Home > Books > Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(28)

Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(28)

Author:Kerri Maniscalco

“Emilia.” It didn’t sound like a warning as much as a plea. One more step, and he’d be as gone as I was.

“Was I wicked enough to fool a prince of Hell?” I ran my hands over my barely there top, allowing one strap to fall down. “Better yet… was I wicked enough to entice the devil?”

Wrath cursed gods I’d never heard of as I sauntered closer. He looked like he was a breath away from pouncing. I practically felt the tension snapping between us, and I leaned into it.

Wrath took a small step toward me, his gaze locked onto mine. The hunter had come out to play. “Tell me you want this.”

My attention ran over him, slowly and thoroughly. I hadn’t forgotten that anger acted as an aphrodisiac to him. Hadn’t forgotten how it also made me feel.

“Right now, I want the demon, not the prince. Show me why they call you the Wicked.” I grabbed his shirt and tugged him to me, my lips hovering above his. “And don’t you dare hold back.”

SIX

Wrath had me against the wall before I drew my next breath. He fingered the pearls of my top, his breath hot against the back of my neck as he roughly ground his hips against me. “If you change your mind—”

I spun around and cut him off with a violent kiss. “Stop again, even for a second, and I promise we’ll test your fondness for knife play, demon.”

Wrath’s answering smile promised deviance. He gently stroked my breasts over the pearl top until they grew heavy and ached for more.

“This top.” His fingers curled around a strand, his warm, bare skin almost brushing mine. I never hated a piece of clothing more. “Needs to go.”

The prince’s grip tightened on the strand, and he yanked, the pearls bouncing across the floor as my top broke apart. He allowed his gaze to slowly peruse my eyes, my lips, and every inch of my body until he’d reached the floor and dragged it back up. I loved when he looked at me like that. Like I was the beginning and end of each of his fantasies. He certainly was mine.

“You are absolutely devastating.” He dipped his head, kissing his way down my neck, not stopping until he’d cupped one of my breasts and sucked it into his mouth, his teeth scraping ever so lightly. I leaned against the wall, my hands traveling down his powerful arms, holding him close as he lathed his tongue over the sensitive peak.

“Wrath.” I writhed against him, unable to stand the slow, expert flicking of his tongue. My body was drenched and ready. “I want you. So bad I can’t think straight.”

He pressed openmouthed kisses to my other breast, laughing quietly as I gripped his hair and held on. “When I saw you on that idiot’s lap, soaking wet and nearly coming, I wanted to fuck you right there. In front of the whole damned court.”

The way he growled, low and rough like his very un-princelike words, set my blood on fire. I pressed against him, needing to feel him as I went up on my toes and whispered, “I would have let you.”

Wrath’s lips crashed against mine, the kiss neither sweet nor tender. It was animalistic and wild. A claiming and battle for domination. Tonight, we’d complete the physical part of our marriage bond, and Wrath did not want a submissive queen. He longed for an equal. Just as I did.

I broke away from our kiss, then licked up the column of his throat, pleased when he released a string of curses and roughly ground his hips against mine again, his length as hard as granite. He buried his face in my neck, kissing and sucking until a breath hissed out of me.

He drew back and brushed a loose strand of hair away from my face, like he was checking to make sure this was real. “I spent that whole time thinking about what I’d like to do.” One large, calloused hand traveled along my left side, slowly sliding over my hip, down my thigh, until he reached the back of my knee and hoisted me up against him. “Imagining how you’d feel. The sounds you’d make. When I murdered that bastard, spread your legs, and pounded into you. Right there on that fucking table.”

His tantalizing words, the heat and desire in his eyes. It was too much.

“Please. I need you inside me. Now.” I ripped at the stays of his trousers, slipped my hand inside the material, and began to play.

“Emilia.”

My name on his lips, the reverence of his tone—it awakened something in me. A feeling so strong I could only express it with action. I sucked his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down gently, and stroked him faster. His skin was as soft as silk, but his arousal was stronger than steel.

This magnificent, deadly creature was mine. I would commit ugly, savage acts if anyone interrupted me from claiming him right here, right now.

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