broke, and so did my will. My fingers swiftly loosened the buttons and stays of my trousers. I shimmied out of them, allowing the material to pool at my feet. My tunic was gone next. Wrath slid his attention from the top of my head to my toes, and pulled it up as slowly. There was no lust or warmth or appreciation in his gaze. Only anger.

And he wasn’t alone in that feeling. I hated that he’d compelled me to disrobe. Choosing to do so in the Crescent Shallows was powerful, freeing. This was neither of those things. I would make him pay for this. As quickly as my need for revenge flared, it vanished with the next wave of his will.

I went to remove my undergarments, but his voice cut through my haze. “Leave those on. Sway your hips.”

I focused on the single ember of fury that hadn’t been tamped down by Wrath’s magical command. Trying with all of my might to ignite that kernel of emotion that still belonged to me, and use it to swat his magic away. I would be the one to decide when to undress before him or anyone else. I would be the master of my own will. And I would keep fighting for myself, no matter how dire or desperate or futile the situation became.

Sensing my resolve, Wrath unleashed more of his power.

“I said, sway your hips.”

Sentient thought, emotion, and free will were locked deep inside me. All I knew was the sound of his voice, his desire. His will pumped through my veins, dominated me in every sense of the word. Became one with my heart.

I did as he commanded. I became sin and vice. I was lustful. And I adored it.

Swaying suggestively, I kept my attention on him. I wished he’d ask me to remove my undergarments. Then I wished he’d remove his.

Wrath moved closer, his expression a study of cold fury. I could not understand why he was displeased. I erased the remaining distance between us and danced against him, pressing up against his tense body. Something about our position reminded me of another time, another dance. And the same anger that coursed through him at that bonfire.