Sinless Demons: A Forbidden Fated Mates Reverse Harem Series (The Monsters and Miseries Series Book 2)

by A. K. Koonce

  Her steely silver gaze is still narrowed on me as I offer her a small smile.

  “What is said between us stays between us,” she commands.

  I feel that binding command clamp through me like a weight written in iron and deposited in the deepest part of my soul.

  Instead of the nasty feeling that normally turns my stomach when a command is given, a new feeling overtakes me: desire. It flits through my stomach with a twirl and a tingle, and I have to physically remind myself that she’s not a fan of my cock spontaneously getting hard like it is.

  It’s a pity, really.

  “Whatever secrets you hear around this kingdom are mine. I want to know every single detail that hits your ears. You’re mine.” A humming growl slips from my lips when she says that, but she keeps going. “You’re my asset, not his. Do you understand?”

  I keep the space between us in her little bedroom, but at this point, the erection straining my jeans is pushing so hard, it’s about to burst right through like a surprise party no one wanted.

  “I understand,” I say lowly and stiffly.

  Really stiffly.

  Slowly, I clap my hands casually in front of myself, and her attention flits there in an instant. She blinks several times at the outline below my hips, and though she seems annoyed, her breathing increases. Her gaze averts but comes right back to my package.

  And my heart’s pounding so fucking hard, it’s doing nothing but producing even more quality blood flow to the uprising south.

  “Anything else?” I ask carefully.

  “No more erections!” She shouts at random.

  She was doing so damn good at being professional until that point.

  Laughter shakes from my chest and skims over my lips as I watch her inky wings ruffle behind her. Her wings are her haven, but they also give her away.

  She’s not a blusher. She’s not innocent enough to feel shame for her dirty thoughts. And she shouldn’t. She just . . . gets her feathers ruffled every now and then.

  I take two daunting steps toward her, and her body reacts by steeling her spine even more, if that’s possible.

  My fingers lift and instead of touching her long silver hair, I release a string of glinting smoke to caress her soft locks. She never takes her eyes off of mine, though. Even as I tell her in the quietest rumble of a voice, “You’re my handler, love. But I’m an incubus. Some things inside of me are too powerful even for you.” A filthy thought accompanies that statement, and I see it shine in her eyes the moment the same dirty thought flickers through her mind as well.

  My index finger lifts higher, and I’m almost touching her cheek. The thin line of smoke caresses her skin, and the moment the contact is made, her lips part. Big gray eyes watch me with so much vulnerability, it fucking splits me wide open. My palm slides across her jaw, and suddenly, I’m leaning into her.

  And she’s leaning into me.

  My mouth is drawn to her like her breath gives me life. My lashes lower.

  Just as her lips part ever so slightly more.

  And a cruel whisper slips out before the heat between us bursts into sparking flames.

  “No touching,” she says on a shaking tone. Her chest heaves against mine. For a single second longer, I feel every heartbeat she has to offer.

  The command she gives is stronger than the demands of my heart. I step back. My hands fall to my sides, and there are so many thoughts clouding my mind, I have to shake my head hard to realize I’m still hovering over her. I linger long enough to see the fear in her eyes. I don’t know if it’s fear that I won’t listen . . . or that she’ll break her own rule herself.

  I force my spine to straighten, and it’s even harder for me to force the smile to my lips.

  The lust that was just dancing in my stomach is leaden and sickly now.

  I keep smiling.

  “What now, my Princess?” The title is foreign on my tongue, and I want nothing more than to call her all the sweet things my heart always feels, but I have to tramp that back down. I have to find a distance between us.

  Gods knows she has.

  “Now, we go to lunch.” Her wings ruffle behind her small shoulders, and the way she looks away from me and walks out expecting me to follow is like a knife sliding into my heart over and over and over again.

  Pain is all I feel.

  And yet, I smile.

  4

  Wasted Time

  Aries

  In the quiet hall, I pause just outside my door. Krave’s footfalls halt the moment mine do. My breath catches as confusing emotions tumble around inside of me.

  Someday, things won’t be such a mess between us. My life won’t be such a mess.

  Someday.

  I exhale slowly, and just as I’m about to take another step, a voice calls out to me from the shadows in the far corner.

  “Don’t forget to lose the horns, Aries. Wouldn’t want to upset daddy dearest.” The mysterious voice is a scuttling sound, like cold wind slipping through cracks in a wall.

  I’d recognize Sev’s tone with or without the darkness, though.

  Krave steps toward the voice and the nothingness. A Shadow Guard isn’t likely to out himself, but I guess we always look after our own.

  My hand lifts, and I stop Krave’s deadly stride before he can rip apart the shadows looking for an unseen threat.

  I nod to Sev.

  He’s right.

  There’s a small tremble in my fingers as I lightly slide my fingertips up the long curve of the onyx horns. It’s odd but . . . I like them. They feel like I’ve had them all my life, and I’ve just now grown into them.

  Just to be told to hide them away.

  “Ari,” Krave whispers gently.

  I peer at him out of the corner of my eye, and he’s entirely focused on the top of my head. Sadness shines in his inky gaze. My heart pulls. I’m more connected with him and with Damien and Ryke because of my new appearance. It isn’t just horns, though. I’ll glamour them, sure. But it won’t change how I feel.

  It won’t change what I am.

  That’s true, Catherine says, all too sweetly.

  I don’t know why I can handle her better when she’s a cunt. I can’t even call her that now. Gods, I’ll have to start calling her Catherine the Kind.

  Or just Catherine, she whispers.

  My eyes close, and with a swift twirl of my glamour, the horns are gone. They’re there but they’re not. I feel them. I sense the weight of them, but it’s more like a phantom feeling.

  They’re gone.

  The sound of Krave clearing his throat just confirms what I already know.

  “Sev, I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Krave says as soon as the words leave my mouth.

  “Oh, I look forward to it, Ari,” the unseen man says from the depths of the shadows.

  I ignore them both and continue on. My gown sways over the glossy floorboards, and every step I take is like I’m walking back in time.

  I’m the youngest Princess of the Kingdom of Roses once more.

  And I still fucking hate it.

  “You’re late,” my father says as Krave oddly pulls out my chair for me.

  There’s a brief moment of awkwardness where I’m looking at the incubus, and he’s aloofly looking anywhere but at me. With a small smile to him, I gracefully slip into the cushioned red seat. He jars me forward hard until my ribs hit the table, and the wind is knocked out of me.

  I have to strain to look over the high back of the chair and give him a good glare.

  He doesn’t meet my eyes.

  Because I’m his handler.

  Not his friend. Not his mate. Not even his enemy.

  I swallow that thought down and face the small dining table. Father sits at the far end across from me. My cousin is to my left, and my mother is to my right. One of them beams a cheery smile at me, the other . . . the other hasn’t looked at me since I killed her son.

  A heaviness settles in my
stomach, and I don’t care to eat the food decorating the table, but I take small sips of water for the first few lingering minutes.

  “Uncle Gravier suggested I get a good demon for protection, just like you.” Pen tilts her head at me until my attention slowly shifts to her.

  I blink but say nothing.

  Saying nothing is the safe alternative here.

  “Every girl needs protection,” my father says in his booming tone that echoes through the large dimly-lit room. “We have plenty of fine demons who need handlers, too. They’d be honored to have a sweet owner like yourself.”

  My jaw clenches.

  I blink and say nothing.

  Without thought, I trade my water out for wine, and I’m no longer sipping it, but downing it as fast as the demon waiter can pour it.

  “Aries, I think that’s quite enough.” Father commands.

  But he doesn’t own me. He can’t bind me. Not like his other pets.

  I motion to the inside of the empty silver goblet, and the quiet waiter hesitates but pours me another. When it’s gone, I motion again. Pour. Drink. Motion. Pour. Dribble down my chin. Clink the side with my nail. Pour. Cough some up when it goes down the wrong hole. Vaguely clatter my nails against the shining metal. Pour. Slosh red wine over the rim of the cup—

  “Enough!” The word rains down over the room.

  The waiter steps back like he, too, is a member of the Shadow Guard.

  “Krave, take Aries back to her room. Get her some water and don’t let her out until she’s found her senses again.” The orders come out one after the other, but I smile to myself when I realize his error.

  Someone else is just a bit faster than me.

  “I’m terribly sorry, my King, but . . . you’re not my handler,” Krave says on the smooth taunting tone of his.

  My heart skips a beat for some odd reason that I don’t understand.

  I shove back from the table. My gaze holds the familiar gray eyes across from me, and I smile softly before walking away from them all.

  I accomplished nothing, but it feels like so much all at the same time. It’s so much that my heartbeat pounds with every quick step I take back to my room. I pass the crimson roses in their vases at every corner, I pass the line of formal armory, I even pass Sev, and I never once pause to see any of it.

  My pulse speeds with warmth spreading through my chest. On quick steps, I enter the privacy of my bedroom, and I don’t even wait for Krave to close the door behind himself before my fingers are slipping through his soft inky locks.

  And then my lips slam to his.

  His brows lift as I close my eyes, and a beat of time passes with his hands held platonically in the air before he clamps his palms around my hips and spins us so I’m pinned against the door by his hips alone.

  The moment my lips part, his tongue meets mine, ready and hungry. Every part of me reacts, my body shifts, but really, it’s just my hips shifting against his. A groan hums from his throat, and he pulls back with a shaking breath leaving his lungs.

  “This feels suspiciously like touching, love,” he whispers with a smile.

  A real smile.

  A smile that sears my soul with branding heat.

  My head tilts back, and I search his dark eyes. I want him so damn bad. I want—I want something neither of us have.

  And that’s trust.

  “There’s a temporary rule.” My words fan against his mouth.

  “Oh?” His dark hair falls into his eyes as he cocks his head at me. “What’s that?”

  “For the next thirty seconds, no rules exist between us,” I tell him with my heart soaring and breaking all at the same time.

  I want to forget for a moment how completely ruined our lives are.

  I want him to make me forget everything but how he makes me feel when I’m near him.

  I want—I want him.

  His palms slide beneath my thighs as his nails dig in nice and deep before lifting me and wrapping my legs around his hips. A tearing gasp of a sigh shakes from my lips, and he just eats it right up as he leans in close. “You forget just what I can do in such a short time, Ari,” he says on a deliciously gravelly tone, his hips rocking subtly into mine.

  My heart hammers against my chest. I stare down on him, wide-eyed and waiting.

  He doesn’t move another inch.

  Time ticks by with every thundering pound of my pulse.

  “Just tell me you want me,” he whispers, so quietly I barely hear him. Closer, he tilts into me. His nose runs the length of my throat, coating my skin in hot fanning breaths. My core tightens when his mouth skims low along my collar bone. “Tell me what you desire, and it’s yours.” His teeth drag lightly across the top of my breast until my spine is arching into him desperately. “Just tell me you want my cock, love. Tell me you want me to fuck your pretty little cunt so deep, you’ll do nothing but tremble beneath me and beg me for more.” His magical fingers slide down my lips and throat as his mouth follows the path, and a violent volt of tingling energy pours into me from the small touch.

  I want—I want him so fucking bad, I can feel it in every nerve of my body.

  His hooded eyes meet mine once more. His lips hover over my parted gasping mouth. His tongue slides across his lower lip just before he speaks in the rumbling whisper once more. “Tell me—” dark lashes lift and a smile pulls at his lips, “tell me our thirty seconds are up, Ari. Tell me the rules are not meant to be broken.” His head dips lower, and if I speak a single word, my lips will brush his. “Tell me, Ari,” he taunts once more.

  And it all clicks into place like rusty old gears turning.

  He did this on purpose.

  He doesn’t want thirty seconds. He doesn’t want rules. He isn’t good with rules.

  But this incubus very much needs hard lines.

  Which is why we shouldn’t be touching. If I let my guard down, if I let his craziness consume me, he’ll never do what I’m about to ask him to do.

  “Rules are rules, Krave.” I pull back from him until my head hits the door with a quiet thud. “No touching,” I say firmly, and it hurts my heart so damn bad, I swear we’re going to hurt each other just being around one another.

  He nod slowly. A look passes across his tragically handsome features, but he keeps on nodding. His hands release my thighs as his palms take their time skimming up my hips, my ribs, my breasts.

  And then he isn’t touching me at all.

  With one step back, too much space presses between us.

  Just like I said I wanted.

  “Good,” I say on a wavering tone. I slip out from beneath him, and when he can no longer see my reaction, I close my eyes hard and search for a full breath in my aching lungs. “I’m—I’m going to rest. Wake me when the sun goes down.”

  Another quiet nod.

  I stand at the bed, and he still faces the door, unmoving.

  “Krave,” I say carefully. Remorsefully.

  It takes time, but he brings his gaze to meet mine.

  A painful beat passes between us.

  “At dusk, I want you to take me to the cellar.” My chin tilts high, forcing my composure once more as his brows lift in surprise.

  I really don’t know why he looks so stunned.

  He and I both know I’ll never leave the three men down there to rot.

  5

  The Dungeon

  Aries

  A hot dampness assaults my nose the moment we take our first steps down the dark sloping tunnel. I’d like to say I’m not such a prissy princess that I’ve never wandered down into the depths of the castle’s dungeons, but seriously, it smells like warm piss and lingering vomit, and I have never in my life stepped foot down here.

  As a member of the Shadow Guard, I worked away from home. I had to separate myself from my kingdom if I wanted to help at all. I couldn’t be caught. So I never once laid eyes on the demonic prisoners held within my own home.

  “Just let me do all the talking when we get down the
re, love,” Krave whispers, his hand hovering over the small of my back but not quite touching.

  The way he doesn’t touch me, it just seems to make me all the more aware of where his hands should be resting. Where his fingers would be grazing against my body. Where I should feel his tingling addicting touch.

  Instead, I feel nothing but cold air between his long fingers and my prickling flesh.

  The deeper down we go, the more the darkness settles in around us. Krave lifts his hand, and the sparkling smoke that clings to his fingertips shines little lights from the glinting silver glitter that’s mixed with his dark magic. The white dim lighting dances along the wet brick walls. Literally. The shadows of a slender woman with a sweeping gown and a lithe man in a tailored suit sway intimately together, the flecks of silver meld together to create the little loving couple, and I do distinctly make out a detailed pair of curving horns arching up from her head. When the graceful man dips his partner with a bend of her slim figure, he places a chaste kiss to the center of her throat.

  A shiver races down my neck.

  I feel that kiss everywhere.

  My attention slips to him, but he seems unaware of what artistic show his magic is performing for us. His attention is focused ahead, and I can’t help but smile at him. The light carves his features into sharp lines and haunted beauty.

  He’s always so tragic-looking. So . . . tormented by the secrets he keeps.

  He isn’t a bad man. He’s a good man in a bad, bad world.

  And I’m tired of punishing him for the things we’ve both done.

  “Krave,” I whisper, my fingers catching his for a single second.

  Then he lifts that hand, shaking out and flicking away the pretty image of the couple like rain droplets from his hand. It’s only then that I realize we’ve stopped walking. A cage-like door is in front of him, and through the thick bars, a pale face can be seen glaring back at us.

  The guard on the other side has dirt streaked across his hard features. A deep scar runs through his right eyebrow and across his cheek. He seems like the type of guy who lives in a dungeon. Yes, he definitely looks like a dungeon master of sorts.