Page 72 of Dynasty of the Wicked

He hesitated. “Zhi Ruo …” It was more of a groan.

She squeezed her thighs over him, grinning as her voice lowered. “Make love to me, Feng Mian. I know you want to. I don’t want you to fuck me. I want you to love me. I know you can do it, and I know youwantto.”

His resolve was weakening. She could tell.

“Because you want to know the truth?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You made love to me last night. You know you did, but you won’t admit it. You love me, Zheng Feng Mian, and you want to be with me, but you’re too scared. But here’s the thing—if you can’t even admit to those feelings, then you should just let me go. I want someone who can love me without shame.Without feeling like he’s doing me a favor when he’s with me. If you can’t be him, then let me go.”

Silence stretched between them. The winds howled against their tent, sending a burst of chilly air wafting through the gaps where the tent met the ground. Feng Mian frowned, his eyebrows pulling together as emotions warred over his face.

“Is it easier to betray me than your best friend?” she asked quietly.

He flinched. “I didn’t mean to betray you.”

“But you did. You choosing him over me means that you would rather I die, than him.” A fire stoked in her chest, growing hotter, fiercer. “He and I cannot live in the same world, Feng Mian. You know that. Because here is what’s going to happen.”

His hand remained frozen on her thigh beneath her skirt.

“You will either choose me, and we will make love, and have happy memories. We will live together, somewhere, far away from all of these messy, messy politics. We will love each other and we will be at peace with one another. Maybe you’ll inherit your father’s lands, and we’ll show everyone just how capable the two of us are. They all hate us, anyway. Or, Feng Mian, you choose him. In that case”—her tone shifted to something harsh—“I will leave here, tonight, and I will never come back. You will never find me. And you will fight for Chanming. You will continue fighting, battle after battle, until one day, during this course of trying to win the throne from my brutal father, you fall in battle. You’ll die alone, wishing you had one more moment with me. Because while you’re dying, do you really think you will be thinking about what could have been with Chanming? Will you be thinking, ‘I wish I could have seen Chanming on the throne’? No, you will miss me. And the very thought of me will haunt you forever.”

His nails scraped along her sensitive skin. “You’re really making me choose right now?”

“I am.”

“Why is there no world where I can have both? Where I can witness your wretched father fail, watch Chanming rise to power, and have you?”

“You know better than me that Chanming will never let me live.”

He breathed against her neck, inhaling her scent. “Fuck. I want you.”

She could tell what little resolve he had left was crumbling, because his hand trailed up the underside of her thigh, gripping the flesh firmly.

A vulnerability passed over his face, shadows collecting in his pale, pale eyes. “You are a cruel woman.”

“Better to be cruel than a coward.”

For a moment, they remained still, on the precipice, as if neither were sure if they should proceed. But then he leaned forward and crushed his lips against hers. She moved against him, her legs clenching around his waist, her mouth moving in sync with his. She felt lightheaded, the numbness and pain of her arms disappearing slowly as desire overwhelmed her senses.

Feng Mian handled her roughly, tugging at her dress, his hands roaming over her body. She grasped his face in her hands, kissing him again, her tongue flicking out to meet his.

He cursed again, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I don’t think I can ever forget this. You’re too perfect.”

Perfect wasn’t a word she would ever use to describe herself. Imperfect, sure. But neverperfect. But she was starting to realize that she didn’t need to be faultless around him.

“So beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, one hand teasing her breast and the other going lower.

She squirmed and gasped at his touch, her toes curling as his fingers found her sensitive flesh.

“I love the way you feel. I love the way you smell. I love the way yousound.”

She gasped against him. “Feng Mian.”

His lips met hers again, a fervent need passing between them both, as if this moment would pass too quickly. She looped her aching arms around his neck and arched against him.

She moaned when he finally slid inside of her. Her body clenched around him. He groaned softly, his hands weaving into her hair as he pulled her head back. He kissed her neck, moving slowly, seeming to relish in the way she writhed beneath him.

“I love you, you wicked, wicked woman,” he hissed out, like she had forced him to admit it. She would hear the slight tremble of fear, of vulnerability, in his voice. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything else.”

He crushed his mouth to hers before she could respond. He moved even slower, savoring her, and his mouth dragged over to her ear. “I’m deeply, insanely in love with you. You are my light. And I want to be with you. I want to breathe for you. I want to love you. I want all of you. But … But I’m too fucking scared to love. Love has never come easy for me.”

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