Wicked Ruin (Se7en Sinners Book 3)

  The weed and scotch are twin weights on my frame. I feel so heavy in his grasp, but he handles me as if I weigh nothing at all, manipulating my body like I’m a precious porcelain doll. I’m dizzy, but so present in this moment…so fucking aware of his every inhale, his every groan, his every rapid heartbeat.

  I don’t know how Niko pulls away, but he does, panting heavily. My breaths are just as labored. It was just a couple minutes—if that—but it felt like being fucked for hours. The kind of fucked that you still feel days later whenever you squeeze your thighs together, remembering the slickness, the fullness.

  “Please…” I beg. I’m so wet that I can feel dampness seeping through my panties and onto the sarong. And my nipples are so hard that it physically hurts as they press against the restricting bra top.

  “You should go,” he manages to say, his voice strained. He still lies on the bed, propped up by his elbows, but his hands are tight fists at his sides. Sweat beads on his brow. And his entire body is tight and tense. His entire body.

  I don’t mean to gawk at the pronounced bulge in his pants, but I’m way past the point of trying to appear decent and moral. Mouth dry, I lick my lips, imagining how he would taste—how he would feel—against my tongue.

  I tingle. I ache. I need.

  This isn’t sexual attraction. That doesn’t even begin to describe the intense feeling of hunger simmering in my soul. And now that I’ve gotten just a taste…I don’t know how we can ever go back to how things were before.

  “Go, Eden,” he grits, his jaw locked tight. “You need to go. Because if you don’t, I’m going to ask you to stay.”

  I force my eyes away—from his sexy mussed hair, from his tortured expression, from the erection throbbing painfully in his slacks—and slowly push my heavy body from the bed. I can’t do this to us. I won’t. My life is complicated enough. I won’t risk his life or his friendship. He means too much to me.

  “I’m…I’m sorry,” I stammer, picking up my shoes. I don’t even bother to put them on before stumbling to the door to let myself out.

  Niko stays on the bed, fisting the duvet and working to catch his breath. His eyes are radiant when he looks to me. “You did well, E.”

  I nod, not believing a word of it, and open the door before I beg him to let me stay.

  I don’t realize how high I am until I try to make my way back to my room. But this doesn’t feel like a normal high. This is like being on a combination of the most potent strains of X and Molly, with a champagne chaser. However, I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m in control of my actions and my feelings, yet all I want to do is turn back, slip into Niko’s room, and slip out of my clothes. I’m so beyond horny that I’m imagining sex noises…moaning, the slap of skin, grunts of pleasure.

  No. Not imagining it.

  I stumble past a door that’s partially open. Just cracked, yet it’s enough for me to bear witness to what’s going down on the other side.

  Lucifer.

  Naked.

  And fucking.

  A woman is sprawled out before him on the bed, her long legs straight against his shoulders. He holds her by her hips as he strokes her deep and mercilessly, each thrust more violent than the next. Yet, the harder he fucks her, the louder she moans and begs for more. And in my hazy stupor, I no longer see the woman. It’s me with my ankles resting on his shoulders as Lucifer takes me fast and deep and hard. I can still remember what he feels like as he punishes my womb. And when his hands trail up her body to clutch her breasts, I can still remember how I cried out when those elegant fingers pinched and rolled my nipples while I slid up and down on his cock.

  And that’s a problem.

  I try to force myself to walk away and leave Lucifer to his depravity, but the sight of a third party traipsing into view freezes me where I stand.

  Kairo, naked and hard as steel, climbs onto the bed and sidles up beside Lucifer. With a look of worship in his eyes, he begins to kiss and stroke Lucifer’s neck, his chest, his taut abs. Lucifer rests a hand on Kairo’s lower back and slides it down to palm his pert ass, his other hand still fondling one of the woman’s breasts.

  I thought I was turned on before, but this…I wasn’t prepared for this. And I definitely wasn’t ready for what happens next.

  Lucifer pulls out, his massive hardness glistening with the woman’s arousal. As she shifts onto her knees and turns around, Kairo kisses a trail down Lucifer’s torso, going lower…lower…lower. Until both he and the unknown woman are licking and sucking Lucifer together, eagerly feasting on his stiff, throbbing flesh.

  I cover my mouth with a trembling hand, biting back a gasp. Or a moan. I can’t be sure. But I know I shouldn’t be here. Still, my legs are immersed in cement, my limbs leaden with my own unquenched desire. That’s not why I stay though. The erotic scene playing out before me isn’t the reason I can’t look away.

  His face.

  Lucifer’s beautiful, cold face. His features aren’t contorted in ecstasy. His dazzling eyes aren’t narrowed in concentration as he fights to hold on to his orgasm. His sensual, full mouth isn’t parted as he releases a rousing hiss. His strong, angled jaw isn’t tight as he prepares to release himself onto their willing, snaking tongues.

  He looks…bored. Detached. As if he can’t force himself to feel. As if he is far, far away from that bed, this room, maybe even this realm. As if all this—the sex, the indulgence, the debauchery—is just a distraction. From what, I don’t know. And I don’t think I want to find out.

  But still…I can’t look away. It feels like turning from him now would be an act of abandonment, and somehow, in this moment, we share a secret that no one else will ever know. I know what it feels like to be left behind by those who had sworn to love and care for me, and so does he. Maybe that’s our biggest secret of all.

  I hear voices approaching from down the hall, so before I’m caught, I step away from the door and go the opposite direction. Whatever high I was feeling from the joint and the breathing ritual has been replaced with something different entirely. Sadness. I feel sad for Lucifer. To be so powerful, so feared, yet so melancholy…

  I wasn’t supposed to see that. Not from him. And as irrational as it is, I resent him for it. I wanted to detest him despite my body’s draw to him, but now…now I pity him. I feel for him. And that makes me want to hate him even more. Because he doesn’t get to make me feel. He hasn’t earned that privilege. After all he’s done to me, to my sister, to Legion, he doesn’t deserve a fucking ounce of sympathy from me, kindred spirits or not.

  I’ve barely made it inside my room when there’s a knock at the door. I expect it to be Niko, checking to see how I’m feeling after things got way awkward, so I swing open the door without asking whom it is.

  Legion stands in the doorframe, his massive build absorbing the light around him. His silver eyes are pinched into a slight frown and he shifts his gaze from my head to the tops of my pushed up breasts to the flat expanse of my exposed belly to my bare thigh. After he’s finished taking inventory of my body, he flicks his glare up to my face, still flushed with longing.

  “I had to see…” he begins, his voice raw. “I had to know that you were still—”

  Mine.

  He doesn’t even get the word out before his mouth his mouth covers mine and he sweeps my body into his arms. But his desperate, fervent kiss feels like Mine. He traces those four letters with his tongue as he tastes the yearning building deep within me. And when he walks us to the bed to lay me down on my back, the word is reflected in his starlit stare as he stands over me, watching me writhe with need.

  Mine.

  “Yes,” I answer, without needing to hear the question.

  And when he rips off that ridiculous sarong and jeweled top, he carves the edict on my womb, claiming me. Staining me.

  Yet, even as my back arches and I come so hard that I see stars behind my eyelids and my limbs go limp with exhaustion, I can’t deny a niggling feeling at the back of my head, te
lling me that I’m wrong. He’s wrong. Something feels…wrong.

  Mine.

  Am I?

  I’m surprised when I wake up with Legion still wrapped around me, my cheek to his chest, his deep breaths stirring the tousled hair atop my head. I’ve missed this so much, so much that I want to cry. I’ve never felt more secure than when I’m in his arms. I’ve never felt more beautiful than when I’m splayed out before him, naked and achy. I didn’t think I’d ever get this feeling back, and now that I have, I’m afraid of letting go. I’m afraid that he’ll wake up and realize that too much has changed, and what we were before cannot be salvaged.

  But that fear is spawned from something else too.

  Last night, as Legion loomed over me, those eyes flecked with stardust roaming my body, I saw a man possessed. Not by lust or passion, but possessed with a ravenous hunger that made me shiver under his stare. He touched me as if it was the first time, with awe and wonder and excitement. Or maybe he was committing each dip and curve to memory in anticipation of what was to come. Our days could very well be numbered. What if last night was our last time?

  I don’t know. But while he felt good—better than good—as he stroked me to the brink of death, he felt like a stranger. His body was the same, his heat as smoldering as ever, his scent still masculine and intoxicating. He even tasted just as I remembered. But he wasn’t him. And as hard as I closed my eyes and pretended we were back in his room, drowning in a sea of dove grey linens, our naked limbs tangled together, I felt it in my gut, twisting my insides with the truth.

  Legion was different. He is different. And I don’t know what that means for either of us.

  Nature takes its hold on my body, and even in my commiserating, I can no longer ignore my desperate need for the bathroom. I slowly wriggle out from under his arm that’s draped over my shoulders, careful not to wake him. Luckily, he only stirs and rolls onto his side, allowing me to release the breath I was holding and get to the bathroom to release my bladder. I finish up, slip on the silk robe behind the door, and return to the bed just as Legion begins to wake.

  “Hey sleepyhead,” I whisper, settling onto the bed beside him and slide under the covers.

  Legion blinks rapidly, looking around. His sleep-weary eyes fall on me, and a dimple forms between his brows. “Eden?”

  I smile, despite the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Who else were you expecting?”

  He blinks again and looks down his body, covered only by a silk sheet. Confusion is etched deep in his features.

  “Something wrong?” I ask, running a hand through his tousled hair in hopes of soothing him.

  Legion clears his throat and shakes his head. “No. Just…tired.”

  “Go back to sleep. It’s still early.”

  He shakes his head again and my heart plummets. “I need to get going. A lot to do for tonight.”

  Right. Tonight.

  The big masquerade party that Lilith and Andras have been tirelessly working on to draw out Uriel and his zealots.

  Legion gently shrugs away from my touch and sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. With his broad, chiseled back to me, I get a glimpse of the horrid dragon’s spiny vertebrae and vicious tail, all elaborate scales and talons. Even without facing me, it taunts me.

  His elbows on his knees and his hands tugging at his hair, Legion heaves out a wistful breath then stands. It’s hard not to stare at his beautiful frame and feel a little sad as he tugs his jeans back on. I want to ask him what he’s thinking, but I’m not sure I’m ready for the answer.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he mutters. Then he leans over and brushes his lips over mine. I don’t know why, but the gesture causes tears to sting my eyes and a hard knot to form in my throat, making it impossible for me to respond.

  I’m still watching the door long after he leaves, wondering if he’ll ever come back.

  Deep down, I know he was never really here.

  I meet up with Adriel in the gym for a bit more light wielding training. She instructs me to generate those glowing orbs of concentrated sunshine over and over again until my head is throbbing and my eyes feel as if they’re being torn from their sockets.

  “Again.”

  I grit my teeth to keep from snapping and close my palms, extinguishing the perfectly round spheres already in them. Deep breath. Two more appear within seconds, and it takes minimal focus on my part.

  “You’re getting faster. Good. In battle, you’ll need to be able to conjure the holy light without thinking.”

  “Then shouldn’t I be learning how to use it?” I counter, annoyance ringing clear in my voice.

  “Soon. Now, again.”

  I ignore the order and look around the empty gym, needing to give my brain a break. “Where is everyone?”

  “Preparing.”

  I guess the masquerade has everyone on edge. Even Cain was absent during my visit with Sister this morning, which I didn’t complain about. It was nice to have her all to myself for a little while. I have to admit, she looks amazing for someone who survived a bomb blast and suffered serious burns all over her body. She mentioned a skin graft, and while I’m no physician, I’m pretty sure the recovery for that would still be pretty extensive. But Sister’s wounds seem to be healing at an expedited rate. Not just healing—disappearing. She’s starting to look and sound like her happy-go-lucky self again. When she smiles, it isn’t pinched with pain. She has almost full function of her limbs and her skin coloring is evening out. It even looks like some of her hair is growing back. The transformation is incredible.

  I glance back at Adriel, my chin lifted. “Are you planning to attend tonight?”

  “I am, despite Lucifer’s suggestion,” she answers coolly. “It’s been a while since I’ve attended a party.”

  I close my hands and when I flex my fingers, two new balls of light rest atop my palms. “Do angels even have parties? Isn’t that a sin?”

  Adriel laughs, the sound like tinkling wind chimes. “Not at all. Lasciviousness, drunkenness, fornication…those are sins. A simple jovial gathering of friends is not.”

  “But aren’t we committing sin just by having a party under false pretenses? Isn’t that sorta like lying?”

  Adriel shrugs. “No one’s perfect. Not even angels.”

  I lift a brow, dropping my hands to my sides. My muscles are stiff with exertion. “Isn’t that the whole point of angels? The whole “perfect being” thing?”

  “We strive to be, if only to be closer to Christ. We often fall short.” She bites her rosy-hued bottom lip in contemplation. “My own history has proven that to be true.”

  We stare each other down, neither one of us willing to address the big ass elephant in the room. Luckily, we don’t have to avoid the subject for too long.

  Both our heads flick to the entrance of the gym just as Legion comes stalking in, his expression unreadable.

  “Eden.” He looks from me, his current lover, to his former lover. Awkward. “Adriel.”

  “What’s going on?” I question, jumping off the raised platform of the ring. Adriel does the same, although a little more gracefully.

  “We have a problem.” His eyes go all shifty again, as if he’s uncertain who he should look at. “Irin’s quarters. Now.”

  He doesn’t even wait for us to catch up with his long, hurried strides as we trail him to The Watcher’s lounge. He hardly grumbles a greeting when we enter, the rest of the Se7en, Lucifer, Niko, and Irin are already seated and waiting for us.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask as I take my usual spot.

  Kairo immediately comes to offer me a glass of cold water. Blushing, I accept. I literally just saw him in the most compromising position ever, and now he’s back to being poised and polished. My gaze flicks to Lucifer reflexively. I’m startled to find that his eyes are already on me, an amused smile gracing his sensual lips.

  “Crysis has disappeared,” Legion announces, pulling my attention away from Luc’s uncomfort
able stare.

  “What?” I nearly choke on my water.

  “My staff checked his quarters,” Irin confirms. “There’s no sign of him, and no one knows when he disappeared.”

  “Surveillance?” Toyol questions.

  Irin shakes her head. “Whether he was taken or left of his own accord, he went undetected. Camera signals were scrambled. There’s no trace of him.”

  Shit. Crysis must’ve used his nifty Nephilim trick of evasion to sneak out. But why? He isn’t a prisoner here.

  “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted that half-breed fuck,” Cain spits. “He probably went straight to the Alliance and told them everything.”

  “I don’t think he would do that,” I blurt out, drawing every eye. I swallow, feeling self-conscious. “It’s just that…I don’t think he’d go back to them after what they did to him.”

  “Yeah right.” Cain rolls his eyes. “He was probably just biding his time, waiting on a piece of info that would put him back in bed with them. Once a rat, always a rat.”

  I shake my head. “I felt his mind. I saw it. There was no sense of betrayal in it. There was warmth…sincerity. But no malice.” I leave out the part where he touched his mind to mine, a gentle stroke along the side of my consciousness.

  “But that still doesn’t prove that he’s not spilling our secrets right now. After what happened in the gym…”

  Cain doesn’t have to finish the accusation before I know where’s he’s going with this.

  After what I did to Crysis, he may now be feeling more inclined to betray us. And if that’s true, then I did this. I’m to blame for Crysis’s shifting loyalty. I swear, if my temper somehow put us all in danger, I will never forgive myself. So I have to believe in him—I have to believe that Crysis would never turn on us in an act of petty resentment. He was my friend. Even after our fight, I looked into his green eyes and saw goodness and kindness in him. That’s the Crysis I grew to know and care for. And if he’s in trouble, we have to find him.