I held his intense gaze as I shimmied the tight breeches over my hips and stepped out of them, tossing them on top of the tunic. Wrath’s breathing all but stopped when he noticed I hadn’t been wearing undergarments. Fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles went bone white from the strain. Not exactly the reaction I’d hoped for upon disrobing.
Brow furrowed, I silently replayed our exchange, carefully recalling each word. After tricking me into a blood bargain with him—to ensure none of his brothers took advantage of me when I first crossed into the underworld—I’d asked if he still considered me his.
Now, while rigidly standing outside in the snow, not making a move to follow me into his very warm and inviting bedchamber, I worried I’d misunderstood him. He’d said only that he didn’t require time to think it over. Which, technically, didn’t mean he considered me his.
“Have you changed your mind?” I asked.
Wrath scanned my face, his own expression closed off. “You willingly choose me. Knowing who I am. What I’m capable of.”
They weren’t questions, but I nodded in affirmation. “Yes.”
“And this decision has nothing to do with your sister?”
He watched me carefully, and I knew he was trying to sense even the slightest shift in my emotions. Wrath would not take me to his bed if he believed any force aside from my own desire was driving me there. For one of the first times since we’d met, I offered him nothing but truth. If we had any hope of moving forward together, the games between us needed to end.
“I wanted you that night at Gluttony’s party. And before that… do you remember when you magically removed the intoxication from me while we trained against his sin? I wanted you to take me then, too. Those times were both well before I saw Vittoria.” I forced myself to hold his gaze, to prove to him how serious I was. “And I realized tonight that throughout everything, you’ve always been there for me. Your methods might not have always been ideal by mortal standards, but everything you’ve done has been to help me. I want you, and it has nothing to do with anyone else.”
After a long pause that had me tensing for rejection, he finally prowled from the balcony into his bedchamber, slowly closing the distance between us. His attention meandered from my eyes to my lips before it dipped lower to take in my body.
A knee-clenching savagery entered his gaze while he mentally devoured me inch by brutal inch, pausing on that throbbing place between my thighs that suddenly ached for him. A low growl rumbled in his chest, confirming he sensed my desire.
I sincerely hoped he allowed whatever beast that was to break free tonight. I wanted to experience every wicked and deviant thing he’d just dreamed up.
He flashed a grin born of sinful promise, indicating he was more than willing to deliver.
Even with the chill clinging to him from the storm, I felt anything but cold as he neared. Between his scorching stare and the way he silently traced each of my curves as if plotting all the things he was about to do… it was almost enough to melt me right then and there.
“Tell me every dark desire, Emilia”—he tilted my face up—“every fantasy you wish to come true.” His fingers lightly stroked the pulse point at my throat before he brought his mouth to mine, the kiss a mere brush of his lips that left me breathless and wanting. He pulled back and slowly ran his hands down my silhouette. “And I vow to make every one of them happen.”
My focus roved over the expanse of fine clothes and the hard body hidden underneath them. “I have quite a few ideas.”
The new look he gave me indicated he had some interesting ideas of his own.
We might argue elsewhere, but in this we were blessedly united. I pulled him in for another kiss, wanting to cherish this moment for eternity. Soon the sweet kiss turned ravenous, neither one of us content with being slow or delicate anymore. We were beings fueled by rage, by passion. And I wanted our first joining to be as explosive as our tempers.
If Wrath wished to give me every dark desire I’d ever had, I hoped he was prepared to keep up. I nipped his lower lip, and with a growl of approval, he responded in kind.
Wrath quickly deemed war on my mouth and battled like the general he was, taking no prisoners. There was ownership in this kiss, possession. And I gave it right back. He was mine. Every inch of his wicked soul, every steady thump of his heart, belonged to me.
His hands caressed my body, and a honeyed heat pooled low in my belly, spreading with each glorious pass of his calloused fingers. Of all the times for him to be fully dressed…