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Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1)(59)

Author:Ella Fields

Though those words gave me pause, I greedily did as encouraged.

The taste of blood was not something I’d ever thought would appeal to me.

But feeding from Florian wasn’t merely a consumption of the nectar that lived beneath his skin. It was a necessity I’d never known I needed. A nourishment I shouldn’t crave but now knew I would indeed not last long without.

I needed no instruction for this. My legs twined tight around his waist. My teeth remained embedded in his flesh. My tongue lapped while I sucked. My heart soared as my body welcomed his essence with as much greed as my mouth.

I clasped his jaw to keep it tilted, unwilling to let him take this from me.

Not that he tried.

He cursed, a hard swallow sounding over my slight moans and bumping my nose. He was fire-coated ice, the warmth of him invading and spreading in a cold caress. The taste of him was pleasure and contentment unlike any other.

Intimate, indeed. I’d do atrocious things to make sure no one else could taste him in such a way—and to make sure I could do so again and again and again.

For if it were true that Mythayla provided an eternity of treasure to deserving souls in the last life, then this was it. Feeding from Florian would be it.

He groaned as I suckled and licked and swallowed, his hold at the back of my head gentling as he began to move inside me again. Within seconds, I came undone in an entirely new way. My release hit differently—a thunderous burn that tingled and cramped.

Tears filled my eyes.

The cries I’d smothered in Florian’s neck were set free when he lifted my head, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “You’re okay,” he crooned. All the while, he didn’t let up. He continued to fuck me with steady, unhurried thrusts. “Look at you.” His eyes flared with his nostrils, then narrowed. “What have I done to you, sweet creature?”

I couldn’t answer that, even if I’d been capable.

His smile was that of the true tyrant he was. He lifted me from the drawers and, still inside me, carried me to the bed. He laid me down and loomed over me. An exquisitely gentle kiss was pressed to my jaw with his gritted demand. “Answer me.”

I croaked out, “You’ve ruined everything I’ve ever wanted.” His head rose, tilting as he studied me with his gaze hardening. I smiled, reaching for the sharp crest of his cheek with fingers that still tingled. “You’ve ruined me.”

His eyes flashed, his lips whispering over mine with his words. “You no longer seem so disappointed.”

Because I wasn’t, and he knew it.

I slid my hands into his hair and kissed him.

I might not have been disappointed, but I was unwilling to believe that the heat would change much of anything regarding Molkan and the kingdom of Baneberry’s fate.

My kingdom’s fate.

As night arrived and Florian returned from taking our dishes to the kitchen, I curled away from the drapes that blocked the birds still residing outside on the balcony. “When exactly do you intend on finalizing your plans of revenge, Majesty?”

That muscle feathered in his jaw. “Florian.”

“Florian,” I said, intentionally breathy.

He paused in kicking off his loose cotton pants. “Say that again.”

I laughed, turning into the bedding. “Answer my question, and I’ll consider it.”

He smirked. “I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific.”

“The wedding.”

A tilt of his head as he neared the bed. “In a hurry to make sure I hold you captive forever, Princess?”

I scowled, but laughed again when he leaped onto the bed and tugged my leg until I was trapped beneath him. Above me, he was a darkness that blocked out all else, his eyes and teeth the only light. “I like it when you do that.” He nipped my finger when I traced his mouth.

“Do what?” I whispered.

“Stare at me,” he said gruffly. Lowering his head, he skimmed his nose over my cheek. “Smile at me.”

My heart faltered, swelling when his lips grazed and gently tasted mine.

“Laugh because of me.” He trailed a path of kisses down my chest to my center. “Time for dessert.” That earned him another laugh that grew louder when he gripped my hips and nibbled playfully at my mound.

The following night, I woke starving but feeling more like myself than I had in weeks.

How that was possible when the changeling I’d been just weeks ago was now hard to see beneath all that had happened, I failed to comprehend while I searched the rooms for something to eat. There was nothing but a pitcher of water on the tray upon the drawers.

I drank half a glass, wondering about Florian’s whereabouts.

I’d fallen asleep right after dinner, so it wasn’t so late that Florian’s absence was unusual. Mercifully, the heat had unlatched its claws. I wished I could have said the same about the desire for the male who’d seen me through it.

I opened the drapes to watch the birds that still resided on the balcony, and belatedly realized the ice encasing the doorframe was gone. Peering behind me to the doors giving entry to Florian’s chambers, I found the same.

Even the door leading to my own chambers had been unsealed.

I wasn’t sure why that unsettled me.

Florian hadn’t wanted anyone hearing us fuck night and day. But even as the heat had simmered to a milder burn overnight, we’d still spent all day doing just that.

He’d unsealed the doors tonight, then, I surmised, and walked toward them. That meant he was comfortable with me leaving, and although that fact troubled me, I still donned the robe Florian had hung in the bathing room and did so.

I crept down the stairs with fears of what tomorrow might bring now that I didn’t need Hellebore’s vengeance sworn king to feed, bathe, and soothe my every aching need. I should have felt relieved. I should have been thinking about the address whispered to me by the stranger I hadn’t seen at the festival.

I should have been devising a way to get there to see if it would lead me to the only king who could answer the many questions still haunting me—my father.

The halls were silent save for the flower-shaped clock above the foyer entrance ticking toward midnight.

Which made the hushed conversation floating through the open doors to the manor all the more easier to hear.

“… finish this, Flor. Before she is taken and your precious advantage is lost.”

“Do not give me orders, Fume.”

I froze upon the landing before the last row of stairs, watching wisps of snow dance between the doors to melt upon the stone floor of the foyer.

“I’m not giving you orders. As your friend, I’m pleading with you to see reason,” Fume urged. “I know the twist of fate makes it difficult, but you’ve come this far…” His voice dropped, but I still heard what sounded like, “To back down will only make you look even more distracted.” A pause. “And therefore weak.”

“Difficult,” Florian said dryly.

Fume’s voice became a whisper I could barely hear. “Just say the word.”

Boots crunching over the pebbled drive sounded, shadows swaying over the stone of the entrance steps. My heart echoed in my ears as Florian barked something I missed beneath the screech of wind, and I strained to listen.

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