Wicked Is My Curse (Wicked Fae Realms #5)

Prologue

LYRAE ANTARES

Ryland Storme kissed the same way he did everything.

Like he was waging his own, personal war on the world itself.

My lips, my body, my very soul became a battlefield—where his weapons were nipping teeth and clever fingers that knew exactly how deep to plunge, how hard to rub, how deep to bite.

And I was the enemy who couldn’t wait to be conquered.

I wanted him to crush me to stardust between his hands, then kiss me better when this frenzy ended. Because I knew when this was over, after Ryland pieced me back together, I’d still be boneless and breathless and wanting for more.

“Gods, Lyrae.” His tongue drove into my mouth, possessive and claiming, and I let him have me.

I always let him have me. Giving myself to Ryland was one of life’s few pleasures, and if I could make a nightly habit of this, I would…

but pleasures like these in the slums of Southwell were few and far between.

“How can you always taste so fucking delicious?” Green eyes flashed like emeralds, followed by that quick, wicked smile as he abandoned my mouth to work his way down my body, teeth nibbling my peaked breasts, tongue dipping into the well of my stomach before he pressed his face between my legs and breathed deep.

Gods. That tongue.

I could write an entire ode to his tongue and the wicked ways it shredded my self-control.

“Like fresh tangerines dipped in honey,” he groaned, sliding his arms beneath my legs, lifting me to his mouth, heated breath skating over my open pussy long enough my toes curled.

“This is no time for talking, Ry. Clock’s ticking, remember?” I reminded him, though the reason for urgency was quickly becoming as unimportant as our clothes, lying on the floor around us. “Hurry. Please.”

“So fucking impatient, my little fox. So fucking needy.”

I frowned at the top of his dark head, bent between my pale thighs. “I’m needy? You’re the one who dragged me into a fucking closet, during an actual heist, for a quick fuck.”

“Well, I’m not the one who started this by saying, ‘Oh, Ry, your cock would feel so amazing inside me right now.’”

“Fuck you, Ryland,” I muttered, but my hands were already tangled in waves of silky brown hair, already pulling him closer, my pussy a bundle of slick, swollen flesh quivering in anticipation for that first brush of his eager mouth.

“Yes, you will,” he agreed, and the moment he licked through my folds, I forgot all about this dusty closet, the safe full of money upstairs, the utter foolishness of the chance we were taking.

No, all I knew in this world was Ryland Storme, branding a trail up through my center, his dark groan of needy pleasure as he feasted, the way that masterful tongue whipped across my clit until I bit my lip to stay quiet.

I panted for air, a churning tempest building inside my thrashing body, hips bucking when I came, Ryland wringing the orgasm out of me with practiced ease, making the pleasure last long enough to almost hurt, dimly tasting blood where my teeth bit through my lower lip as I shattered.

This.

This was better than anything else in the world.

Flying apart in his capable hands.

Knowing he’d be there to catch me when I fell. And as I crashed back to earth, when his fingers traced my face like he was trying to commit me to memory, I knew one truth.

I never wanted this to end.

In fact, I couldn’t fathom us ever being apart for a single moment.

No. I wrapped my fingers deeper into his silky hair. Ryland Storme was as essential to my survival as breathing and I would hold onto him for the rest of my life.

He rocked back, laughing green eyes meeting my pale blue ones across the landscape of my trembling stomach, my heaving breasts. Something simmered there, a flicker of what I yearned to call love…

But people like us didn’t love.

Love made you vulnerable, and vulnerable people didn’t survive long in Blackcastle, especially not in Southwell, the deepest pit of the slums, where even the king’s most brutal soldiers seldom ventured.

“I know I don’t tell you this often enough…or ever,” his full lips parted, like he was fighting for air as he prowled up my body, unfastening his trousers. “But you are the most exquisite creature I have ever seen, Ly. Absolutely. Fucking. Perfect.”

I could have said a thousand things just then.

Could have laid my soul as bare to him as my body.

But…people like us didn’t do that, either.

“We are running out of time, so I’d advise you to stop the sweet talk before we get caught,” I warned, secretly preening over every word, hoarding them for later.

“Of course, now that I’ve gotten mine, I hardly care about your…

” I swallowed when I saw the size of his engorged cock, imagining taking all that luscious length inside me. “Situation.”

“Such a romantic. That’s what I love about you, Lyrae. You always know… the right thing. To. Say.”

He cupped my cheek, dragging the crown of that enormous cock through my drenched folds. Once. Twice. God, three times. I arched into his touch, the gentle teasing that was addictive as the sex. Every time we did this, the intimacy felt a little bit better.

A little bit more real.

And a lot more dangerous.

As if he could slip through my fingers like water, and I’d be left holding nothing but memories.

I couldn’t understand why these moments had become the center of my entire world, but when Ryland thrust, when he filled me full, when he fucked me like he couldn’t get enough, when he groaned out my name like a godsdamned prayer and spilled every drop of himself inside me, they became everything.

This was all that mattered.

The only part of my pitiful life worth living.

The only time I felt alive, when my heart raced from something other than fear, when my stomach ached from something other than hunger.

Wham. Wham. Wham.

A fist pounded against the door—hard and demanding—and out of habit, we both were moving, yanking on pants, shirts, boots, weapons, with nimble, agile fingers.

Ryland went through the door first, broad shoulders blocking the view, so I couldn’t tell if this was good news or the worst kind of bad news.

Varian Kronos waited in the dim hall, running a hand through his long blond hair, narrowed eyes bouncing between us, a frown on his lips when he spotted me buttoning my shirt.

“We finally cracked Maldrake’s safe open. But we’re fucked, Ry.”

“What? There’s supposed to be twenty thousand gilder in there and documents we can sell. Are you telling me it’s empty?” Ryland’s expression went thunderous. “If that lying sack of shit set us up, I’ll kill him, I swear to the gods, I will.”

“Worse than empty.” With one step, Var moved between me and Ryland, his lean body thrumming with tension. “You’ll have to go see for yourself. If I tell you, you’ll probably break my nose out of spite, just like last time.”

“That only happened once,” Ryland muttered, shooting me the side eye as he stalked down the hall lined with paintings of rich Fae aristocrats. “Fine. So there’s a problem. What else is new? We always have fucking problems. Are you two coming?”

Varian’s shoulders sagged, face drawn, looking like the world had just ended. “Go on ahead, boss. We’re right behind you.”

I went to follow, but Varian caught my wrist in an iron grip with a subtle shake of his head. Ryland hardly noticed, taking the sweeping staircase two steps at a time, heading toward the sound of panicked arguing upstairs.

I rubbed my stinging nose as he disappeared, a reeking smell hitting me full in the face. The chemical scent of spent magic cut through the musty odor of this closed-up mansion, pungent enough for me to recognize I’d never smelled anything like it before.

Sour…but rotten, too, like someone had opened up an old grave.

“What’s going on?” I peered into Varian’s face, which was getting better by the day.

For tonight’s job, he’d braided his blond hair back from his face, showcasing a jaw that seemed to grow more defined every time I looked at him.

And those golden eyes…could his eyes get any more damned beautiful?

Definitely not something I should be noticing.

Because I was already fucking Ryland Storme.

Because Varian was my best friend.

My only friend in the whole, godsforsaken world.

Because people like us…I blew out a breath.

No, wanting more than I already had was a recipe for disaster.

“I need you to do something for me, Lyrae.” I tugged against his unrelenting hold, but Varian hissed, “I need you to swear that for once in your fucking life, you’ll do exactly what I say.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Since we’ve known each other our whole lives, you know how ridiculous that statement is. Seriously, Var, why are you acting like…”

“Go back to the house and find your sister. Pack one bag each. Whatever you can carry and get yourselves outside the city walls as fast as you can. You remember that place in the forest I showed you?” He didn’t bother waiting for my reply.

“Stay close to the rocks and hide. At dawn, blend in with the farmers leaving Blackcastle and head south to the Havens. Steal enough money and food to get yourselves to the next town, then the one after that. Don’t stop moving until you reach the ocean. ”

His expression was so hollow my blood chilled. “Then get on a boat. Any fucking boat to any fucking where, so long as it takes you and Ariel off this godsdamned continent.”

Every muscle in my body turned to water, the air hollowing out of my lungs. This time, I managed to pull free, rubbing my wrist. “What is going on, Varian? You’re scaring me right now.”

“I’m giving you permission to survive. I’m giving you a chance, Lyrae. You’re strong, and you can do this, but you have to go. Right now.” His gleaming eyes frantically searched mine, our lips almost brushing before he tipped his forehead against mine.

Oh gods, was this…was he…saying goodbye?