Page 25 of The Nightmare Bride
“Because I do,” he said. “Oftentimes I fall in love in the evening, then out of it again by sunrise.” He flipped a page and let out a hum of approval. Judging by his place in the book, I guessed he’d landed on the spiciest passage, the one I’d read so many times I’d lost count.
“I...see,” he said as he scanned the lines. “Perhaps the love aspect isn’t what interests you most?”
The tips of my ears burned. “There’s more to romances than just the ‘love aspect.’”
“Clearly.” Kyven flicked the page, where I’d pressed in a dog-ear for easy reference. “It’s enough to make me suspect you’re no blushing maiden.”
I should have denied that, because Amryssa was as virginal as a snowdrop in its first bloom. But I needed to do something—anything—to break this awful tension. To shock the smile off his face so we could get on with it. “I’m afraid not.”
His expression melted into one of...appreciation? “Oh, thank Hyperion.”
Hyperion.Hightower’s bright, sunny patron god—a deity who probably dispensed blessings like candy, given that he hadn’t spent the last decade sleeping. His name sounded so incongruous here, inside Zephyrine’s crumbling walls. Like it had taken a wrong turn and lost its way.
But even the unfamiliar invocation couldn’t dull my surprise. Here in Oceansgate, bridal purity had fallen from favor along with things like lawfulness and taxes, but last I’d checked, the notion had been alive and well in Hightower. Especially among the monarchy.
“That’s...fine with you?” I ventured.
“Yes, it’sfine,” he said. “Of course it’s fine. This next part won’t be at all enjoyable for me unless it’s enjoyable for you.”
“The next part. Which is?”
But Kyven had already tossed the book aside. He crawled across the mattress and swung a leg over me, bracketing my hips with his knees, pinning me to the bed.
A cold thrill shivered through me. This was it, then. It had to be. I slid a hand beneath my pillow, curling my fingers around the hilt of my dagger.
“Thefunpart,” he crooned. “The part that makes all this absurdity worthwhile.”
My breathing accelerated. I would let him get close, I decided. As close as he liked. Then, the moment the pain began, he’d find a knife in his back for his trouble. “You mean the part where you make me scream?”
“If I do things properly, yes.” He grinned. “May I?”
Sweat broke out on my palms. Was he reallyasking permissionto hurt me? Whatever. I was done playing. “Go ahead.” My voice rang with challenge. “Do your worst.”
His eyes went hot and hooded. “How about my best?” He reached up and flicked his shirt buttons open, one by one.
An involuntary breath sliced from my lungs. I should have looked away. I really, really should have. Instead, I lay transfixed, like a snake beguiled by the charmer, or maybe a hapless rabbit, snared by the gaze of the lynx.
Kyven peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Fucking hell, but he was all lines and angles, sketched with an unforgivingsharpness that filtered straight into my bloodstream. And in that moment, I’d never envied Amryssa her imperviousness to temptation more, because this man had the kind of beauty that could make me forget myself. He was all chiseled savagery, flesh stripped to its barest essentials, malice gloved in the thinnest of satin.
Revulsion and excitement clashed in my belly. My dagger awoke, humming a question, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond.
Kyven leaned down. When I didn’t recoil, he angled his head to nuzzle at my neck, and the moment his mouth found my throat, my spine bowed. Everything in me rioted.
Gods among us, that didn’t hurt. At all. It felt...fuckingdivine.
I closed my eyes and tried to think past the rush. Because this was all part of my plan, wasn’t it? Yes, yes, the plan. Now I only had to decide where to sink my blade. Maybe into his kidney, or the back of his neck, or...
Or...
Ohshit,that made my toes curl.
Kyven’s tongue painted languid strokes against my skin. One of his hands slid past my ear while he rucked up my nightgown with the other, his fingers trailing a caress along my thigh. The room shrank to an airless puddle, just heat and velvet and candlelight.
I whimpered. Seven hells, I should just stab this asshole and be done with it, but my willpower had receded. Probably because I’d never killed anyone before, and now the possibility immobilized me. Or maybe that was the russet-haired prince pinning me down.
The wet heat at my neck became insistent. Kyven sucked and teased and panted soft sounds against my ear. My stomach clenched, a million fluttering ribbons unspooling within.
Damn it. Maybe therewassomething worse than marrying a gorgeous psychopath who thought he was clever—marrying a gorgeous psychopath with whom I had blistering physical chemistry. And who, for some inexplicable reason, had decided to bepassionatewith me.
