Page 32 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood (Tales So Wicked #2)

My judgmental inner voice scoffs. Am I really doing this just to make Harrow jealous? No. Surely not. Cassius is gallant, kind, and ridiculously good-looking. My want for him has nothing to do with Harrow’s rejection.

Alright, it has a little bit to do with it, but I would have submitted to Cassius in a heartbeat if he had courted me properly. This turn of events just gave me the chance to take the lead first.

The backs of my thighs hit the windowsill. “Cassius.” His name sweeps along my lips like a song of desire. Cassius’s mouth is hot and frenzied as he tastes my lips, neck, face?—

I expected retaliation, but the darkness that invades my room still takes me by surprise. My fireplace extinguishes, sconces blinking out in an instant. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle a fraction of a second before he arrives.

Cassius’s mouth is still on mine when the shadows strike. He’s ripped from my arms, his body sent sailing across the room. The sound of impact when his body hits the walls makes me wince. He slumps to the ground, limp.

I don’t have a chance to worry about his injuries before Harrow is there. His presence consumes the room, shadows swallowing the very air around us until it’s only him and me.

When I look up, I find narrowed silver eyes scorching down at me. Oh shit .

His voice is deadly soft. “What a naughty little raven you’ve been.”

I open my mouth to speak, but my tongue is frozen. Harrow moves into my space, pushing me back.

“Did you enjoy kissing your prince?” Fear has me tripping over my feet. “Foolish princess. You just had to learn the hard way that jealousy has very real consequences, didn’t you?”

Harrow corners me, forcing my back to dig into the bedpost again. “Is this where he kissed you?” He drops his lips to my ear. “Is this where you were going to let him have you?”

Something glides up the inside of my calf. I try to look down. Harrow grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his dazzling gaze. The shadow moving up my thigh dips beneath the hem of my panties. “Harrow?—”

Harrow tsks. “Just a moment ago, it was Cassius’s name you were moaning.”

“I didn’t?—”

“There’s no use lying, little raven. I can feel how badly you wanted him.” The shadows glide through my slickness. “Tell me where you wanted him to touch you. Was it here?”

The shadow slides against my clit, making me whimper. Incoherent sounds tumble out of me as the tendril strokes me again.

“Should I sever his fingers to ensure he never has the chance?”

I suck in a breath, eyes snapping back up to meet Harrow’s.

He watches me, starlight swirling in his irises as he lowers himself to the ground before me.

His pale, moonlit hands raise my nightgown up, settling it above my hips.

Shadows wrap around the edges of my underwear, dragging them down.

Harrow bends forward, tongue dragging along the inside of my thigh.

I have to bite my fist to avoid moaning this time.

“Should I cut out his tongue so he can never taste you this way?”

He slides his tongue along the inside of the opposite thigh, stopping just below the place where I’m dripping with wanton desire.

“I didn’t want him.” I groan as his mouth trails kisses on either side of my pelvis.

Teeth scrape across my hip bone. “What did I say about lying?”

“I wanted it to be you. You were right, I was just trying to make you?—”

His tongue dips between my folds. I dig my fingers into his bone-white hair, anchoring myself.

“Jealous?” He flicks his tongue across my throbbing bud.

Gasping, I manage, “ Yes .”

“You’ve been playing a dangerous game. What would you have let him do if I hadn’t come?” Two fingers toy at my entrance. “Touch you? Taste you? Fuck you?”

I glance over at where Cassius is slumped, unconscious on the floor. If he wakes up, he’ll see us. Harrow may be hidden from sight, but not my very exposed body.

Harrow thrusts two fingers inside me, making my knees buckle. I tear my eyes away from Cassius, deciding it’s worth the risk. Harrow’s tongue flicks back and forth, working in unison with the slow, deliberate movements of his fingers.

“Oh, yes…” My head falls back, pleasure curling low in my belly. Harrow glares up at me. I whine when he removes his mouth and rises, fingers still working within me. He runs his tongue along my throat before kissing a path to my ear.

“If he had fucked you, I would have sliced off his cock and choked him to death with it. Is that what you wanted?”

“No.” My body grows tense, but the spike of adrenaline only feeds my building pleasure. “I want you. Please, I’ve wanted you. You’ve been gone.”

“You’re blaming my absence for your inability to keep your hands to yourself? Oh, Roseheart, that is pitiful.”

Inability to keep my hands to myself? My fingers move to the front of his trousers, gripping his hard length. Harrow hisses. The sound is a chilling reminder of how far from human he really is.

“Please,” I beg again. I beg because I do need Harrow.

I need him so badly I may cease to exist if I don’t have him, fully, right here, right now.

My fingers are shaky as I fumble with his pants.

The action frees something in him and he follows my lead, pulling his fingers from me as we tear at each other’s clothes.

Sheer desperation guides our movements. His actions reaffirm that he’s wanted me as badly as I’ve wanted him.

My fingers ache as I claw at his breastplate.

Why couldn’t he have arrived in casual clothes?

I have no fucking clue how to get him out of his armor.

He helps me, unclasping several areas until the shiny black pieces fall free.

His pants are next. My pussy clenches at the sight of his cock springing free.

The stiff length is long and utterly perfect.

I was worried it may always look more like a monster.

I do want to see him in his monster form.

Human sex comes first. Right now, it’s fully human, if not overly large. His mouth descends on mine.

“I never want to taste another man on your lips again.”

“Just other women then?” I tease, somehow finding humor in the midst of a passion so hot I have to laugh or risk burning to a cinder.

Harrow growls, nipping at my bottom lip. “These are my lips. No one touches you. No one tastes you.” His fingers push back inside me. My back arches, the decorative wood carvings on my bedpost digging into my spine. “No one fucks you but me.”

Our next kiss is long and rough with teeth gnashing at each other’s lips.

He crouches low, his mouth making a meal of every inch of my skin from my ankles up to my hips and everything in between.

I can’t help squirming as he explores me.

Those smooth firm lips leave me branded and tingling.

His path leads up again, teeth grazing along my stomach, each breast, onto my neck.

I’m so lost in the heady sensations that for a few moments I fail to notice that Harrow has stopped kissing me. When I open my eyes, he’s pulled back. His gaze fixated on my neck.

Oh shit . I throw my hands over the scar. Harrow catches my fingers, easily prying them away.

The cool, sparkling silver in his eyes hardens into something dark and metallic. “Who is responsible for this?” The words are gravel. “Who?”

“Just leave it. I’ll cover it back up.” My voice is panicked.

“ Who did this to you ?” The words are so forceful, so menacing that I flinch. Tears prick at my eyes. I don’t want to talk about it. Can’t bear to tell the story. Harrow reads my every emotion. His face softens, but his voice remains hard as he slides a hand to my right temple. “Show me.”

A sound like a thunderclap booms through my mind.

Visions of my time in captivity come in flashes, so quickly I can’t grasp a single moment before the next one snaps into place.

Over and over, a carousel of the worst days of my life moves through my thoughts.

The final image settles on the three faces that haunt my dreams, the ones I’ll never forget.

There’s fear and anger in their eyes as they make their decision.

One raises the blade, cutting it across my neck ? —

Harrow pulls his hand back. I cough, choking through my tears as emotion floods my senses. He steps away, eyes flicking to the scar once more. Then he’s gone.