Page 12 of Blackmailed By the Incubus

Warrick lunges before I can stop him. Hands that are mine but wield his strength close in Bloom’s filthy robes.

“Aiden!” Sera grabs my arm and tries to haul me back. When that doesn’t work, she squeezes around me and puts herself between me and the woman struggling to detangle herself from the monster’s grip. “Stop. Please.”

The tears in her eyes kick me in the gut, but Warrick gives no shit. He’s only seeing red as he shoves our mother back and fists his hands in Sera’s hair. She’s dragged into the curve of my body and imprisoned as his mouth — my mouth — slams down over hers.

It’s an assault of tongue and teeth that elicits a whimper from her. It’s hungry and violent, and it doesn’t elude me that I’m still me and he’s just wearing me like a suit. That it’s my tongue in Sera’s mouth. My hands cupping her naked ass and hoisting her up. I tell myself he’s too strong to fight, but when her legs lockaround my hips, I’m not sure who’s doing what. Only that she tastes like everything I imagined.

She’s panting and flushed when he finally frees her. Her swollen lips glisten, sweet and parted, and begging for more. But her eyes are dark and ravenous as they search mine.

“Aiden,” she whispers with a mixture of confusion and surprise.

But it’s Warrick who answers her through me.

“You are my queen,” he growls. “The mother of my children. I will tear her throat open with my fangs and let her bleed out at your feet. I will gift you her corpse.”

Behind her, Bloom makes a choking sound, but Warrick has eyes only for Sera.

“No, please,” she begs, as I already knew she would.

Bloom is her mother. The woman who raised her, and that seems to mean something to her. To me, Bloom is a waste of natural resources. She’s a stain that needs to be wiped clean.

Warrick agrees.

“If she touches you again, if she threatens our children, I will gut her and make you a crown with her bones.”

CHAPTER FIVE SERAPHINE

THE SCENT OF LAVENDERand crushed rosemary plumes through the air with every twist of my wrist. I’m trying to keep busy crushing roots and filling jars, but my lips won’t stop tingling. I still feel the heat and pressure of Aiden’s mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, his toned frame between my thighs.

Aiden kissed me.

The dried roots are forgotten in the mortar as my fingers drift over my bottom lip.

My head swims deliciously, sending the butterflies in my belly wild with an excitement I know I shouldn’t feel, but...

Aiden kissed me.

And I kissed him back.

The aching muscle in my chest collides against my ribs, a giddy dance that is both thrilling and frantic with panic.

I shouldn’t have let it happen. Obviously. I know it was wrong. There was a lot happening between waking up to the feel of him flush against me and Mama catching us. I’m not stupid enough not to understand why I shouldn’t be in bed with Aiden. That morning, straddling him in nothing but my panties was inappropriate. Feeling the hot, thick length of him pulsing along my center was definitely wrong.

But his eyes have a way of making me forget. The way they watch me with such ... everything, like I am solely responsible for his every breath.

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