Page 21 of The Devil of London

“I need to get back to her,” I said as I rose from the couch. “I want the men to stay on Cameron. If they sent him in after her, then more aren’t far behind.”

“Isn’t Vanessa showing up here in the next week?” Merikh asked with a look of loathing. Neither of us liked the vindictive mafia princess who I’d been courting. Of course, she was a necessary means to an end.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “Yeah, I’m sure she’ll find an excuse to be here prior to her father appearing. That’s going to be a problem.”

“Make her jealous,” Merikh muttered. “Use it to your advantage. Use Vanessa to make Aderyn jealous, which will force her to remain near enough to push the gold-digging princess away from you. We can’t have her fucking shit up, either. Vanessa wants your cock so goddamn bad she’d crawl through glass if you asked her to do so. So, use that shit to get Aderyn closer.”

“It might end up pushing her farther away, which would be counterproductive.” Turning over Merikh’s idea in my head, I considered all the ways it could go wrong. But there was nothing sexier than a jealous Aderyn, either. Fuck, she was absolutely stunning in a jealous rage.

“Considering she was shopping for companionship, not sure there’s any farther away you could push her, asshole. She’s been gone from the family for fifty fucking years. We miss her too, Khaos. All of us,” Rue admitted.

A soft, breathy whisper of sound escaped from the bedroom. It had my cock jerking with awareness of whom was in my bed as I moved to the doorway. I gazed in at her lithe, womanly frame covered in only the thin sheet. Aderyn wasn’t just someone I wanted to fuck, she was the woman I’d mated with. The other half of my soul, which meant I’d burn down the entire world for her.

“We’re done for tonight,” I whispered, shedding the robe. Strolling closer to where she slumbered, I peered down at her delicate, womanly features. “Après tout ce temps, Aderyn, c’est toujours toi. Ce sera toujours toi, mon amour.”

Chapter Nine

Aderyn

Theweightholdingmedown caused a cold sweat to trickle down my spine. Prying one eye open, I searched the strange room I’d woken up in. Wallpaper covered the walls in a calming shade of slate gray. Crown molding lined the ceiling around the walls, which were covered in portraits of, well, me. In each one, I was in a risqué pose with lace petticoats. Unlike the ones at the club, these didn’t shield my face. The artist had captured another girl, apparently. Because in each image, I looked smitten by the person capturing it.

One in particular was from New Orleans, where I’d brazenly worn a corset top. I’d finished the look off with underskirts of varying shades of the rainbow. I had done my hair in an intricate updo, but instead of pins to hold them in place, we’d used thin slices of material to hold the dark locks up. Damaris had applied kohl to my eyes, and then rogue to my full, plump lips. I’d felt beautiful in the crazy, very risqué outfit. For that time, it was scandalizing to wear underclothes in sight of anyone else.

My boldness didn’t impress Khaos. He’d told me to sit down in a chair and then summoned an artist to paint my image. He’d damn near threw the canvas at me, and told me how pathetically desperate I’d looked once the artist had finished painting my image. I’d taken the portrait and fled the main hall, choosing to hide within my chamber for days sulking. But he’d kept it. Why? To remind himself how pathetic I’d been back then?

Dismissing the memory, I examined the opulent chandeliers, which glittered rainbow prisms all over the room. Thousands of tiny sparkling crystals dangled from silver bars lining the ceiling. It almost made them look like droplets of rain from beneath them. While masculine, it held a feminine undertone with the white chesterfield lounger and settee against the farthest wall.

Strong arms tightened around me, which caused my body to heat as a smile played on my lips. It had been a very long time since I’d slept in Khaos’s bed. His even breathing against my neck as he nuzzled it told me he was still slumbering. Closing my eyes, I remembered how it felt to be invited into his bed the few times he’d taken me there without needing to force me. Khaos had always held me through the night on those occasions, as if he treasured me above all else.

I’d once snuck into his room naked, fully intending to beg him to fuck me. Sitting on his giant four-poster bed, I had waited for him in nothing more than the skin I’d been born with. The moment his footsteps approached, I had begun losing my confidence and had almost worked myself into a full-blown panic attack. It was the feminine laughter, which sent me flying from the bed toward the small, hidden alcove which held a cage he’d often made me sleep within.

For hours, I’d been forced to watch as he fucked Josephina senseless. After he had finished, they’d lain together laughing and talking about things around Storyville, which was the red-light district of New Orleans. As Nasir spent hours ravishing every inch of her perfect, ivory-colored flesh, she’d talked shit about me being a selfish child who craved his attention. The treacherous bitch had discussed how pathetically desperate I was to pine over a man who loathed me as much as she did. Khaos hadn’t corrected her, which hurt me more than anything he’d physically done to me. I’d cried, which was pathetic, admittedly. But I’d considered her a friend even though I’d known better than to trust anyone.

“You’re adorable when you pretend to sleep,” he murmured in a sleepy rasp.

“As are you, Nasir.”

“You think I’m adorable?”

“As adorable as a hellhound can be, I guess,” I returned in a sharp, irritable manner. Memories had a way of making me angry, but it was my dreams that he should’ve been worried about the most. Upon waking from one, I’d often contemplated executing him for what he’d done to me within them. It mattered little if it was real or not.

Without warning, Khaos rolled me onto my back, pressing his body against mine to hold me in place. Staring down at me, he growled from deep in his chest, rubbing his erection against my belly. A soft whimper slid free before I could prevent it from escaping. Nasir rubbed his thickening cock against me, showing me how deeply within my body it would be if he fucked me.

“You’re rather vulnerable right now, pretty slut.”

“I am not your slut, brat, or anything anymore. How about you stick with my name?”

“How about we fight to determine who is in charge? Winner gets to call the loser anything he wants to call her.”

“It’s rather presumptuous of you to assume you’d win, Nasir. I’m not the only one who is vulnerable right now,” I purred, knowing that if I lifted my knee, he’d be screaming like a bitch.

His hands gripped my wrists, and he rolled me on top of him before I’d actually agreed. It caused his dick to slide through the swollen, wet folds of my sex. A shudder of need rushed through me as I fought to free my hands from his viselike grip.

“Come on, fight me, slut,” he murmured without the normal sting he added to the degrading term. Lowering my lips, I jutted my tongue out, licking along the seam of his mouth. He rumbled from the sly tactic but opened his mouth, allowing me entrance. I was uncertain what I’d been thinking, but the kiss turned ravenous as I rocked against his thick, hard length. The deeper the kiss went, the more feverish my body became against his. Fluttering began in my abdomen as he moaned against my lips.

Khaos’s earthy scent of bergamot, whiskey, and smoke drugged my senses. His hands slid down my body to grip my hips, using them to force my body harder against his magnificent cock. Our tongues dueled, licking, tasting, devouring one another until I no longer knew whose air fed my lungs oxygen. He kissed me like I was his world, which confused and left me spinning above him. Breaking the kiss, I sucked air into my lungs greedily while battling to regain brain function. Before I could think better of it, I moved closer for more.

He pushed me from his mouth with one hand gripping my throat while the other continued directing my hips. Rocking against his dick, I keened as his blistering mouth clamped down on one strawberry-colored tip. Pulling back, he blew warm air over my nipple teasingly. The scraping of his teeth over the tender flesh sent a pulse throbbing in my clitoris. A ball of liquid heat formed in my abdomen as he ensured my clit had friction with each pass over his silken cock. Kissing his way through the valley between them, he lavished the other with the same attention. Sucking it deep in his mouth, he chuckled wickedly as I cried out, so close to reaching for the peak of pleasure. My slippery center forced me up farther, which had his thick, rounded tip pushing against my opening.

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