Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2) (84)

TWENTY-THREE


Wrath trailed a line of searing kisses down my neck, igniting my desire.

The chocolate-covered berries were forgotten. There was a new indulgence being served. And I’d gladly take my fill of this pleasant delight. I’d asked for seduction, and the prince was delivering. His hands drifted along the silhouette of my body, pausing to rest on my waist.

It didn’t feel possessive as much as it seemed like he was holding himself in check. Or maybe he was contemplating clever ways to slowly torture me. He fiddled with the clasp on one of my necklaces. The excessive strands of diamonds were hardly a barrier, but I wanted them gone all the same. I wanted nothing between us.

He brought his mouth to my body again and my mind emptied of all else.

I tossed my head back, lost in ecstasy as his tongue smoothed over the sharp little nip he’d given me. He pulled me against him, his teeth now lightly scraping where my shoulder and neck connected. Chills danced over my body in the most tantalizing way. This feeling… it was not sinful, as mortals tried teaching their daughters. It was natural. Blissful. If it was socially acceptable for Wrath to take a lover, then the same right should be afforded to me.

After all, there were two people involved in such encounters.

I arched into his touch. I owned this desire, enjoyed it. And it did not make me lustful or wanton. It made me feel human, in control of my wants. Denying my passions no longer.

I braced myself with a hand on each of his thighs, gripping him as he lavished all his attention and kisses on my neck, my shoulders. I wanted to spin around and face him, needing to explore his body as languidly. For some reason, even with my newfound conviction, I hesitated.

“Is there something you want from me, my lady?”

“You don’t have to call me that when we’re alone. There’s no need for a show.”

He smiled against my neck. “Any other requests?”

“I…”

“Assert your wants. You need not apologize for them.”

“Even if I want you to stop?”

“Especially then.”

“Take my diamonds off. Please.”

The prince undid each strand of precious stones, letting them clink to the ground.

“I’m curious.” His voice was velvet soft as he leaned in and removed the final necklace. “About the Sin Corridor. What you experienced that night you called out my name. Tell me.”

There was no magical command or demonic thrall attached to his request. Only genuine curiosity. I realized the feeling of dizziness brought on by drinking was also gone. I was no longer under the influence of anything, save being drunk on my own passions, and hadn’t been since before he first kissed me.

Maybe it was our current position—the fact I didn’t have to see his face—that made my confession easier. Or perhaps I simply did not wish to feel guilt or shame regarding my body and the things I wanted and craved. I gathered up my courage, knowing precisely where this admission would lead. Praying for it to travel that path, really.

“You were… you were behind me, like this. Except we were laying down.”

He rewarded my honesty with a gentle stroke along my arm. “And?”

“I was wearing your shirt and you were unbuttoning it. So slowly I was going mad.”

“I imagine you demanded I remove it.” His fingertips ghosted across my shoulder, then my clavicle, before dipping lower, teasing the skin exposed above my décolletage. My breath hitched as he paused his ministrations, one hand slipping beneath a strap of my gown. Only the thin scrap of silk stood between us. “And I obliged. Is that correct?”

“More or less.”

“Would you like me to do the same now?” With only the slightest pause, I nodded. “I need to hear the words, Emilia. Do you wish for me to stop?”

“No.” My grip on his thighs tightened as if I could keep him there forever. “No, I do not.”

He moved my hair aside and leaned back in his chair, allowing enough space between us for him to lightly massage my shoulders. Gripping one strap in each hand, he pressed his lips to my spine, kissing me there as he slipped the top of my gown off.

Cool air blew across my flushed skin.

“What happened next?”

Fantasy and reality were colliding. My breaths quickened in anticipation. “You wanted me to tell you that you are my favorite sin.”

His chuckle was low, deep. It made me ache for him all the more. “Am I?”

“At the moment, yes.”

“You didn’t confess it then.”

I heard the question even though he hadn’t phrased it that way.

“No.” My eyes fluttered shut before I opened them again. “You started touching me and I could think of nothing else.”

He nuzzled the back of my neck before reaching around to cup my breasts. Heat shot through me. His fingers traced the outer curves, circling closer to the peaks in the center. When he brushed across them, they hardened. My breath caught as I sunk my teeth into my lower lip. I inched back, craving more of his heat, and noticed how affected he was.

“Tell me what I did in your illusion that made you call for me.”

I flushed. There was no way I’d tell him about that part. I closed my eyes and gathered my resolve, forcing myself to not be embarrassed. With renewed confidence I allowed myself the freedom of letting go. “You were gently pulling me against your arousal and your hand slipped under my skirts. You touched me. There. With your fingers.”