Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked Book 2)
Kingdom of the Cursed: CHAPTER 11

Wrath’s clothes vanished, leaving him standing naked and proud.

Any hint of smugness I’d felt disappeared when his clothing did. Devil curse me, I tried and failed miserably to not feed his ego by openly admiring him.

Great artists might try to capture his likeness but would undoubtedly fail. There was a certain mastery about him that defied his true form from ever being cast in something as mundane as bronze or carved in marble.

My gaze drifted across his broad shoulders, down his sculpted chest, then slowly inched lower, over each ridge of his abdomen, across his hips and lower until I finally took in his…

I jerked my attention back to his face. He was very obviously attracted to me. Clearly the sinful magic that thrummed below the surface of this world affected him more than I’d imagined. Though given his comments at dinner and the way our kiss had turned hungry and full of primal need earlier, maybe it wasn’t so simple. For either of us.

My traitorous attention dropped again. I tried not to stare too long, but his left thigh had an interesting design inked onto it. Pointing downward, a dagger spanned from his hip to his knee. The blade looked like it had a close-up of roses on its surface, while geometric patterns were etched onto its hilt. Unlike his other metallic tattoos, this one had been done in grayscale.

I pulled my focus back to his eyes and waited, heart pounding, for him to drag his attention over every inch of my exposed skin. My nerves hummed with anticipation; it was the first time I’d disrobed in front of him without it being the result of something clinical needed to revive me from near-death. Wrath’s gaze remained fixed on mine as he offered me his hand, palm up. Something inside me deflated a bit.

I went to unhook the cornicello, but he shook his head. “That may stay. Along with the flowers and bones in your hair.”

Confused, I dropped the amulet and wound my fingers through his. Technically, since they were the devil’s horns, I supposed they didn’t count as something made. And the bones and flowers were also organic material, so hopefully Wrath was right and all would be well.

We walked to the lagoon’s edge and water lapped at my toes, warm and silky.

He watched me, waiting to see if I wanted to continue. I took another step and lavished in the way the water felt like a million tiny bubbles on my skin.

Once we were deep enough out, Wrath let go of my hand and bobbed under the water. He exploded up a moment later, whipping his head back and pelting me with droplets. His laugh was full and rich and his smile was one of the most genuine I’d ever seen from him. It made my heart stumble a bit. I dove under the water before he could see my expression.

When I broke the surface and pushed the tangle of wet hair from my face, I caught him staring. Unlike me, he didn’t attempt to hide what he was feeling now. I thought about the Wicked, about their sinful games. The stories of their kisses being addictive enough for a mortal to sell their soul for the chance at another. The danger in gaining their attention. I’d undeniably gained Wrath’s full attention. And the only danger I sensed was how powerful it made me feel.

Here lay a choice. Wrath, temptation incarnate, waited, as if he knew where my thoughts had drifted. I swore there was something about the forbidden that made it sweeter to taste.

Or perhaps that was just a lie I told myself. Maybe I simply liked the taste of him, against my better judgment. I waded closer and slowly reached for him. His breath caught as I turned him away from me and tentatively traced the lines of Latin tattooed across his shoulders. I’d been curious about the ink from the first moment I’d summoned him in the bone circle all those months ago. Goose bumps rose on his skin with each gentle pass of my fingertips.

“Astra inclinant, sed non obligant.” I bit my lower lip, trying to translate it. “The stars…”

He rotated until we faced each other again, his eyes glowing softly in the dark. “The stars incline us; they do not bind us.”

“Beautiful.”

I did not miss the significance of him permanently inking onto his body that he did not want to be bound by anything. I thought of our betrothal bond, of how I’d forced it on him without knowing. Then I’d bound him to the summoning circle for days, refusing to set him free. No wonder he despised me then. It was a wonder he didn’t hate me now.

“I’m sorry.” The words were so soft, I wasn’t sure he’d heard me. “For binding you.”

He reached over and tucked a wet strand behind my ear, his touch lingering before he stepped back. “Fate may deal its hand, try encouraging our path or intervene, but we are ultimately free to choose our own destiny. Never doubt that.”

“I thought you were without free will.”

His smile was tinged with sadness. “Choice is granted to all. But for some it comes with a price.”

“Did you get that tattoo to remind yourself of your choice?”

“Yes.” His gaze fastened onto mine. “I believe John Milton, a mortal poet, said it best. ‘Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.’ I told you the power of choice, the appeal it holds for me. I would do terrible things, unforgivable things, to choose my destiny. Cursed and wretched though it may be. It is mine. Unless you’ve been without true choice, you can’t understand the allure it holds.”

“What of the serpent, was that another choice?”

“All of the ink on my body, with the exception of our tattoos, were my choice.”

My attention fell to his lips and lingered before something a little lower caught my attention. Faintly, in silver ink, another phrase was scrawled under his left clavicle. I’d never seen it before. Without thinking, I ran my fingertips across the writing. Acta non verba.

I had no trouble understanding that one. Actions, not words.

“And the design on your thigh?”

Wrath went still, and it was only then that I realized I’d drifted near enough that our bodies were almost touching. I forgot my question, forgot everything except the fire in his gaze as it slowly consumed me inch by inch. I didn’t think he could see much because the water was nearly to my neck, but it certainly didn’t feel as if that were any true barrier.

When he looked at me with the heated intensity he was now… any lingering hatred or animosity between us burned away. Perhaps that was the truth he did not want revealed by the lagoon. The world’s magic took hold, encouraging my emotions until I could no longer deny my growing desire, either. His wet-slicked skin slid against mine as I closed the distance.

Maybe it was the dreamlike beauty of the celestial scene painted on the ceiling, or the sultry steam of the Crescent Shallows. Or maybe it was simply yearning made flesh, but I craved the sensation of his hands on my body. We were two consenting adults. And I wanted him to unleash all of his sensual power on me.

I thought about my earlier fantasy of him taking me against the wall or table.

Never, in all my life, had I reacted to someone in such a carnal way. I’d had crushes, dreams of kisses and more, but this was no small infatuation. This was desire in its purest form.

My longing was growing out of control. I wanted to touch him, no longer content with denying myself or my passions. All I needed to do was take that first step.

I rolled up onto my toes and brushed his damp hair back in gentle strokes.

I waited to see if he’d put distance between us. If he’d tell me I was the last creature in all the realms combined that he’d want. His expression was almost as tense as his body. I couldn’t tell if he was fighting attraction, or if he was dutifully allowing an enemy to seduce him.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against the ink along his collarbone, giving him another opportunity to move. Instead of stepping aside, his hand splayed across my lower back, holding me in place. I knew, without a doubt, the mighty warrior would let me go if I decided to stop or walk away. My mouth moved to his other shoulder, kissing him there.

“Emilia.” He said my name softly. It was so close to the version of him I’d conjured in the Sin Corridor, but this wasn’t another fantasy. This moment was real.

“I know you won’t tell me your true name.” I trailed my hands down his chest. His intense gaze tracked each of my movements. “But it feels a little odd, murmuring ‘Wrath’ at a time like this.”

I flicked my attention back up as he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against mine. The mighty general of war was struggling with some inner battle. Perhaps he was worried this was another game of strategy, one he’d lose if he started playing by my rules.

I no longer knew if his fear was warranted. For once, we were on equal ground.

“So maybe we shouldn’t worry about talking anymore,” I continued. “At least not tonight.” I explored the ridges of his abdomen, and he did not move away or flinch from my touch. “Maybe we can both choose to communicate a different way. Without words.”

I thought about our last kiss, how savage and unrestrained it had turned. It was fueled by primal need and lust. I guided his face down to mine and brushed my lips across his. It was whisper soft, sweet. There was a question in it, one I wasn’t sure he’d answer.

This time I wanted things to be different. Even if it wasn’t meant to last. We could have tonight, this moment, and surrender to whatever magnetic force was pulling us together.

There was no past or future, simply the present.

This encounter did not have to mean more than what it was. We did not have to fall in love or forget our schemes. Tonight we could form a truce, one that lasted only until sunrise. For one night, we could stop pretending this wasn’t what we both desired. If I faced this unfamiliar part of me now, maybe the realm would stop tormenting me with so many sensual illusions.

I broke away from our embrace. “Unless you don’t want this.”

For one heart-pounding second, he didn’t react. I thought I’d misjudged the moment. Then Wrath answered with a tender kiss and it didn’t feel like he was my enemy. Or as if he was kissing me for any reason other than the fact he wanted to. Down in this chamber, far from the watchful eyes of his court and the roles we were supposed to play, we could simply be.

He chose this. Just as I did. And choice was power.

His strong hands slid down my sides as he stepped closer, bringing us flush together. I was suddenly surrounded by him, his scent, his massive body. All of his power and attention. He felt like living magic—maybe even more so than our last two encounters.

Something inside me came alive.

This time, when he swept his tongue into my mouth it was all I could do to not buckle from the sheer bliss. My hands drifted to his hips, and his inched down to mine, slipping under the warm water and gliding along my back as he anchored me against him.

I arched into his touch, forgetting any notion of going slowly. I needed pleasure. And I wanted him to give it to me as much as I would give in return. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He smiled against my neck before pressing a chaste kiss below my ear. I didn’t have to see his face to know he was amused by my response. “Your highness is quite demanding.”

If he was trying to distract me with that summoning Mark again, it wasn’t working. Each time he’d touched it before, it doused any elevated emotions. I wouldn’t allow it to distract either of us now. The part of me that had just awoken didn’t want to drift off and slumber again.

My hands dipped below the water and I slowly dragged them back up his legs before sliding them away again.

He cursed under his breath and I grinned. “No more talking, remember?”

“Keep doing that, and I’m going to damn all the deities.”

I drew small circles on his thigh, moving them higher and higher until his full attention zeroed in on precisely where he wished I’d explore next. Let him have a taste of how wild he’d driven me at dinner. “It’s terrible, isn’t it? Wanting something so badly only to be teased when it’s finally within reach.”

Apparently, he received my message loud and clear. His hand slid between my legs and he touched his tongue to mine the precise moment he stroked against that aching part of me. I gasped into his mouth, but it was cut off as he drew me tighter to him. His arousal pressed against my body. Hard and enticing. Just like him.

“Is this better, my lady?”

Oh, goddess, yes. Much better.

He slowly circled that wicked finger around my apex, all the while kissing me senseless. Heat exploded in my veins with each taunting stroke. I’d made a few poor choices in my life, but taking Wrath as a lover would not be one of them. He’d be just as unrestrained as I’d imagined, and that primal part of me welcomed this new battle of wills.

I lifted my hips, urging him to continue his exploration as I wound my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. His finger partially plunged inside and I bit down on a moan. He withdrew it, his focus entirely on my body’s reaction to the motion; the slight, shuddering exhalation, the way I reflexively moved against him, and held on tighter. He was learning what gave me the most pleasure, varying it a little and repeating it.

Goddess help me. The demon of war was a strategist on all levels.

He gently rubbed against that throbbing part of me with a second finger before turning his attention back to his slow, drugging kisses. Fire. Through no magic except for the exquisite power of his touch, he was turning my body into a million tiny flames of desire.

And he knew it. All of the teasing was driving me wild.

“Will you take me to your bedchamber?” My voice was like smoke. “Now.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” More than anything. I managed to nod and his clever fingers rewarded me with another loving stroke. “Hurry.”

He nipped at my lower lip. “Does my queen command it?”

“Yes.” Oh, goddess yes.

“Am I your humble servant now?”

I drew back. There was a devilish glint in his eyes. Even if I wanted to answer, my response was obliterated with his next kiss. We both knew he was not the kind to be ordered around. So he didn’t rush. The Wicked creature took his time kissing me, all the while his fingers kept exploring, teasing, wringing pleasure in ways I didn’t know were possible.

He’d promised I would not mistake reality with an illusion when he touched me. He hadn’t been lying. The Sin Corridor, this realm, nothing could compare to the magic of him.

The next time he touched me, I involuntarily rocked my hips forward and he finally answered my silent plea. His fingers slid all the way in, and he gently bit down on my lip to quiet my gasp. Which only succeeded in driving me wilder.

“Take your pleasure, my lady.” I tentatively repeated the rocking motion. He watched me, his gaze burning. “Just like that.”

He captured my moan with his next kiss and I buried my hands in his hair, needing to feel more of him. Somehow I’d leapt up and wrapped my legs around his hips. His free arm easily secured me in place. The sensation of the warm bubbling water and the friction of his calloused fingers was enough to drive me over the edge with raw need. Instinct took over.

Our bodies pressed together, our tongues and teeth and mutual hunger pumping through my veins. I realized the magic of the world wasn’t creating this longing; it was enhancing what I already felt. And I felt more than I’d ever allowed myself to admit. I rolled my hips in time with each of his deep strokes. No longer timid in chasing the pleasure he was giving me.

In my fervor to experience all sensations, I slid down his body, accidentally brushing against his hardness. He moaned, the sound deep and rumbling. My grin was pure wicked delight. I repeated the motion and air hissed through his teeth. His kisses turned ravenous.

I steadily rocked up and down on his hand, against him. Heat was building to a crescendo within me, searching for release. His eyes were glazed from his own mounting lust, his fingers still buried inside me. I’d never seen him look out of control before. It only added to my pleasure.

“Emilia—” I silenced him with a kiss. Forget his room. I’d take him here. Now. My hand closed around his arousal and he groaned. “Demon blood, I need to—”

“Take me to bed. Now.”

The prince of Wrath, who would not be commanded by anyone, submitted to my order.

Without any more taunting or teasing, he magicked us, bodies half-tangled together, to his bedchamber.

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