Page 54

Malice

Sex has always been a good time, a chance to blow off steam, release tension, have some fun with a few choice instruments.

He’s ridden and been ridden. He’s railed multiple deities in a single night, sometimes at the same time, sometimes while other outcasts watched.

He’s used numerous tools in his cache, from sharp apparatuses to soft gags and masks, and all the options in between.

He’s used them to make gods and goddesses scream, submit, and shatter.

When you’ve got thousands of years in your portfolio, and you’ve spent the majority of it in exile with a bunch of horny troublemakers, it’s plenty of time to do everything under the sun.

But this…

This eventide puts every orgiastic ritual to shame, wipes each profligate episode from existence. They’ve become obsolete, as if Malice has no goddamn experience at all, or at least any experience that counts. Tonight is incomparable, something raw and real, because it involves her.

This goddess, who’s responsible for blowing his mind to smithereens, for stripping him down to the bone, leaving him with no place to hide. And he doesn’t regret a fucking thing.

With his cock still clamped in the wet grip of her pussy, they slump against the bookcase.

Malice’s head drops onto her shoulder, her cheek lands on his temple, and his palms cup her generous ass.

Their chests heave, skin damp and sticky, her tits inflating against his torso, and those immaculate thighs clinging to his hips.

Not the experimental position Malice is used to, yet he likes it with her.

It feels natural, easy, and sexy as hell.

Matter of fact, he could stay like this for the weekend, making camp inside Wonder, her gorgeous cunt all warm, slippery, and tight. They could take fuck breaks, read a book aloud, argue and piss each other off, then compensate by making each other come from a dozen flexible angles.

Malice opens his mouth to present that suggestion on a gold platter. But then Wonder does something unprecedented. She sweeps her fingers through his mussed hair, the gentle touch foreign.

His muscles tense. It’s new, that’s all. He never lingers with his playmates once they’re finished with each other, much less do the aftermaths include anything soft.

Yet his limbs unwind after a second. A purr rumbles off his tongue, and he finds himself leaning in for more. Realistically, she’ll tire of his clinginess in a few minutes. It’s what he would normally do.

But Christ. Now that he’s made Wonder come three times in a row, there’s no way in hell Malice will ever get enough. This addiction is permanent. And fine, he’ll take whatever scrapes he can get before this goddess remembers who she just fucked.

Celestials pour from the lanterns, glazing the shelves like a special effect, reminiscent of a glittering pool. It turns the atmosphere into someplace fluid, as though Wonder and Malice are floating in a river of stars. Not a bad place to drown.

The goddess’s fingers get sneaky. He grunts in protest when she releases his hair, but then a tamer noise slips from his mouth.

Malice groans like a contented jaguar when her hands glide down his spine and land on his ass.

She pawns at his cheeks with greedy enthusiasm, sketching the divots caving at the sides before grabbing the whole fucking thing.

Well, it’s accurate. She does own his ass now.

Malice’s shoulders ripple with humor. Still winded and fighting to catch his breath, he flirts against her collarbone, “Did I say… you could… fondle my ass?”

Wonder’s foot sole vacates the bookshelf and runs down his calf. Her airways sound just as depleted as his. “I’m in… the mood… to be a goddess.”

“Keep it up and I’ll be in the mood to fuck one.”

“You’ve just done that.”

“Hmm, that’s true. Was it nice?”

A sated grin fills her voice. “It was eternally nice.”

Fuck. How can such a proper reply sound downright seductive?

Like a bloody novice, Malice had been avoiding her gaze.

But now he flips his head up, jerking his chin to knock errant locks off his forehead.

He’d expected the regret to sink in, had anticipated her inevitable retreat.

Not that Malice would blame this female.

She’s better than him in a thousand ways, including the ethical ones.

But what greets him instead is the face of a blissful goddess.

Skin flushed a newly fucked pink. Eyes twinkling with so much green. Lips swollen and tipping into a smile that ties a fucking knot in his chest.

She’s not leaving, doesn’t look remotely panicked, disgusted, ashamed by her actions, or impatient to get the hell away from him.

In fact, her sultry pupils devour Malice, her soaked cunt making itself at home on his dick.

Like a bunny in heat, she wriggles closer, her pussy clenching him to the base.

The sassy motion wrenches a jagged growl from Malice, inflating his balls with that extravagant sensation of heat.

Still horny, is she? That, he knows how to fix.

He pushes in, panting across Wonder’s mouth. “I like being nice to you.” He plants a heavy peck on her lips. “Tell me more. Be specific about your siren needs. I want to know everything you like.”

Wonder emits a feline sigh. “I’ve had fewer relations with partners than you.”

“Relations?” he teases. “Such respectable terminology.”

She slaps his shoulder. “You know what I meant.”

“I do.” Unable to keep his mouth off her skin, Malice glides his teeth across her jaw, kicking her head back.

“Not enough gods have seen to your pleasure. Oh, but I’m planning to change that.

I’ll take good care of you. I’ll use my cock—” he punctuates the word with a subtle jut of his hips, the motion grinding his dick between her pussy and making her moan, “to pull more noise, more anarchy, and more demands out of your plush mouth.”

She gasps as his fingers locate a ticklish spot beneath her triceps. With every touch, he gets naughtier, nipping her shoulder while prodding the curves of her body, hunting for the areas that make her whimper.

“You’re playful after mating,” she muses, her head banking sideways for his lips.

“I’m always playful,” Malice reminds her, biting Wonder’s pulse point, then licking the spot. “We haven’t begun to scratch that itch. I plan on raising hell with you. Won’t that be fun?”

Tremors spray across her flesh. “I’d like that. Very much.”

Hell yes. The Dark Gods could drop a scepter in Malice’s hand, dub him Lord of the Underworld, and it still wouldn’t measure up to Wonder’s reply.

They’ve fucked hard. And she still wants him.

Wonder traces his tattoo. “When did you get this marking?”

“Have a thing for my tat?” He bows his head, kisses one pert nipple, then glances up with a smirk. “I fancy what you fancy.”

Wonder squints in amusement. “Since when?”

“Isn’t that obvious? Books. Lawlessness. Fuckery.” Malice shifts, readjusting her weight in his arms, bringing her closer to his damp chest. “Can we talk about the fact that you’ve stolen my thunder in this place? How edgy of you.”

Her chortles echo down the halls. “I have not stolen anything, you scoundrel.”

But he gets serious, his stare devoid of mischief. “Yeah, you have.”

His letters. His sanity. His soul.

She’s taken everything. All of it has gone up in smoke thicker than a mushroom cloud.

Wonder’s expression sobers. Shit. Malice rarely gives a fuck about discretion or pacing, but maybe the implication was too much, too soon. Or maybe this thing between them is more one-sided than he thought.

Before she can muster a reply that he’s not going to enjoy, Malice casts his tattoo a sideways glance. “Some archers in The Dark Fates are talented artists. I got this one after my first nightmare.”

“Oh.” Wonder tilts her head while draping her fingers over his back. “Did it hurt?”

“Always worried about everyone more than yourself. I’m betting it didn’t hurt as much as your scars.” His retinas singe. “Say the word, and I’ll claw out The Courts’ innards.”

Wonder brushes the stubborn layers of hair from his forehead. “You would do that without me having to say a thing. Not that I approve.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Wildflower. Your approval means more than you know.” He traces her jawline with his nose. “It didn’t hurt as much as the nightmare.” He sets a pinky against Wonder’s lips, preventing her from waxing sympathetic. “Shush. It takes more than a verbal reference to trigger me.”

“No, it does not. It takes a syllable.”

“Okay, sure. But I’d rather fuck you senseless again than have a meltdown. Though, hitting every erogenous zone you possess requires me to be at my full capacity.”

Wonder’s gaze sails across his face. “We’ve been at each other’s throats since the mortal realm. I fear this is a rather impulsive change of heart.”

“Are we?” he counters. “Angst and hate are aphrodisiacs. We’ve been at this foreplay from the beginning. You fixated on me like I actually meant something to you. I never raged so much in my life. Or felt so randy.”

“You scarcely knew me.”

“And that matters because…?” But when she gives him an evident look, his mouth crooks.

“The mutual animosity was as tempting as your intelligence. Besides, I could echo the same about you not knowing me . By the way? Echoing is fun, listening to your voice reverberate down a hall.” He whistles, the sound charging across the passages. “Hear that? You should try it.”

She stifles a grin. “To say the least, my lungs have been depleted.”

“Think again. You don’t know the meaning of depleted until I’m done breaking in your sexy ass. So many games to play, and so much square footage in which to do it.” He nips her bottom lip, admiring how it pebbles her flesh. “But for that, we’ll need stamina.”

His ego gets a boost when she frowns in disappointment, then gives a judicious nod. “Sleep.”