Page 44

Although she’s been dominating this seduction, Malice’s confidence makes a gradual return.

Humming, he relocates his grazing hand from the top of her breast to the back of her scalp.

Carding through her locks, he crushes her hair and locks her in place, the better to lick the seam of her lips.

As predicted, this erudite demon is a quick study, his devious lips and territorial grip coaxing a mewl from Wonder.

When she spreads her mouth for him, their incisors nick and fight for the lead, the passive aggression enticing. His teeth rake over her lips, shearing back and forth, the delirious sensation too much to endure.

On a drugged gasp, Wonder veers back. “Give me your tongue,” she instructs, which may have come out like an overwhelmed, desperate plea.

Malice’s low, scrolling growl suggests as much. Eyes simmering, the demon obliges her request. His tongue flexes out, sliding lightly against hers, their combined strokes nudging Wonder to the ends of the earth. He dabs at her tongue, teasing and tracing.

On a whimper, Wonder mashes herself against him. The frenzied motion shoves their mouths harder together, on the brink of a full-bodied kiss. They siphon harsh blasts of air, limbs radiating like cords drawn to their limits.

Muttering a primitive noise, Malice fastens her to his athletic body, all that naked flesh radiating against her aching breasts, her antsy curves, her drenched pussy. And Stars, this delirium is potent to the point of grievous. Any moment, Wonder is going to spiral.

The almost-kiss is so profound, so close to the real thing. Her eyes moisten, she’s going to weep, and her heart shall break, because he’s that man, and he’s not that man. He’s Malice and Not Malice. And this is sublime, and it’s severe, and it’s not about to end.

Heady with arousal, she wedges her hands under his arms and scales her fingers over the quill tattoo. Malice hums against her lips. As the plates of his pectorals span her breasts, what’s left of Wonder’s resolve fractures.

“Kiss me,” she chokes against his mouth. “Kiss me, Malice.”

“Fuck,” he grits out. “Wonder.”

“Kiss me like you hate me. Kiss me like you love me—”

Malice snaps. With a ferocious snarl, his mouth crashes against hers.

Wonder cries out, his lips smothering the octave, swallowing it whole. That strong mouth seizes her own, hauling her into a full-muscled, full-throttle kiss, severing the cord at last.

Her cry expands into a wild moan. Although the makings of heat—pressure, density, fury—isn’t her reality, Malice manifests the sensation. His hot mouth sears her own, snatching her lips and peeling them apart.

At last, that deceptive tongue drives in and snatches hers.

Lightning crackles across Wonder’s flesh as he seals their mouths together, the dagger’s edge of his tongue lashing in with the deftness of a whip.

On a sob of equal abandon, she flings herself into him, hurling her lips with his, fusing them together.

Growling into her, Malice rocks them into motion, sprawling Wonder’s lips.

Their tongues writhe, riding one another so deeply that her toes curl.

Disintegrating into this devil, she pares one set of fingernails into his tattooed tailbone and fists the back of his disheveled hair, exercising the same hold Malice has on her locks.

His tongue rakes back and forth, the rhythm calamitous, destroying her equilibrium. Shackling her ass and skull in place, his mouth works into hers, putting his powerful frame into the exchange, tearing moans from Wonder like scattered pebbles.

And oh, merciful Fates. She can’t tell if they’re merely kissing or waging war on each other.

Yet the fantasies cannot compare, will never live up to this exquisite surrender.

He may not have tasted anyone this way, but he takes her mouth as if he’s done so for eternity, knowing which crevices to ply, which to stimulate, which to incite madness.

The force of his mouth shreds Wonder apart.

His kiss rips to pieces each prior daydream, expectation, and hope she’s ever had.

That hellish mouth ruins her. So she ruins him back.

With urgency, Wonder pries herself away and bites his lower lip. The brunt of her teeth threatens to puncture his skin because yes, yes—

“Fuck, yes,” Malice hisses, snaring her mouth again.

He hoists her against his naked torso, his upright cock slinging against her pussy. The kiss erupts. He steals her mouth like he knows her mouth, like he hates her mouth, like he loves her mouth.

Wonder spreads beneath him, his tongue whipping into her, the contact uproarious. Each synchronized thrust penetrates the apex of her limbs, her clit inflating to the point of anguish, her cunt dripping through her clothing and glazing his cock.

Unlike him, Wonder has been embraced this way before.

Yet Malice turns that fact into a fallacy.

With every thrust of his tongue, he proves the opposite to be true, as if no one has done this to her before.

His kiss doesn’t merely sweep aside every prior dalliance with a god.

No, Malice’s mouth demolishes those memories, eradicating them from history.

Palpitations slam against her chest. Her nipples mash into his cobbled pecs, and her cunt grinds with his bare cock, the friction of his crown and sac hefting another whine from Wonder.

She wants every villainous inch of that cock filling her pussy to the brink.

She needs him charging between her split thighs, breaking her open like a latch.

Wonder is going to shatter, but she can’t stop, and he’s not stopping. Their mouths heave apart, only to vault back at a different angle. This alters the strikes of his tongue, the sinuous beats compromising Wonder’s equilibrium.

Not to be outdone, she takes the initiative. On a grunt, she cinches around that insidious tongue and sucks hard.

Malice rasps, the reverberation traveling down her throat.

Enthralled, Wonder exerts pressure, tugging on him like it’s his phallus.

Then she frees her hands, only to confiscate his wrists and pound them into the facade above his head.

The position stretches his muscles, elongating that physique like a glorious sculpture.

His lips quirk against hers. He supplicates himself, though not without nudging his hips, probing her clit with the flared crown of his erection.

Wonder gasps, releasing her grip on his tongue a second before their heads bank, and they collide once more. Her tongue undulates with his, their mouths launching into one another at a drastic pace, sabotaging each other from yet another vantage point.

Malice reels away and slices his tongue across the line of her mouth, then nips the corner.

Before she can relish that effervescent delight, he kicks her head back with his mouth and snares her throat as she’d done earlier.

He scorches a trail down Wonder’s neck, imbuing her with a mystery reminiscent of heat, a crackling sensation akin to embers charging across her skin.

Crooning, the demon nicks and sucks his way to the cove of her neck and shoulder. The same place she had attacked him. There, he yanks the delicate skin between his lips and pulls, just as he’d done to her clitoris in the garden.

Wonder bows into him, her locks avalanching down her spine. It’s all she can do not to release his wrists from the shelves. Yet she holds on, holds onto him, holds onto this.

Her eyelids flutter, the pressure of his mouth excruciating. Her swollen lips hang ajar, incoherent noises tumbling out. She anchors against Malice, lost in a fever dream.

But when her groans amplify to entreaties, Malice rumbles in satisfaction and frees her throat. His head lifts, just as hers descends. They surge into one another, mouths clutching.

Now she knows. Malice kisses like an enemy, like every black desire hidden in these books.

It’s nothing she’s ever coveted. It’s everything she craves.

Their lips cling, wrenching on each other, tongues whipping fast and deep.

The kiss insulates her devastated cries, inaudible to an outsider but detonating from within.

A raindrop cuts down his profile and lands on her cheek. Only then does Wonder register her congested airways. Before this kiss suffocates her, she breaks away on a drugged gasp.

Malice unleashes a displeased sound. He shoots forward, about to rob her of sanity once more.

However agonizing it had been to end this, however much she wants that mouth again, Wonder moves quicker. Unshackling his wrists, she drops her shaky fingers against his mouth. “Please.”

The word comes out drained, winded as though he’d kissed Wonder to within an inch of her life. Malice stalls. His dilated pupils consume her, his features haggard, his lips red and swollen.

Lowering his arms, the demon god drags his palms down the sides of her face, then holds fast. They stare, his torso contracting hard against her own, his cock primed against her soaked pussy.

Another minute, and she’d have been mounting Malice, riding him into the bookshelves, fucking that cock without an end in sight. All the while, still kissing him.

The longing hurts so much, it gnaws at her flesh. Wonder’s mouth feels raw to the touch, as though they’d been fight-kissing. After several draughts of air, she slumps against Malice, loathed to be separated from him.

He groans, his forehead burrowing against hers. “You’re going to fucking kill me.”

Technically, she’s already done that. Wonder shivers at the thought.

She tries mustering a response, then sighs as he tilts his mouth over her own, indicating he’s not done with her. Malice skates his lips along her own, on the brink of something harsh yet poignant. And it’s so dear, and he’s so dear, and this is so dear.