Page 31 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood (Tales So Wicked #2)

The rising moon signals another night locked away in my room.

At least there’s a handsome prince in the hallway.

Boredom clicks along the inside of my skull like an unwanted insect, constantly reminding me that I’m fate’s tragic muse trapped in a perfect, pristine prison.

I am not meant to have my wings clipped.

The giddiness of Cassius taking over my watch faded quickly.

It doesn’t change things. It’s still me, alone, in my room.

Any more days in here and the chances of me bashing my head through my sunset-stained window will become too high to ignore.

I sit on my windowsill, having ditched my overly tight corset in favor of a viridian dressing gown.

Cream lace details have been sewn at the wrists and up in the high collar.

This was meant to be one of the outfits I wore for my new husband.

Now—dead husband. The elegant night attire ties at the waist, shielding the emerald slip dress beneath.

It’s a stunning outfit. What a waste it would have been to wear it for that old man.

I would rather have worn it for another. Several others in fact.

My teeth click click click as I bite a loose piece of skin free from the inner corner of my right index finger.

I work it with my teeth until blood soaks the skin and makes it too slippery to grab on to the same piece.

I move on to the next finger, still unsatisfied.

Smooth, perfect skin. Is that too much to ask for?

The sting of each new self-inflicted wound has become almost comforting.

The pain is also a good distraction from my endless loop of thoughts.

Harrow hasn’t come to me since the labyrinth. Even the feathers have stopped appearing on my pillow. Surely that wasn’t the last time I would get to see him. My stomach pits at the thought of him never coming back.

The sinking feeling twists, becoming something heavy and tight as I think about our last moments together.

A monster . He was a literal monster. And I let that monster…

My cheeks burn.

It’s not even that he touched me like that .

It’s that I’ve never felt anything like it and haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

When he released that first orgasm from my all-too-eager body, he awakened something deep within me.

Something dark, hungry. An emptiness now sits, teeth snapping, hidden mouth wide, in all those places his shadows filled.

My darkness calls to his darkness, recognizing our similarities.

I’m not the same person after what happened in the labyrinth. It wasn’t the monster or the chase in the maze. I changed the moment Harrow and I kissed in the ballroom.

Thinking about that kiss has me realizing just how lonely I am. There are dozens of people working, living, or socializing in the castle at any given time and still, I’m so terribly lonely.

Emotionally, I want someone to laugh with and confide in. Physically, I want someone to sweep me off my feet and worship my body like it’s their own personal temple.

Who do I want more in this moment? Harrow or Cassius?

I shouldn’t have to choose. I want both and I want them to want me.

I look out into the night. Where is my winged man?

For the briefest moment I see him. He steps free from the darkness, that ethereal face beaming up at me.

As quickly as he appears to me, he vanishes.

The sexual tension in my body and frustration in my heart collide.

I’ll get his attention and if he refuses to give me what I need, I’ll find it where I’m able.

I lie back. My hands roam between my thighs as I lean into the fantasy of the two of them. The dark angel outside my window, and the prince beyond my door.

The idea of both men in my room, skin bare, has me panting at the first touch of my fingers against my arousal-dampened skin.

The bronze of Cassius’s sun-kissed skin contrasting against the snow-white of Harrow’s lean form would be too beautiful to look away from.

My fingers swirl against my clit at the thought of the two of them taking turns delivering me pleasure until I can’t take any more.

What would they do to me? Cassius would kneel before me, his mouth seeking hidden places.

Harrow would make me kneel for him, and I’d do it.

I picture Harrow’s long, pale fingers buried in in my hair, guiding my face toward a fully erect cock.

My own fingers dip inside my center, pushing deep and making me gasp.

The image is so clear in my mind. I can almost hear the wet sloppy sounds as I choke down Harrow’s length, my heart racing with my lips tightly wrapped around the thick girth of him.

I curl my fingers upward, chest heaving.

Would Harrow come in my mouth? If he did, would I be able to swallow it down?

Pressure builds inside me. What could both of those men do with their attentions fully focused on me? Fantasies swirl to life inside me.

C assius with his face between my thighs, tasting every bit of me while I taste Harrow for myself.

I brush my thumb over my clit. Both men deep inside me at the same time. How would that work? One of them would have to be… Oh lord . The lewdness of that desire sends a shudder of pleasure running through me.

I want their mouths all over me, tongues, teeth, tearing me apart. I want them to take me in every position they can, and then I want Harrow in his other form.

Does his monster hunger for Cassius’s cock the way I’m ravenous for both? The things those shadows could do to my charming prince…

The more I imagine their attentions on each other, the more I realize I don’t want to share. I’ll have both, wholly. I desire them in different ways. One in the morning. Cassius of course. The sun streaming in will light up our bodies as we fill the sunrise hours with the sounds of our pleasure.

I’d have Harrow at night. Let the moonbeams illuminate us as we dare to try things I’d never speak of to another. Letting our moans echo off the sleepy castle walls.

Cassius’s warm hands and Harrow’s cold shadows . My cries of ecstasy as I'm stuffed with sunshine and shadow until I lose all control…

I’m so close, so close. I snap my eyes open, seeking my monster in the darkness.

My hands are unsatisfactory after the shadow touches from Harrow.

I need him. I need to be touched by someone other than myself.

Surely he’s still watching. Boldness floods my veins and I raise my free hand, beckoning him to me.

Harrow appears once more, stepping forward. I knew he was still there . Instead of answering my wish, though, he backs away, disappearing into the shadows. Rejection cuts through the haze of my lust. Embarrassment and anger combine to form something dangerous in my gut.

If Harrow doesn’t want me, I know someone who does.

Sitting up and shoving my nightdress down, I leave my windowsill.

My huff of frustration blows the wayward hair from my face.

Crossing my room, I allow my confidence to grow with each step.

What’s the harm in pursuing my desires? Someone killed my betrothed.

The moment he died, I became a free woman. Untethered to another.

Cassius’s tawny eyes grow wide in surprise as I swing my door open.

“Princess, is something wrong?” His hand moves to the hilt of his sword.

When I don’t answer right away, he steps into the doorway, worry lining his face. Cassius is so broad he nearly blocks out the doorframe completely.

Rising on my tiptoes, I grab him by the back of the neck and pull his face down to meet mine.

“Princ—” he starts, but the word cuts short as my lips crash against his. Cassius halts our kiss, pulling back and gripping both of my shoulders. He stares at me, a shocked and conflicted expression on his face. Embarrassment burns through the lusty flush already warming my neck.

My body shifts backward ever so slightly. Cassius’s grip tightens, and before I can back away, his mouth finds mine. The warmth of his hands as they move to cup my cheeks matches the fire spreading through the entirety of my body. Liquid sunshine spills into my veins.

Cassius grips my waist and I melt into him. His hold loosens as he quickly speaks. “I’ve sworn to guard you this evening.” His words brush against my lips.

I’m wired, intoxicated with the pure rush of going after what I want. I break our kiss long enough to give him a coy smile. “Surely you can guard me better from the close proximity of my bed.”

He grins. There’s something hidden beneath that smile, a tantalizing wickedness that only occasionally peeks through. His hands find my waist again, rougher this time. I’m backed into one of the four posts of my bed. Blood pounds in my ears as he reaches for the hem of my nightgown.

Without thinking, I stop him. My hands find his, and his movements halt. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes.” The word is rushed. Cassius looks less than reassured. Why am I so nervous? I will myself to relax, but my grip on his only tightens. He drops my nightgown. Damn, my anxiety is messing everything up.

Reaching behind his belt, he procures a small, silver flask. “Liquid courage?”

I’m tempted to take a long swig of whatever is in that beautifully ornate container. Alcohol would definitely help my nerves. I raise a finger to my lips, pulling my cuticle between my teeth before quickly dropping my hand.

“No. I don’t need it.” I was almost poisoned. I’ve let a monster touch me. Not to mention I was murdered and came back from the dead. Life is so unpredictable it’s giving me whiplash. No more moments taken for granted. I’m done hiding my wants and desires behind some useless wall of embarrassment.

My hands slide up Cassius’s broad chest. Gripping him by his extravagant jeweled collar, I pull him away from the bed, diving in for another kiss as I maneuver us closer to the window.