Envy (The Damning Book 2)

by Katie May

  echoed in the small shower - echoed through me with the strength of a drum-

  line. Instinctively, he began to rock his hips, but I slapped one of his ass

  cheeks.

  "No," I growled, and he stopped immediately. Taking my time -

  punishment was a bitch, after all - I ran a nail down his length. He was long,

  longer than any of the other men I had slept with, and thick. The first time I

  had taken him, I was afraid he wouldn't fit. I shouldn't have been surprised

  when we came together like two pieces of a puzzle. After all, the fates

  wouldn't have given me a mate I couldn't take.

  Even if I did lose my ability to walk for a week afterwards.

  When his breaths continued to deepen, erupting in quick spurts, I replaced

  my nail with my tongue, licking his thick underside and the throbbing vein.

  Adjusting my hand around the base for easier access, I wrapped my mouth

  around his tip, using my saliva as a lubricant.

  "Fuck," he whispered harshly, hands tangling in my hair.

  I immediately pulled away with a frown, once more slapping his ass.

  "No touching," I hissed. When I was sure he would be compliant, I

  happily pulled him back into my mouth. He was long, but I knew I could take

  him. Once he was fully in my mouth, I began to hum. His gasp made my

  insides tighten deliciously, heat pooling low in my core.

  With practiced efficiency, I sucked him in and out of my mouth

  repeatedly. Through it all, he whispered my name, told me how much he

  loved me, begged me for more.

  When his cock began to quiver, I pulled away, wiping my mouth with the

  back of my hand.

  His eyes were very near pleading with me. Begging me.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I brought my lips to his ear, relishing in the way

  he shivered.

  I did that. Me.

  "Fuck me, Devlin. Fuck me, and show me that you're mine."

  Taking my words as permission, he hoisted me up, and my legs

  automatically wrapped around his waist. In this position, I could feel his cock

  directly against my aching core. In one, firm thrust, he was sheathed inside of

  me.

  I moaned, feeling utterly full to the point of breaking.

  He waited, still inside me, until I nodded.

  "Move." He began to rock his hips, fucking me in earnest, and I matched

  his movements. Our lovemaking became erratic, in tandem to our racing

  hearts, but still we did not let up. His lips clashed with mine, tongue prodding

  my seams. I opened to him immediately, taking him in. Loving him.

  Showing him exactly who he belonged to.

  I gasped his name seconds before I reached the precipice. I exploded, my

  pussy clenching around his cock. He continued thrusting in and out of me

  before chasing his own release, my name a prayer on his lips.

  My legs quivered, and I quite literally needed him to stand up. Even when

  he placed me on trembling legs, I found myself leaning against him, pressing

  my forehead against his chest. Overcome by emotion, I pressed a soft kiss

  there. I felt unnaturally dizzy, a feat that had never happened after sex before.

  Why was the world spinning? I blinked rapidly to clear the sluggish fatigue

  from my mind.

  "I love you," I whispered. The words felt foreign on my lips. Unfamiliar.

  They weren't words I had ever thought I would use again romantically. I had

  thought that type of love had been driven out of me, cut out with a keen

  blade.

  I couldn't deny the truth of the words, though, no matter how much I

  wished to deny them. They surrounded me like a warm blanket, leaving me

  comforted and loved. Cherished.

  God, he made me feel cherished.

  And a part of me hated it - hated the way he made me feel - while the

  other part of me clung to it desperately. Pathetically, if I was being honest

  with myself.

  At my confession, Devlin went still. Only his heart told me he was still

  alive, still breathing, as it thumped beneath me.

  "Say it again.” His tone dropped to a hushed murmur, almost as if he was

  worried anything louder would break the glass globe we had found ourselves

  in.

  I finally lifted my head, placing my chin where my forehead had once

  rested. His violet eyes were staring down at me as if I had hung the moon and

  stars. If I had ever doubted his love for me, one look into his eyes

  contradicted that thought. There was no denying he loved me. Was it crazy,

  this relationship between a Genie and an assassin? An assassin and seven

  men? Yes.

  Did it feel right?

  Yes.

  Mustering my courage, I whispered, "I love you, Devlin Genie. I love you

  so fucking much that I don't know what to do with myself at times."

  The smile that erupted on his face was brilliant. It made it worth saying

  those dreaded words.

  I could only hope I wouldn’t regret them.

  TEN

  Z

  The Mermaid King could suck my nonexistent dick.

  The pompous asshole remained rooted on his throne while his

  indolent eyes, the same shade of blue as his son’s, ensnared me. No

  matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t look away.

  The other six thrones were empty, but that didn’t abate how stifling the

  room felt under the many watchful eyes. The King’s sons, Dair’s brothers,

  stood in a semi-circle around their father, eyes intently trained on me. I could

  feel their caress like a branding rod, burning my skin until it touched my

  bone. The heat threatened to burn me from the inside out, threatened to burn

  me alive. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

  Behind them, Dair sat in his wheelchair. His azure eyes, the shade of

  water cresting the shoreline, were also trained on me. I avoided eye-contact

  with a vigor that surprised me. Somehow, I knew that meeting his searing

  gaze would clue the others in on the nature of our relationship.

  “Your highness,” I said with a sardonic courtesy, breaking the silence that

  had stretched for five long, tedious minutes. The Mermaid King’s lips

  twitched, but he remained silent. Watching. Calculating. Those pinprick blue

  eyes of his seemed to stare into my very soul.

  After a long moment, he nodded towards his eldest son. I couldn’t recall

  the name - something with a T - but he had the same golden hair and sun-

  kissed skin as my mate. His smile was coy though as he handed me a slip of

  paper.

  I couldn’t help but note his hand brushed mine a second longer than

  propriety allowed.

  I wrenched my hand away, and a frown carved itself into his handsome,

  marble features. Still, he did not press as he strode back towards his father.

  Dair was glancing between me and his brother, expression inscrutable.

  Feeling as if I was being analyzed beneath a microscope, I unfolded the

  sheet of paper and smoothed out its creases. My brow furrowed as I read

  through what I had been given.

  It was a map of an unfamiliar landscape. From the large expanse of water

  taking up three-fourths of the map, I deduced it was a part of the Mermaid

  territory. The back had handwritten notes about an unnamed man. A brief

  description, biography, and his last known location.

  Readi
ng the words once and then a second time, I quirked a brow. I knew

  it might have been considered rude of me, but my emotions were already at

  an all time high. Unease skittered down my spine at what was very obviously

  an assassination assignment.

  Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t opposed to killing. I couldn’t have won this

  competition nor have been one of the best human assassins if I was. I was,

  however, against killing people I knew nothing about. Who was this male

  with “green eyes” and “red hair” according to the report? What had he done?

  “You want me to kill him,” I said tersely. It wasn’t a question.

  When the King continued to smirk mockingly, the unease turned into a

  rock hard ball churning in my gut. I was discomfited by the prospect of doing

  something to help this evil asshole.

  And that was what he was - evil. There was no doubt about it in my mind.

  He was an evil I was chained to, unfortunately. Somehow, he had crawled

  inside of me, infesting me like a damn parasite. The spell prohibited me from

  harming him or allowing others to harm him. I was trapped, and he was one

  of seven who held the chains.

  Grappling with my own emotions, I nodded once. Innately, I knew it

  wasn’t one of agreement. Did they even have nods for ‘I want to kill you, but

  a spell prohibits me from doing just that’?

  “What did this man do?” I asked the King stiffly.

  Nothing. Just another curl of his lips.

  “We will have a ball to celebrate your...position,” he answered at last. His

  words took me by surprise, and I physically staggered back a step. The

  King’s lips twitched.

  “A ball?” I parroted in disbelief.

  “A ball,” he repeated with a decisive head bob. Behind him, Dair’s lips

  thinned - as pleased by this development as I was.

  And the smile on the Mermaid’s King’s face?

  I had the distinct feeling the ball was just one of his many tests.

  THE DRESSMAKER WAS A SHREWD, tiny woman with coiffed gray

  hair pulled tight on her head and beady brown eyes. She moved with an

  elegance that hinted she may have been a Vampire or even a Shifter.

  Otherworldly.

  A familiar head of orange hair appeared next, smiling brightly.

  I recognized Lupe’s sister immediately. Mali’s mate.

  And Jax’s fiancée, though I didn’t want to think of that. Her smile

  widened when she took stock of me, white teeth flashing.

  “You look beautiful,” she gushed, gliding into the room and perching on

  my couch. The dressmaker barely spared her a glance, despite Atta being a

  princess. Her entire focus was on me and making me as miserable as

  possible.

  That macabre thought was only reinforced when a knife (read as: a

  needle) was jabbed into my side making me wince.

  “This is hell,” I snarkily replied. I had been poked and prodded to a very

  inch of my life. Each stab of the needle felt like a sword through the chest.

  As soon as that petty thought came to me, I felt guilty, a depthless ocean

  that threatened to swallow me whole.

  Atta continued on, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

  “As is the price of beauty, my dear friend,” she said lightly. She leaned

  further back on the couch, folding her hands beneath her ample breasts. If I

  didn’t know that she preferred females, I might’ve been jealous of her

  engagement to Jax. Even knowing what I did, my stomach clenched and

  tightened whenever I thought of the two of them together.

  Even if it was only for show.

  Her words registered to me a second too late.

  “I’m not your friend,” I sputtered out.

  If I expected her to be upset by my words, I was poorly mistaken. She

  merely grinned cheekily.

  “We’re practically family,” she cooed, tossing me a sultry wink.

  “Especially since...”

  I helplessly glanced at the dressmaker, willing Atta with my eyes to shut

  the hell up.

  “I was going to say because you’re my family’s assassin, but whatever

  toots your horn.”

  I rolled my eyes at her cattiness just as the seamstress stabbed a

  particularly sharp pin into my side. I yelped, jumping, but she merely tsked

  her tongue in disapproval. Atta laughed - there was obviously no help coming

  from her.

  “I can’t stay for long.” Atta gracefully moved to her feet, every inch the

  refined, dainty princess. “I just came to deliver a message.”

  “A message?” I asked, but my attention was on the wretched woman

  kneeling before me. I snapped my teeth at her, and she responded with

  purposefully shoving a damn needle into my thigh. “Motherfucker...”

  “She says she’s sorry.” Atta’s calm voice broke me off in mid-curse.

  “And that she loves you. Very much.”

  Her words made me freeze, my muscles locking. The seamstress’s hand

  on my thigh prohibited me from looking directly at Atta, so I settled for

  moving my eyes only.

  “What?”

  There was only one person she could be referring to. One woman who

  she could be talking about.

  Mali.

  Her message delivered, Atta stalked out of the room, her long, peach

  dress trailing behind her. I was left numb and trembling, her words replaying

  in my head.

  Sorry.

  Sorry.

  Sorry.

  Mali, I miss you.

  I forgive you.

  Those thoughts diminished, buried beneath weeks of anger and pain. She

  could be sorry all she wanted, but there would be no forgiveness from me.

  I hardened myself, emptied myself, so I would feel nothing at all.

  ELEVEN

  Z

  Tflashed me his signature smile, looking so much like S at that

  moment it was a physical pain slashing my chest. His chestnut hair

  was shorter than when I had last seen him, only a few days ago, and

  his pale face betrayed his strain despite the easy smile.

  "Any updates?" I asked.

  We stood in a cluster of trees two towns over from the Capital. In the

  distance, I could see the shambles of faded russet colored roofs that made up

  the cozy, minuscule human town T had instructed me to go to. I had found

  him initially inside a tavern, drinking happily and flirting with the pretty

  waitress. When he had seen me, he had jumped to his feet and had guided me

  into the surrounding forests with a simple come-hither crook of his finger.

  The skeletal branches grazed my cheeks, and the bitter wind contradicted the

  bright sun overhead.

  I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders.

  "Nothing," T said. His nervous eyes flickered, taking in every shadow and

  every hidden crevice of the dark forest. The canopy of boughs obscured the

  sunlight minus a single strip that lit where we stood. "We checked every safe

  house in Sector One and Sector Two. They're gone, Z. All of them."

  I processed his words for a moment in silence. It just didn't make any

  sense. How could over a hundred people magically disappear without a trace?

  How could over a hundred assassins disappear? My stomach churned,

  tightened, perilously close to losing the contents of my early morning

  breakfast.

>   "It just doesn't make any sense," T said, echoing my thoughts. He forked

  his fingers through his hair.

  "Nothing about this makes any sense," I agreed. Movement in my

  peripheral captured and ensnared my attention. I frowned, pulling my lip

  between my teeth when I recognized the figure crouched behind a trunk.

  "I should go," I continued, cutting off whatever T was going to say. He

  raised an eyebrow suspiciously but did not comment.

  "Okay?"

  "Okay."

  When he continued standing there, staring at me as if I had grown wings

  and horns, I shoved his shoulder.

  "Trust me, okay?" Canting my head to the side, I nodded at the "hidden"

  figure. T's eyebrows raised, confusion being replaced by amusement. He

  shook his head once in disbelief, muttering beneath his breath.

  With a chaste kiss to my cheek, he hurried out of the forest. I could've

  sworn I heard his chuckle long after he disappeared through the thicket.

  Alone - correction: semi alone - I placed my hand on my hip.

  "You can come out now," I called, not bothering to turn towards the

  intruder.

  I heard the shuffle of leaves, a muffled curse, and then a warm body was

  mere inches from my back.

  "How did you know I was there?" Bash asked, and I finally looked back

  at him. His blond hair was wildly disheveled, a few loose leaves stuck on his

  head. Dirt covered his high cheekbones and nose, and his clothes were

  ruffled. I had never seen Bash so unkempt before, and I couldn't help but

  flush, white hot, at the onslaught of dirty thoughts assaulting me. Namely,

  other ways I could ruffle his clothes and mess up his normally impeccably

  styled hair.

  There was no denying that Bash was a handsome man...and that I was

  attracted to him in a carnal way.

  But then he had to open his damn mouth.

  "Apparently, I'm your babysitter for the day," he said with a sly tilt to his

  lips. Those damn kissable lips with a plump, full lower one and a small upper

  one. I couldn't help but imagine pulling it between my teeth.

  And then his words registered.

  "Babysitter?" I asked in disbelief. When he continued to stare at me, I

  huffed, placing my hands on my hips. "I don't need a fucking babysitter."

  "Try telling that to your other six mates." He leaned back against a tree

  trunk, arms crossed over his chest. "Personally, I think you're kickass enough