Page 37 of Bedeviled

My blood heats at the promise, but before I can respond, I feel him pull away from the connection.

Wait!

I feel him pause.

The thing is, even though I’m comfortable here, I still want that ridiculous eye contact and more sappy, sentimental confessions between us. I want to tell Memnon about Eislyn—and the rest of my day for that matter, though there’s not much to it. And I want to hear about his day, diabolical though it’s likely to have been.

Come here, I finally say. I bite the inside of my cheek. That’s…a command.

I don’t know why I add on that last bit. He’s not bound to me anymore. I can’t force him to do anything, no matter how much I might want to.

But oh, how he seems to relish my order. I can practically taste his enjoyment on my tongue. And I feel that languid, sinful smile of his from across our bond.

As you wish, est amage. I’ll see you soon.

Twenty minutes later, I hear the front door swing open, followed by heavy footfalls on the stairs that have my heart hammering. It’s already done this three separate times, when my coven sisters have entered the house.

This time, however, the heavy footsteps make their way up the creaky stairs, then down my hall.

I open the door before he can knock.

Despite my anticipation, it’s somehow still a shock to see Memnon at my threshold, looking like something I conjured from a wet dream. Honestly, the nerve of Mother Nature to make someone so villainously beautiful.

“Wife,” he says, and I try my hardest to not smile.

I fail miserably.

And he sees it.

His eyes glitter, crinkling a little at the corners. “Are you happy to see me?”

I try to scoff but it comes out more as a delighted laugh. Ugh, I’m delighted.

“Don’t be delusional,” I say. “Why would I possibly be excited?”

“You tell me, Empress. You’re the one commanding me to do your bidding.”

I hear voices on the stairs. Leaning out of my room, I glance down the hallway and see two of my coven sisters coming up to this floor.

Before either of them notice us, I grab Memnon by the wrist and tug him into my room, shutting the door behind him.

When I turn, Memnon is right there, his chest mere inches from mine.

He tilts my head up. “If you’re going to drag me into your room like I’m some dirty little secret,” he says, his voice like velvet, “then I’m going to treat us like one.”

With that, he kisses my neck.

I’d like to say I’m a strong, no-nonsense woman when it comes to my life. But right now, I cave like a derelict house.

A moan slips out, and I grind against Memnon, need rising in me faster than it has any right to.

“That’s it, little witch,” he says between kisses, pressing me against the door. He shoves his leg between mine. “Moan for me again.”

The command is barely out of his mouth when he drags the low collar of my shirt down and my bra along with it, revealing one of my breasts. He leans in, taking the tip of it into his mouth, and gives my nipple a hard suck.

I slap the back of the door, gasping. It’s right then that I hear the voices pass by my door. Undoubtedly they heard me.

Memnon, however, seems completely unbothered.