Page 11 of Paramour of Sin
“At least a hundred more times,” he replied, peeking up at me through thick black strands. His ice blue irises glittered with expectation. “You know I enjoy kneeling for you, my lord.”
My lips curled at the promise underlining those words. “Yes, I do. But I actually summoned you for a discussion first.” And perhaps for a little play-time afterward. He was one of my preferred paramours these days.
Actually, he was my only one.
All the others had been dismissed over the last two decades, mostly because none of them measured up to the prize I truly desired.
Guinevere.
I craved her with a ferocity that was borderline dangerous. Which was precisely why I couldn’t have her. Because the darkness in me had a way of manipulating even the purest of hearts. That darkness had forced me to kill my last consort, and I refused to allow Guinevere to suffer a similar fate.
So I gave her what I could.
And took what I needed from others.
Except Zane was the only one left because no one else could keep up with my demands. Even other succubi and incubi.
A travesty, really.
I’d meant to audition a few potential lovers during my seven year visit in Hell, but I’d found myself dissatisfied with all the candidates.
Because none of them were Guinevere.
“You’re troubled, my lord,” Zane said, shifting gracefully to stand up. His bare feet whispered across the carpet as he approached me, his attire one he knew I’d prefer.
Jeans and nothing else.
Just as I stood before him in merely a pair of dress pants.
A discussion was what I had in mind, but I also had a few years of pent up frustration to unleash thanks to my recent stay in the underworld.
Seven years without sex was a long time for a Demonic Lord.
It was why I hadn’t offered Guinevere any energy tonight. Had I kissed her, it wouldn’t have stopped there. As it was, it’d been a struggle not to touch her or offer any form of comfort.
Zane’s knuckles brushed my jaw, his familiarity with my body evident in the lack of fear radiating from him. He stepped closer to press his lips to mine, his similar height and stature making the connection that much easier.
My body came alive under his touch, my need mounting to the surface in a demand to take… take…take.
I wrapped my palm around the back of his neck and deepened our kiss, taking control with a sweep of my tongue that left the incubus groaning against me.
There was no question about who dominated who in this scenario.
I was his king.
He was my prince.
And he would bow, crawl, and beg, if that was my command.
Hmm, but right now, I just wanted to feel. To remember that I was alive. To exist in this mortal plane and indulge in the pleasantries of the flesh. Rather than feel the embers of Hell beat at my back or hear the screams echoing off the obsidian walls of Ashmedai’s prison.
Which was where Guinevere would end up if he found out about these bodies.
He’d commit her to a trial, then demand her reform.
Zane shuddered as my teeth skimmed his lower lip, my agitation over the situation slipping through my otherwise calm veneer. I refused to subject Guinevere to such a fate. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t have her, she was still mine to protect.
“I need your help with Guinevere,” I said, my voice low.
