Page 29 of Greed: The Savage (Seven Deadly Sins #7)

S he’d been cursed by the gods with an insatiable appetite, and blessed at the same time in the deliverance of Malric, a man who’d never be sated.

At long last, she understood, the heady awareness of her own beauty and power as a woman—the lure that made women willingly give themselves over to mistrustful, untrustworthy men. It was why Delilah and the other girls happily tossed up their petticoats.

With one notable difference.

Addien could not imagine herself with any man but Malric Mauley, the Marquess of Thornwick—and it terrified her to her bones.

Malric’s slow crawl across the mattress toward her was unhurried, deliberate. He wore the same pleased, cocksure smile she’d found on his lips when she’d first awakened. And God help her—it made her want him all the more.

“You look scared, minx,” he said silkily, the words piercing through the fog of lust he’d wrapped around her.

“Of you?” she scoffed, somehow finding the strength to feign disdain. “As if I ever could. I fear no man.”

That had once been true. She wasn’t sure when it had stopped being so.

Lust burned in his eyes, so fierce she swore it scorched her skin. With a low growl, he caught her ankle.

“Come to me,” he ordered—dragging her toward him even as he commanded it.

That relentless need, that possessive demand for her to affirm he was the only man she wanted in her bed and in her arms, set her ablaze.

The fire began between her thighs and roared outward in a great, consuming conflagration.

The telltale flare of his nostrils betrayed that he was just as lost to lust as she.

Moaning, she let her legs fall wider apart. She beckoned and begged in the same breath and didn’t care. He was what she wanted, terrifyingly so. She would take him however she could, in whatever way he’d give himself.

“My God,” he breathed, starting a trail of kisses along the arch of her foot. “You are bloody magnificent.”

And as always, after receiving that rare, high praise from this man—so cold and unfeeling to others—it had the same shattering effect on her.

Moaning, Addien fell back, opening herself to welcome his worship.

Her eyes slid shut, centering on every inch of flesh where he bestowed his benediction. Malric’s tongue darted out, tracing a slow, wet path that his hard, masterful lips followed with soft, unexpectedly tender kisses.

That side of him as a lover—this ruthless, all-powerful warrior—was as surprising as it was intoxicating.

A man capable of plowing her into the mattress could also touch her as though she were the most precious thing he’d ever held.

Her body responded as if he’d gifted her something priceless. Her cunny wept for him.

A master in bed, Malric didn’t falter. His mouth moved languorously up her leg while one hand wrapped around her ankle, guiding it to rest across his shoulder so he could reach that sensitive spot he’d discovered last night behind her left knee.

His other hand slid into her nest of curls, working those long, skilled fingers inside her exactly the way she craved.

Addien rocked shamelessly into his palm. Pride had long since ceased to matter where this man was concerned. She could no more deny herself his touch than a dying man could refuse a final drink.

When he found that sweet spot deep within her, she hissed between her teeth and bucked upward.

“Right here?” he asked, voice ragged.

“You know it is, Malric—” The rest of her impatient snarl broke into a gasp as he moved his fingers just so.

Without relenting, he lifted his mouth from the inside of her thigh, flashing a wolfish smile. “Yes, I do,” he said silkily. “Me. And only me.”

If words could preen, those would.

“Aye, you, bloody arrogant man.” Her voice purred, stripping any sting from the words.

“I need to have you.”

With impatience pulsating from him, Malric pulled his hand away and scrambled up her body, not even pausing to strip fully. Shoving his front falls down, his long, thick shaft sprang free.

“Yes!” she cried, bucking her hips, urging him faster to where she needed him.

And he obliged as he did, and only did, in sex.

“Don’t say you didn’t ask for it.” He taunted them both with their mutual want.

“As if I could,” she conceded him that admission and he rewarded her. Emitting a savage’s growl, he buried himself deep inside her.

Addien cried out.

Where last night had been laced with moments of tenderness, there was nothing slow or gentle about this taking.

Now, he unleashed his full lust on her.

Catching her wrists in one large, unyielding hand, he forced them high above her head, holding her motionless as he drove into her—again and again, each thrust harder than the last. They grunted like the animals they became in each other’s arms. Flesh slapped flesh in the brutal rhythm he set.

Keening, Addien writhed beneath him, twisting to free her hands so she could rake her nails down his back, claim some part of him—but he kept her bound, kept her wanting.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded, his hips pounding into hers with feral precision. The wild, primal sounds of their joining filled her ears and drove her want to another level.

“ You .” Tears slid down her temples at the desperate ache in her chest.

Thornwick leaned down and bit her neck—hard—staking his claim. He pounded into her with a frenzied, punishing rhythm, words breaking on his breath.

“Perfect…”

“Bloody exquisite…”

“…close…”

“…Only woman…”

Through their violent mating, the fragments pierced her. Only woman what? The only woman who made him feel this way? The only woman he wanted? The thought terrified her—and she met him thrust for thrust, pouring her fear and frustration into the clash of their bodies.

His eyes flew open, locking on hers—lust-dark and dangerous as the pace he set.

“You are mine,” he growled, like some primitive beast staking his mate.

That first complete sentence—an unflinching claim—shoved her over the brink.

“Malric,” she sobbed, tears spilling freely now. The sound of her weeping seemed to break something in him.

With a savage shout, he released her wrists, seized her hips, and drove deeper, fingers biting into her flesh.

“ Addien. Addien. Addien .” Her name left his lips as both plea and curse, each one punctuated by the slam of his hips.

She kept coming—wave after shuddering wave—until pleasure turned almost to agony, stealing her breath. And he was right there with her, riding it into the same exquisite torment.

Then, like a tortured beast, Malric’s entire body, gleaming with the sweat of his violent taking, shuddered as he exploded within Addien.

Bracing one hand on either side of her, as though even holding himself up was beyond him, he poured into her in hot, relentless spurts.

Addien came all over again, joining him in his climax, crying and screaming until he’d wrung every last pleasure drop from her.

She collapsed into the folds of her sweaty mattress.

With a guttural groan, he gave a last flex of his hips and collapsed atop her.

Malric lay that way for too short of a moment, then rolled off Addien and drew her against his side. He lay a possessive hand over Addien, draping it over her belly and cupping the place where his cock had just been, he rubbed their mingled spend over her already sodden curls.

Sated, replete, she lay against him and welcomed the tender kisses he placed as a reward upon the top of her head and along her nape. Unlike the savage kisses of before, now he gave her the rare gift of his gentleness.

As the remnants of her explosive orgasm faded, she found herself pulled from the heavens back to the Earth.

Reality drifted in and just as it had last evening, the fear along with it.

God help her, and hers was a prayer to a God she’d never had reason to believe in. She wanted him. She wanted more than sex from him. She wanted…

“Marry me, Addien.”

Yes, she wanted to marry—

Addien stilled. Wait… Her heart pounded. What had he said?

Malric, in one fluid motion, flipped their positions and brought her under him.

“Marry me,” he repeated, his eyes deadly serious.

Her head buzzing, she just stared blankly at him. Because he couldn’t mean what he’d just said.

His hard lips formed a loose, sensuous smile.

The smug smile made sense; it made all of this make sense.

All the air trapped in her lungs, and a cinch wrapped around them, squeezing and preventing her from getting any air into them.

Masking her hurt, too late, Addien brought both hands up and gave a hard shove. “Get the hell off me, yer lordship,” she hissed.

His big frame barely budged.

His rugged features displayed not cynical amusement but confusion.

How dare he? And worse, how dare she let her guard down and let herself…fall in love?

Addien strangled and choked. “My God, no, no.”

“What in hell is wrong with—Oomph.”

Addien’s knee connected squarely with his groin.

With a groan, Malric clutched himself.

Addien used his surprise to roll out from under him. Her chest heaving, she scrambled to the far side of the bed.

In those few seconds, he’d already mastered himself, standing easy, shoulders loose, but eyes locked on her like a predator sighting prey. She gnashed her teeth. Of course he had. He was larger than most men, forged of steel.

And she’d learned all too well, capable of the greatest cruelty.

Her lower lip threatened to tremble; she bit the inside to steady it, then jabbed a finger toward the doorway.

“Get the hell out of my room, Malric.” Desperation made her reckless.

Snarling, she launched herself onto the mattress so she loomed over him on the uneven surface.

“Didn’t ye hear me?” she raged. “Oi said get the ’ell out. ”

He didn’t move.

His stillness was worse than any threat.

The air shifted—heavy, charged—like the silence in St. Giles before a gang reckoning. His jaw flexed. A muscle ticked at his temple.

“Do you know, Addien,” he said softly, “I do not believe I will.”

Indignation should have been her response to his assertion. Instead, there was only hurt—and the sick fear he could see it.

Addien gasped as Malric drew her down beneath the broad wall of his body. Heat poured off him, heat and memory. Of how he’d taken her: tender, fierce, with purpose, and in every way there was. And afterward, how he’d held her while she drifted into the safest sleep she’d ever known.

He’d stripped away her fight. Hell, he’d already taken her pride. What was left for him to claim?

Tears pricked. She’d sooner die than let him see them.

Her gaze slid to the crumpled sheets—to the faint, faded smear of crimson. Her throat worked. “You silly nobs,” she said thickly.

His hand came up, so broad as to span her whole face. Malric cupped her cheek in a hold that was as claiming as it was gentle. In a command to look at him, his thumb stroked her but once. And when she did, there was no getting free.

“Do you truly believe I’m like the fops you despise?” His gaze scoured her, soul-deep, as if he’d wrench the truth straight from her if she dared lie.

She shook her head. “N–No.” He was unlike any man she’d known—larger than life. Honorable.

Honorable enough to try to do right by a gel like her.

Addien’s stare slipped back to the mark made by her virginity.

Malric tightened his hold.

He’d demand all her answers.

Addien forced herself to look at him. “You think it matters that I was a virgin?” Her voice wavered, but warmth curled inside at the thought he cared—that he thought she mattered. “It doesn’t.”

His brow dipped.

He’d make her say it.

Even though it cost her, she forced the words out. “You don’t have to offer for me because of what we did here, Malric.”

Instant understanding shadowed his hooded eyes. In one fluid motion, he rolled to his side, drawing her with him until they lay face to face. “You think that’s why I’ve asked you to be my marchioness and future duchess?”

“It isn’t?” she brought herself to ask.

“No.” Lowering his head, Malric lightly kissed her neck. This kiss teased as much as it tempted. A shiver went through her. “But I’ll tell you this.” His breath raked hot over her skin. “Knowing I’m the only man who’s ever had you makes me determined to keep it that way, love.”

Her heart stirred.

It hadn’t been his mention of becoming a marchioness or the even more illustrious one of duchess, but rather…

Love.

That endearment fell from his lips as easily as it had during the heat of passion. In the quiet of this moment, that whispered “love” spoken in his possessive tones, proved even more intoxicating.

Malric palmed her breast and raised it to his mouth. Drawing the peak deep, he suckled her.

Moaning, Addien tangled her fingers in his hair slick from when he’d washed while she’d slept. “Wh-why?”

As he turned his attention to the neglected tip, he slipped a hand between her legs. “Why does it feel this good?”

No. She knew why.

Him. It was all because of him.

Thornwick plunged a finger into her channel and Addien bit her lip to keep from crying out.

“M-Marry me,” Addien moaned.

“Gladly, love.” He rewarded her with another finger.

Torn between a laugh and a moan, Addien moved her hips against his hand. “Why do you want to m-marry me?”

Malric palmed her mound and slipped his middle finger inside.

She gasped.

He’d mastered her body and knew precisely how she loved to be touched and he put that knowledge to use—for her benefit.

He hadn’t answered her.

And she didn’t even care.

There’d be time enough—

“Revenge.” His hot, dangerous whisper stirred her breast.

Her head clouded from desire, Addien tried to make sense of that admission of just one word.

He palmed both her breasts and brought the flesh together, lightly dragging his tongue back and forth over the two pebbled peaks, wet from his mouth and hungry for more.

“Revenge,” he echoed huskily.

Revenge against…?

“The duke.”

Her hips sank into the mattress.

A chill went through her; it banked the fire he’d set off within.

Everything hurt.

Which was a strange thing when Malric hadn’t even landed a blow.

She’d been wrong.

There’d been another piece for Malric to rob Addien of—her heart.