Page 52 of Tempt

Wonder’s head snaps up. She gapes at him, feeling pink imprint on her cheeks, the same tint painted on his lips.

Before she can stammer a reply, he intones, “I bet we’d fit. I bet you’d be tight as a tube around me. I bet you’re wetter right now than I was outside.”

“How dare you!” she grits.

“I’m not the one who was peeping. You sound like a virgin, but you’re not one.”

“I’m two hundred and six.”

“And I’m one hundred and fifty-six.” He shakes his head in mock horror. “You wanton cougar.”

“My dalliances are none of your concern.”

“Meaning, it’s somebody I know.” Like a master of secrets, he checks her expression, examining it until his visage brightens. “Anger.”

Wonder’s nostrils flare, but not as wide as his do. He takes her silence as confirmation, his features hardening as though he’s about to go on a killing spree.

She feels compelled to voice a caveat. “He hadn’t met Merry yet.”

It was only one night, ages before they’d been assigned to the mortal realm. They’d been lonely and heartbroken over other people. Back then, Anger had carried a secret torch for Love, and Wonder had been dealing with her own unrequited feelings for a mortal boy. And so, she and her classmate had taken refuge in each other.

“Did you enjoy it?” Malice interrogates.

That’s a horrible thing to ask. “Let me pass.”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“Let. Me. Pass.”

“You enjoyed it a lot.”

“Yes!” she spits. “I slept with Anger eons ago, another lifetime ago, and I enjoyed it. And then I woke up the next morning and wished it had never happened. Because he wasn’t…”

He wasn’t you.

But for that night, she’d pretended it was. It’s the reason she’d climaxed at all.

Malice picks up on her thoughts like a scent. “Because he wasn’t that mortal mate you obsessed over.” He steps closer, whispering, “And me? Am I another filler?”

She cannot answer that. And he doesn’t let her.

“I’m guilty, too,” he says. “I’ve seen humans go at it before in parks, and in clubs, and in cars, and in the Carnival of Stars. Before that, I watched archers hump, some of them having invited me to stare. It fills the void until it doesn’t, because it tells you only so much about what you like.”

His tenor deepens. “What do you like, Wildflower? I think you pine for a sweet romp. I’m guessing you got the opposite with Anger. It’s a perfect visual, how that stallion must have plowed you into the mattress, his cock shaped like a pommel and welded like iron. Did you writhe and beg for more? Or did the orgasm pop out like a sob?”

“I pity that you have to try this hard to be in control,” she says.

Malice’s jaw clicks. “I think we’d do much better together.” One of his saber nails claws down the wall behind her. “I think you wanted to bounce on my prick in that tree—that would have been fun, watching you shout to the stars, that mouth wide open and emptying itself of noise. I think you’ve wanted to mount me from the beginning, the same way I’ve wanted you, even while we loathed the idea. I think if I kissed you, you’d kiss me back, letting my teeth mark you, letting my tongue fuck yours. I think if I pinned you to the bookcases, you’d ride the shelves until books shook from the slots—”

Wonder plows into him, barreling them around until Malice’s back rams into the wall. A shocked grunt rips from his throat as he registers their switched positions, that he’s the one imprisoned now. She’d done this in the dorm stairwell, and the maneuver shuts him up like it had before. In fact, his pupils blow up because this is closer than they were a second ago. This is her, wrenched against his bareness from head to toe.

Suddenly, his chest beats against hers, rapid and shallow. He looks young. And nervous.

She doesn’t care. She’s had enough.

It’s about time he gets as harsh as he gives. This attitude adjustment is overdue, to see whether he likes being baited, to see whether he can take it. If he wants a match, he’ll get a match.

Wonder curls into him, pliable curves molding into chiseled angles, testing what the contact does to his cocksure demeanor, which isn’t cocksure any longer. His mouth slackens, his inhalations reduced to spurts.

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