Page 88 of Hell-Bound

Yes.

His lips met hers with a hunger—the ache in her core now a throb of desire. He pulled himself onto the desk and straddled her, breathing low groans into her mouth.

“You feel so perfect,” he growled, lifting her hips up to meet his and clasping his hand around the back of her neck. She could feel his hardness as he pulled her leg up to wrap around his waist.

She was shattered, only able to breathe in gasps and whimpers.

He jerked, pulling her even closer as if wanting to crawl inside her. Another jerk—and his wings, large and menacing, ripped through the flesh of his back, shredding his shirt and vest.

Ren stifled a cry of surprise into his mouth but refused to break the embrace. It felt too perfect in his arms. She trailed her fingers down his chest, letting the tips of her fingers quiver in the pleasure of his perfect skin.

He slowed down, his kisses turning sultry and needy before he gently pulled away. He lifted her chin delicately and traced his gaze across her expectant lips—blinking slowly, as if seeing her for the first time. His breath ragged, his cheeks flushed. His glowing eyes, endlessly deep, surveying her as if she were the only person he wished to admire for the rest of his Immortal life. His eyebrows were tucked together, lips slightly parted.

“Ren?”

“Yes,” she said, struggling to catch her breath.

“Please. Could you remove yourself from my desk?”

He straightened, vanishing his wings.

She let out a choked sound, and before she could stop herself—she reared her hand back and slapped him.

Both of their mouths fell open, hers in disbelief, his almost proud. She angrily hopped off his desk and left, slamming the doorbehind her.

I am Greed. I will not allow him to take Vutar’ka Zhartun. Or Ren. I possess them fully.

She was done pouting like a child. Instead, she would put their encounters in the back of her mind and remain aloof towards Azur. This was all a game to him—he was chasing pleasure and envy. Fine. She would chase hers, too. If he was going to use her, then she would use him.

It was on her way to her rooms that she spotted Jester grumbling to himself and holding various ornate fabrics. He looked a bit frazzled, but other than that, unharmed.

“There you are!” he said, relief replacing his bothered expression. “I’ve been wandering around trying to deliver this to you.” He strode over and pushed his load into her arms. “Dresses for you tonight—I raided Zelaia’s closet. The garments in your wardrobe aren’t appropriate as theconsortof the King of Hells,” he said with a knowing look.

“Could you not? I’m already dealing with enough right now.”

“I can see that,” he said, pointing at her neck. “The entire court is going to gowild.”

Her eyes widened. She had completely forgotten through her lustful encounter that Azur hadbrandedher. She turned on her heel, dropping dresses to the floor, and ran to her room, skidding before halting in front of the vanity.

Starting behind her ear and following the curve of her shoulder was a red tattoo, iridescent and catching the light. It was unreadable to her but recognizable in its sharp, devilish writing.

“I’ve seen worse. At least yours glitters. Very thoughtful of him,” Jester said, approaching and holding the dresses that had tumbled to the floor.

“What does it say?” she demanded.

“Property of Sexy King Lord Shiny Hair,” he said, dumping the dresses.

“No, it doesnot!”she countered.

He giggled.

“No. It doesn’t. There isn’t a direct translation. It says Threxis elt Igdthen Mashrez. The closest it comes istouch her and die, or something. Maybetouch her, and I’ll stick my claws into your windpipe?”

Ren tugged on the hair near her scalp in exasperation. “I suppose this is what I agreed to.”

Jester tried and failed to hide his look of judgment as he stroked the fabric of a blue dress slung over the vanity.

“I’m trying to figure this out as I go, okay?” she barked.