Page 88 of Paramour of Sin

He hadn’t yet decided to accept that, and until he did, he would push her away with threats. He did the same with me in the beginning. But we’d come to terms with one another decades ago. He trusted me, and I trusted him. And one day, hopefully soon, we’d both be able to trust Guinevere, too.

Lord Zebulon nodded at me. “We need to go back to Nashville. Take a shower. I’ll be in my study when you’re both ready.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Gwen

Lord Zebulon’s words haunted me as I showered.

I dried myself afterward in a daze, then pulled on my shorts and bra from last night, and folded my arms across my bare midriff, suddenly feeling a little too exposed.

He’d threatened me.

Said I would end up in a similar situation to Amarella if I ever betrayed him. She tried to overthrow him? A Demonic Lord? Why would she do such a thing? I’d never been one to desire power, I only ever craved control over myself and my own abilities. I couldn’t imagine trying to run a single city, let alone an entire territory.

Maybe not all demons were satisfied with their birthrights.

“I like being a succubus,” I mumbled to myself. “Other than the killing aspect.”

Zane kissed my exposed shoulder as he came up behind me. “I like being an incubus, too,” he murmured. “But why are we announcing this?”

“Because I don’t understand why someone in our position would want to overthrow our lord.” I faced him, ready to ask him more about Amarella, when the item in his hand distracted me.

He held out a blue dress shirt for me. “Zebulon doesn’t keep much in the way of casual clothes,” he explained. “This’ll have to do for now until we can replenish your wardrobe.”

I slipped my arms into the soft, satiny material, then buttoned it up, leaving the top three open. Zane had chosen a similar shirt, only his was white, and paired it with some khaki slacks from the Demonic Lord’s wardrobe.

“Do you often just help yourself to Lord Zebulon’s clothes?” I asked as I followed Zane from the bedroom. While we walked, I rolled the long sleeves of my borrowed shirt up over my elbows.

“When circumstances require it.”

“How often do circumstances require it?”

He grinned and shot me an amused look. “Why, are you jealous?”

“No.” I wasn’t jealous, just curious about the life they enjoyed together and how I might fit into it. Or if I even fit into it.

Did they consider me temporary? I supposed they probably did since I might be returning to Hell for a permanent visit soon.

Did they share women often? I wouldn’t mind, really. It wasn’t like I had a stake in either of them. But I did wonder what it would be like to call them mine.

Last night had proven that Lord Zebulon could keep Zane and I satisfied…indefinitely.

But did he want that? Did Zane want that?

“Don’t overthink it, love,” Zane whispered into my ear as he led me down a grand staircase to the foyer below.

“I’m not overthinking it,” I lied.

“You are,” he countered, reaching for my hand as we reached the marble floor at the base of the stairs. He’d borrowed a pair of Lord Zebulon’s black shoes, too. The well-fitting outfit on Zane indicated how similar in size he was to our lord. They were both over six feet tall, broad in the shoulders, and slender in the waists. Muscular, but not overly so. More athletic and lean, andveryfit.

My mouth watered at the thought of them shirtless again.

Which earned me a grin from Zane. “Now that thought, I’ll accept.”

I rolled my eyes.

Then he tugged me down a hallway to Lord Zebulon’s office. He stood in his study with his back to us, his all-black outfit a deep contrast to Zane’s lighter tones. But both men beautifully pulled off the elegant dapper look.