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

My foot touched the bottom of the boat the second he said “lick,” and the timing couldn’t be more unfortunate. Desire raked its claws over my skin before I shook the magic away. Wrath hadn’t exaggerated; the demon waterway certainly enhanced this circle’s magic. I greedily wanted Wrath’s touch—had craved it all night—and the circle knew it.

I quickly sat on the bench opposite Wrath, arranging my clothing to give my hands something to do. I’d chosen a gown with blush-colored tulle skirts and a black velvet bodice that had little gold and pink flowers sewn onto the straps and carefully placed around the sweetheart neckline. It was modest by demon fashion standards, but it was soft and pretty and I liked the way it made me feel. Perhaps a little too much. And so did my prince.

Wrath’s attention moved over the corset as the boat pushed itself off the dock and began gliding over the otherwise quiet water. Maybe it was the magic of the realm, or our betrothal bond, or the excess greed pumping through the lone canal, but that slight spark of desire suddenly blazed again the longer my prince admired me. All I could think of was how much I wanted to be in Wrath’s bedchamber.

I clenched my knees together, tried counting the waves our gondola made, but that worked against me. Thinking of waves lapping made me think of Wrath’s skilled tongue and all the things he’d done to me with it. I squeezed my eyes shut, but that only brought on memories of Wrath between my thighs, a king indulging in a royal feast.

Blood and bones. I needed release.

“Emilia.” Wrath’s voice held a note of warning, but it did nothing to soothe me or bring my desire under control. If anything, it made me crave him all the more. “Breathe.”

I exhaled slowly, thinking of the reason we were invited here. Murder. For the love of the goddess. That ought to be enough to dampen the fires of passion, but one look at Wrath’s strained face indicated he was struggling, too. Fantastic. My lack of control was bleeding over to him. If he unleashed himself now, we’d both be in trouble.

I focused on the waterway, on the rippling surface of the merlot waves. There were fewer torches this far into the tunnel, larger stretches of darkness. I’d almost wrangled my emotions back into a tight fist when I saw the bulge form in the demon’s trousers. That was all it took for me to submit to the sea of sin and my own wants.

Without breaking his stare, I removed my gloves, then stood, gently rocking the boat with the motion, and went to my knees before him. Power, unlike any magic I’d summoned before, filled me as something dark and dangerous glittered in his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

A coy smile curved my lips as I unfastened his trousers. “Conquering, your majesty.”

“Emilia—” Before he could remind me why this wasn’t a good idea, as if I weren’t already aware of that, I pulled his hard length free and slowly licked him from tip to base. “Demon’s blood,” he growled as I closed my mouth around him and sucked a little harder, testing the action. His hands fisted at his sides. “You’re going to destroy me.”

Recalling what I’d seen at Gluttony’s House of Sin during the Feast of the Wolf, I gripped him in hand and repeated the motion using my mouth and tongue to work him, moving a little faster and holding him a little tighter with each pump, adoring the rasp of his breath.

Wrath sat still, allowing me to set the pace, but from the way his thighs tensed, I could tell he was holding himself back. And I wanted no part in that. This moment was meant for unleashing ourselves. I glanced up, silently commanding him to give in to his own dark passion. To show me just how wicked he could be. Because I wanted it. And so did he.

When he still didn’t move, I grew bolder. “Stand up, your majesty.”

Understanding flared in his eyes. With an impressive curse, he obeyed my order, then sank his fingers into my hair, guiding himself deeper. The boat rocked dangerously, but the flat bottom ensured we wouldn’t tip over. Perhaps that was why they were used here. I doubted we were the first travelers to give in to the greedy desire pumping through our veins.

I grasped onto Wrath’s hips, loving that this mighty demon was finally losing control. I might be the one on my knees, but I owned him in this moment. And he well knew it.

His grip tightened in my hair, possessive and an edge shy of painful, yet it made my knees clench together from the pleasure steadily building in me. It did not matter that we were in a rival demon House. That at any moment someone might spy us in a compromising position. Only pleasure mattered. And maybe it was greed fueling me, or maybe I didn’t mind the thought of others greedily watching us from the shadows. In fact, that scandalous thought made the honeyed heat in my belly spread, made me grow bolder still, hungrier for as much pleasure as I could get. I tugged him closer, urging him to thrust deeper, to not deny me my greed-fueled desire to taste him. I wanted him to mark me in every way, just as I intended to mark him.

“Fuck.” He needed no further encouragement.

Wrath pumped into my mouth as if he were pounding that slick junction of my body, claiming me with the same fervor I’d soon claim him. That very area throbbed at the thought of him being there now, dominating because I wished him to, but only in that one instance.

His awareness of my growing arousal must have finally sent him careening over the edge. With one last thrust and a groan that was more animal than human, he came undone. He gently stroked my hair back, massaging my skull tenderly as if he’d just realized how tightly he’d been holding on.

I swallowed him down, then gave one final, slow lick, grinning as he twitched from the aftershocks of pleasure.

“Godsdamn, Emilia.”

“That was… incredible.” I went to my feet, feeling immensely gratified. “I’m not sure who enjoyed that more.”

“I’m curious to test that theory.” He reached for me, a sinful twinkle in his eye, when the trance we’d both been in was suddenly broken by the sound of a throat clearing.

I yanked my attention up and froze. The Prince of Lust leaned against a doorway that led down a narrow corridor, arms crossed. I hadn’t seen the corridor or the prince. Not that I really cared to look for either; Wrath had held all my greedy attention.

“If you’re both quite through,” Lust said, managing to sound immensely bored despite what he’d witnessed, “there’s a little matter of murder to attend to.” Even fully dressed, I still felt the heat of a blush kissing my cheeks at being caught. Lust watched his brother, shaking his head slightly. “Put your cock away and follow me. You’ll have plenty of time to pleasure your bride later. Greed sent me to see what was taking so long. He’s losing his temper. And you know how irksome that can become when any of us feel another sin.”

“Leave us.” Wrath’s voice was glacial, like his expression. “We’ll be there shortly.”

“Afraid I can’t do that,” Lust volleyed back. “Wouldn’t want you to get distracted again.”