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Blood Crown: Chapter 1


Bathing in the blood of one’s enemy was an invigorating way to start the day. Unfortunately, this morning required me to forgo my morning ritual of having the former oppressors of Shaytan fill my tub. Today was the day that the envoys arrived from the other five kingdoms that were still as backward as mine had been. Needless to say, I was not overjoyed to meet them.

I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror carefully inspecting myself. I needed to dress the part for my visitors’ arrival. As a succubus queen, I intended to portray power and lust. Two things no man could ignore. My dress was constructed from a sheer, golden fabric that was held together at my shoulders by a series of small black pearls. It cascaded down my body in two small panels just big enough to cover most of my breasts but still allowed a shadow of my nipples to show. An intricately beaded belt was slung low on my hips, below which the dress fell to the floor in a single sweep of fabric. I looked very much like the succubus I was. The pearls at my shoulders formed small caps that clinked lightly when I walked. It felt like armor, all the while looking like a trick.

My biceps were adorned by three blood-red bands, a clear showing to the other royals of my skill on the battlefield. Most of them had never seen action in real life. Most had been handed a crown because they had been born to the right parents. I had earned my place spilling the blood of men like them.

The most important item on my body was the small golden circlet that graced my brow. I refused to wear something so ostentatious as the disgrace worn by Shaytan’s previous ruler. His head now swayed on a pike on the main bridge leading to the palace, along with the other nobility that refused to free their slaves. The monstrosity he wore had already been melted down to create my circlet. That didn’t mean I wasn’t one for dramatics. My thighs were encircled with diamond garters that held two forearm-length daggers. My plaited hair had gold, diamond, and ruby beads woven into it. I appeared much like any other deadly creature — stunning enough to draw you in without realizing the danger.

I knew the envoys would be composed mostly of princes or the kings themselves. Whether they openly presented themselves as such was another matter entirely. I’d learned much about their kingdoms during my preparation to seize control of the demon’s territory. Going into a coup of a kingdom as extensive as Shaytan would have been a suicide mission without adequate knowledge of everything that went into keeping the people inside the borders alive, and more importantly — free. Besides, I had ample time to prepare.

From whispers in the castle, I’d heard the other rulers weren’t pleased a woman now sat on the throne, and they certainly weren’t happy I’d freed all the slaves in Shaytan. They knew well enough that single act could cause rebellion in their own kingdoms. I hoped it did. And maybe one day, if their people didn’t do it on their own, I’d give them a hand. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what bothered the kings more, but I had a sneaking suspicion it was the lack of cock between my legs that was most unsettling.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the chamber around me, and I knew who it was without having to look. Malachi — my top general and closest friend. He’d been with me since the beginning. As an elite assassin in the former king’s army, he’d surprised me when he drunkenly confessed he didn’t agree with the slave trade either. Many in the king’s army didn’t. In fact, it appeared that only the nobility in Shaytan had wanted the practice to continue. I needed help, and he needed a push.

I glanced over as he moved into the room. He walked with the grace of a man who knew the best ways to kill you, and it had always stirred my succubus. It didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous. At a little over seven feet, he was the tallest male I knew. He had muscles for days and large bat-like wings topped with wickedly sharp talons. His dark olive skin tone always made me think of summer days, and that one time we’d gone skinny dipping before we’d started our army. His honey-colored eyes warmed as he looked me over, and I licked my lips, his gaze tracking the motion like a predator stalking its prey. Large horns flowed seamlessly from his hairline and curved down toward his ears before arching back up into deadly points. His hair was tied back in a messy bun, making my fingers itch to pull the strands loose. He always looked better when he was a little messy.

“Ashera.” His low timbre had heat pooling between my legs. “Not covered in blood, I see.”

“Mal,” I responded with a smile. He grinned back at me as he took me in again, arching a dark brow as he examined my outfit. “I didn’t have time this morning.”

“So you’re going to try to kill them?”

I laughed, smoothing out my dress. “What makes you say that?” I glanced at myself again in the mirror. “This is perfectly acceptable for a succubus queen.”

I didn’t miss the eye roll. “For a succubus, I swear…” Mal chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t let them rattle you.”

I searched his gaze before I nodded. “I won’t.”

“Good. I’ll be monitoring who is coming and going.” Mal nodded his head and turned to leave, stopping at the doorway. “Are you keeping your glamor up?”

I shrugged. “For now. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” The glamor he was referring to hid my wings and horns — signs of a truly powerful succubus. I preferred to keep any signs that I might be different under wraps and use that to my advantage.

Mal pressed his lips together tightly, and walked out the door, muttering about blood flow to different body parts regardless of the glamor. He was older than me, but not by much — 450 years to my 325. But sometimes he acted as though it was a millennium.

I sighed. Mal had always kept our relationship distant and friendly, much to my annoyance. But it felt good to know that he had my back today. I knew, without a doubt, that he would kill anyone who dared hurt me. He certainly wouldn’t allow any of the envoys to try anything stupid while they were here.

“My queen.” A servant entered my bedchamber, breaking me from my thoughts. She held her head high, and her eyes met mine. A flush of pride soared through me at the sight. Before me, before my rule, a servant would’ve been killed for merely lifting their gaze off the floor. “The first envoy is here.”

“I’ll be down shortly. Have them shown to the throne room.” She bowed her head in acknowledgment and left.

She was one of the many slaves I’d freed immediately upon gaining control of the kingdom. They had been given the choice to work under better conditions in the same job they’d had, paid of course, or find a new position that suited them better. Grateful, most of them remained in the castle. Thank the gods for that. Even growing up working at one of the small manor houses, I would have never known where to begin in taking care of an entire castle. I was better at delegating. Divvying up jobs, and making sure people were in the roles they were most successful at. In a few words, I was born to be a queen.

The kingdom still needed individuals to work, but I refused to allow any more slaves to wither away in chains. All because they were mortal. Dunya, our realm, functioned based on the separation of the two factions. On the one side were beings like me — the immortals. Fae, shifters, vampires, angels, witches, and demons. We all lived in our own separate kingdoms, and all used different kinds of the same magic. We could all perform basic magic as well as our own unique magic based on our species. And on the other side, you had the mortals — humans. The beings the immortals enslaved to do the dirty work they didn’t want to do themselves or the work they couldn’t do with magic.

I was disgusted by the thought. Just because my kind and those of the nobility and royalty of the other kingdoms could live for centuries without aging and humans could not did not mean mortals’ lives held less value. If anything, they lived life with far more passion than our kind could ever muster. Less time to live meant more desire to make each moment count. One day, when I had a moment or two to breathe, I hoped to experience that kind of passion in my own life.

I took one last look at myself in the mirror, a pleased grin spreading across my face. The envoys, all men, would see a partially naked woman on the throne. It was a big part of why I was keeping the glamor up — I wanted them to underestimate me. I wanted them to assume I’d merely slept my way to the front of the coup despite the bands on my arm. I would relish the looks on their faces when I proved just how wrong they were.

I walked through my palace, the usual contradiction of feelings rushing through me. The palace of Shaytan was beautiful, done up in the styles of the old world. But the memories of who built it — maintained it, were ones I’d like to forget.

The floors were a bright white marble, reflecting the smooth golden walls on their surface. All the doors were a rich wood — carved from the Forest of the Void that bordered our kingdom — and ornately carved with the history of Shaytan. Wood that had been carved by slaves — from wood hewn by slaves and depicting the history of slavery as something to be celebrated. They were next on my list to burn. Unlike most palaces, we had no ornaments on display. When our coup was successful, I had given those pieces of gold and silver to my men to do with as they pleased. Some brought them home to their mates as trophies. Others used them as target practice.

My footsteps were silent as I made my way to the throne room, my bare feet allowing me to move around the palace like a ghost. Demons typically needed skin-to-skin contact to receive or give power, which meant most of us walked around mostly fully clothed. Succubi and incubi in particular used touch to feed off sexual energy and restore our magical stores. We didn’t want anyone siphoning our power without permission. My outfit had a dual purpose — seduction and a blatant invitation to attempt to take my power. I’d like to see them fucking try.

I stopped in front of the throne room — this door depicting one of the old lords on the throne as a young slave placed a crown atop his head. Another servant stood just outside, proud and at attention. I turned to face the young man. “Do you know which envoy has arrived?” I asked.

“Masas, my queen.” He gave me a soft smile. Masas. I thought back to my research. From what I could remember, Masas was ruled by an ancient vampire — one of the first. Tomas, I believed his name was. I would expect him to go for the power, rather than the seduction. I straightened my shoulders. Let’s see this old vamp try to touch me.

My back was straight, and my head held high as my name was announced and the doors slowly opened. The new nobility I’d handpicked to help me lead this kingdom into a new era were stationed around the room. They bowed their heads as I entered. I tried telling them it wasn’t necessary, but it was of no use. Today, it worked to my advantage. My people respected me. I walked toward my throne, elegant and simple in the ornate room. I had burned the original throne, not wanting to sit in the same place as slaveholders. In front of my throne, back to me, stood Tomas. His black cloak was long and oddly simple. I had thought the vampires were lavish in their clothing. I kept my eyes forward, and sat on my throne, draping the pieces of my dress around me. Then I forced a sensual smile on my face and finally looked at the vampire waiting for my acknowledgment. I wouldn’t give it before I was ready. I needed Masas on my side because they ruled with both money and an iron fist.

I nearly choked. In front of me was not the decrepit, wrinkly creature I was expecting. Instead stood one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen. His skin was the purest ivory, like the first snowfall of winter. His black hair was thick and lush, curling softly around his neck and ears. He was easily over six feet tall, but his frame was heavily muscled. While not nearly as tall as Malachi, the vampire had just as many delicious muscles. I could feel myself wanting to drool, a familiar ache creeping between my legs. Focus, Ashera, focus. And then my gaze met his eyes.

A pair of blood-red, cold eyes stared back at me. There was no warmth in his gaze, and no sense of welcome radiated. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill me or eat me. Maybe both… The image of him feasting between my thighs, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth sharpened the ache between my legs.

I forced myself to remain in control. I hadn’t taken over a whole godsdamn kingdom of demons to be shaken by a vamp. “Where is Tomas?”

The vampire’s expression didn’t shift. “Tomas is too sickly to travel. He sent me in his place.”

I sighed, trying not to let the annoyance show on my face. A straight answer, was that really too much to ask for? “And you are?” My mask of cool, detached sensuality slipped with my desperation to know who this handsome stranger — staring at me with such hatred — was. The succubus in me was already stirring, that cold, hate-filled stare made me want to fuck the hate right out of him.

“Ambrose.” His voice was a low rumble, each syllable sending a shockwave of desire to my core. The Crown Prince of Masas. Obviously, it had been too long since my last fling. With the war going on, my desires had taken a backseat. Which was difficult for a succubus, as we thrived off touch and connection. Sex. My mouth watered as I imagined the rush of power that would flood my body with another’s release. What would a vampire feel like? I wanted to know. I needed to know…

I allowed my power to flood me, releasing pheromones into the room. All the unmated males leaned in. I knew the moment Ambrose felt my energy, watching the pupils of his red eyes dilate. But he didn’t move or allow himself to give in to the feelings I knew had to be coursing through his body. What the hell? He had shaken me, and while I wanted nothing more than to ride him on this very throne, I needed to regain some control.

I let my hands slide down my body as I leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with the arrogant vampire. His eyes flicked from my hands back to my eyes almost faster than I could track. A slow seductive smile curled my lips, and I flicked my tongue out to drag along my full bottom lip.

“Ambrose.” My voice was a husky purr, everything about me now meant to seduce. Tempt. Torture. I stood, making my way over to him with rolling hips and swaying limbs. “It’s certainly a pleasure to have you in my kingdom, and I’m so glad you provided your name.” I trailed my fingers down his chest as I stepped in close. “It would be a terrible shame if a nameless vampire were to go missing in my kingdom.”

* * *


When I’d heard a woman had staged a successful coup against the king of Shaytan, I’d laughed. I was sure the other princes and kings laughed as well. In my 400 plus years, a woman had never ruled — they’d never been powerful enough. Whoever was spreading rumors like that was bored out of their mind.

But then, to my shock and horror, the rumors turned out to be true. I needed to see her for myself. Surely, she had been a concubine who had gotten lucky enough to murder the former ruler in his sleep. She’d be weak and easily manipulated or overthrown. Either way, it would be a significant gain for Masas when I returned with the queen under my thumb.

My father was nearing the end of his exceptionally long life, thank the gods, and wanted nothing to do with the typical diplomatic envoy that was sent after a transfer of power. I could have sent trusted men in my stead, but I was too curious. I needed to go myself. It was possible I’d be able to drain the new queen dry while I fucked her, get a mild power boost from her blood, and then be on my way home. Not to kill though, no. It would be easier to rule through the queen.

I was sure the other kingdoms would be sending their kings or princes hidden within their envoys as well. I wasn’t the only one who would want to put an end to the queen’s rule before she’d even really begun. I would need to connect with Masas’s allies because it would be easier to kill her if one of us could get between her thighs. Preferably, me.

I’d already been on the road when word reached me that the new queen, Ashera, had freed all the slaves in Shaytan. What the hell was she thinking? My gaze had bounced to all the slaves traveling with me and my men. They were blood slaves, and we needed them for our power. We could feed off each other, or even other species — if we wanted a more powerful boost — but the act of giving and taking blood was something only done between trusted individuals or on the battlefield.

Disgust filled me at the thought of freeing our blood slaves — any of our slaves for that matter. How this queen thought she could keep an entire country running without the labor baffled me. Pathetic. Not only could this cause a widespread economic collapse, if word spread about her freed slaves, it could prove ruinous for the other kingdoms. There would be countless rebellions to quell.

We were shown to a large suite of rooms when we finally arrived at the Shaytan palace. I was surprised to see people still running the place. Had she really not freed her slaves? Upon closer examination, I discovered that they no longer wore the collar that symbolized their status. My eyes narrowed in thought. How the fuck had she gotten them to stay?

Not bothering to dress in accordance with my station to confuse the little queen, I donned a simple black cloak over my black slacks and shirt. I instructed my men to stay in the suite while I went to meet with the queen. No need for us all to suffer.

I was shown to the throne room and made to wait with the new nobility of Shaytan. While I’d never been particularly friendly with anyone from this kingdom, I knew a few faces from court. Most now lined the bridge into the palace, along with the former king and his consorts. Such a waste of blood. There were a few still here I recognized, so she hadn’t cleaned house entirely it seemed.

When her presence was finally announced, I turned my back, a clear display of disrespect. I made her wait for my full attention. Curiosity, however, won the day. When I saw her sitting upon her throne my breath stilled in my lungs, my cock hardened, and I felt a savage urge to mark that unblemished flesh with my fangs. I immediately hated her for the response she ripped out of my body.

And yet… I couldn’t tear my eyes away. She was a goddess in gold. Her garment — if you could even call it that — played to her succubus heritage, showing off supple curves, generous breasts, and smooth golden skin that seemed to shimmer against the fabric she wore. Her bright green eyes betrayed her surprise as she looked at me before they heated to reveal her hunger.

Gods be damned… My cock hardened further as we continued to gaze at one another.

“Where is Tomas?” Even her voice was seductive. Just hearing it made me want to see those lush, full lips wrapped around me as she sucked me dry.

I remained outwardly stoic, even as my mind rebelled, and desire weighed heavy in my veins. “Tomas is too sickly to travel. He sent me in his place.”

The sigh that left her lips had me biting back a smirk. She didn’t like that I hadn’t told her who I was. She didn’t like that Tomas wasn’t in attendance. Best of all, she had no idea who she was dealing with.

“And you are?” Your fucking master, little queen. She just didn’t know it yet.

“Ambrose.” I inhaled and the scent of her blood and arousal had my fangs dropping in my mouth. I wanted to sink my fangs into one of those lush thighs before I buried my tongue in her sweet pussy. I’d make her beg for release.

Suddenly, her power washed over me as she released pheromones into the room. Fuck me sideways. I forced myself to remain still as every instinct screamed to wrap my hand around her slender throat as I buried myself inside her, pinning her to the wall. Better yet, I’d take her in front of all these other assholes. It would certainly show them that she belonged to me.

Something fierce and feral rose within me, snarling and snapping to be unleashed. I’d never had quite this strong of a reaction to a woman before. It was possible I’d gone too long between fucks. Even other succubi had never had this sort of impact on me, but this little queen… I wanted to own her.

She drifted her hands down her body, bringing my attention to her full breasts and erect nipples before I dragged my gaze back to her face. That feral beast within me fought to surface, needing to bend her over my knee and redden her ass for teasing me.

“Ambrose.” Her voice was low and husky, making my cock twitch. She stood and made her way to me, her every step causing her hips and breasts to sway enticingly. “It’s certainly a pleasure to have you in my kingdom. I’m so glad you provided your name.” She trailed her fingers down my chest light as a whisper. “It would be a terrible shame if a nameless vampire were to go missing in my kingdom.”

I let a dark chuckle rumble through my chest. In a flash, I had my hand wrapped around the back of her neck, and I pulled her flush against me. I tightened my fingers possessively around her. I could feel everyone around us stiffen in shock, but it didn’t faze me. “It’s not wise to threaten me.”

The little queen’s eyes darkened with desire, but she didn’t pull away or fight my hold. She also didn’t attempt to siphon any of my power where our skin touched. She was either too weak to do so, or too cocky. Either was a mistake. “And it’s not wise to underestimate me.”

I could’ve been mistaken, but the little queen almost sounded amused. It was adorable, really. She stood before me in little more than scraps of cloth. And yet, despite the possessiveness of my grip, wasn’t trying to break my hold on her, and wasn’t attempting to pull any power from me. But I was underestimating her? I scoffed at the thought. No. I could read her far better than she realized. Which had me curious, hungry for the taste of her surrender as her luscious body writhed beneath me, my thick cock demanding nothing less than her absolute submission.

I was thinking too much with the wrong brain. I wanted this…queen — as she called herself — too much. I would have to keep my desires tightly in check to accomplish what I needed during my time here. I released my grip on her smooth, glowing skin, and once again turned my back on her. I was in control here, and I needed to make sure no one forgot that. I faced her ragtag court of what were once slaves. Now what were they? Free? Disgusting. Such a thing would never come to fruition in Masas. I would make sure of that. “Ashera.”

“Queen Ashera,” she corrected. The voice behind me was quiet but sure. Bolder than she let on. Strength rippled through the air between us. So the little queen’s come out to play.

I stole a quick glance over my shoulder. Ashera hadn’t moved, but her entire court seemed to hang on her every word. She had either actually earned their respect, or she was a bit of a loose cannon. I was going to assume the latter.

“Queen Ashera. Masas has sent me here as a delegate to meet the new ruler, and to also create a new treaty between our two great kingdoms.” I paused, and a few of her servants peeked up at me. I couldn’t believe her humans had the nerve to meet the gaze of a creature better than them. I sneered, letting my fangs drop into view and those few brave souls quickly looked back at the floor.

“I, too, am hoping to continue the relationship between our territories,” Ashera began. “But I have a request, in order to build this treaty.”

A request? This new queen, this woman with no royal blood, had a request? Did she not understand how these things worked? Annoyance flooded my veins, followed by a singular thought. I need to teach her some respect. I could see her now, tied up to my headboard, those luscious curves on display as I showed her what it meant to truly respect a prince. But I would humor her, for the time being. “And your request would be?”

* * *


It was official. Ambrose was a prick. My traitorous body wanted to do unspeakable things to him, but he was still 100% a prick. His visit was going to be hell, and my demands were not going to make it any easier on either of us. But they were not up for discussion. And Lord Ambrose of the Pricks still had his back to me.

That wouldn’t last long. I knew who was really in power here. Even as something ancient and long since forgotten inside of me was calling to him…I needed Masas on my side. They worked the mines, providing resources for our buildings and money for our banks. That didn’t mean I was going to make it simple for him.

“Free the slaves of Masas. Allow them to work for you for a fair wage. Give them the opportunity to build their own lives.”

Ambrose whipped back around to face me. “Absolutely not. Who will work the mines if not for the slaves?” If his gaze had been cold and unfeeling before, it was absolutely murderous now. Another man, frightened of change, and of a woman in power. Typical.

“You will free the slaves of Masas, or we will have no relationship to form a treaty around.” I should’ve zapped his power when I had the chance. Not because I needed it, but just to make him suffer. Prick.

Ambrose ran a large hand through his hair, making the carefully arranged curls stand up in awkward places. I liked him better this way. Messy. “Ashera. Queen Ashera. That will not happen. In fact, if you want to have a lasting relationship with Masas, then I recommend you reinstate the practice of human slavery. Immediately.”

A collective gasp sounded throughout the throne room, and immediately people began nervously whispering to each other. I held my hand up for silence, and the chatter quieted down. “Shaytan will never again own another human. Not now. Not ever.”

“Then you will fall. And your people will be forced back into slavery whether you like it or not.” Ambrose’s tone was frigid, and for a brief moment, I imagined it thawing as he slid inside me. He wouldn’t sound so cold and distant when I fed off him.

I lashed out with my fingers and wrapped them around the vampire prince’s cool wrist. “Clearly we need to have this discussion in private. I won’t have you upsetting my entire court.” My tone was harsh and reprimanding, as though I were talking to a child.

I dragged him out of the throne room to a small study nearby. He was still and seemed surprised that I could force him to move. Idiot. I’m stronger than I look. I quickly closed and locked the door behind us before whirling on him, not bothering to hide my wrath.

“If you so much as think to threaten my people again—”

“You’ll what?” Ambrose asked in a low, mocking tone as he herded me against the door, bracing both arms on either side of my body to box me in. “What will you do, little queen?”

My fury rose, and I needed to take a deep breath before I could answer him. “Don’t think I won’t fight with everything Shaytan has — everything I have to keep my people safe.”

“And what is it, exactly, that you have?” I wanted to rip the condescending smirk off his beautiful, annoying face.

I pushed him away from me and relished the look of surprise that quickly filtered across his face before he stalked me over to the table in the center of the room. His low growl was like a flick to my clit, and I clenched my thighs in response.

“Answer me, little queen,” he snarled.

I spread my lips in a condescending smile as I spoke two words that would always make men lose their godsdamn minds. “Make me.”

In a flash, he was behind me, slamming my front to the top of the table as his hand fisted in my hair. I stiffened, but the air around him didn’t feel hostile. It throbbed with heat. Besides, I knew that if I didn’t want this, hadn’t planned this, I would have him on his back before he could blink. I bit back a smirk, knowing I’d snapped the prick’s control.

“Wrong answer,” Ambrose growled against my ear before pulling back.

The sound of his hand meeting my ass registered mere seconds before I felt the hot sting of the slap and pleasure flooded me. With the way my dress fell, he didn’t even need to shift the panel at the back to gain access to the flesh there.

He struck again. This time on the other side, and I bit back a moan, trying to force my hips to remain still as he continued his assault. Ambrose tightened his fist in my hair as he fully moved the back panel of my dress and widened my legs. I shivered as my hips lifted with a mind of their own.

“Now you’re going to be a good little queen and tell me that you want my cock buried deep in this wet little pussy of yours.” His hand roughly massaged the flesh of my ass before his fingers skimmed the seam of my core. A small, breathy gasp forced its way past my lips.

I didn’t need to feed directly from him with all the sexual energy in the air, so I started pulling from that. I planned to save feasting on him for later. I wanted him to think he’d bested me. That he’d made the Queen of Shaytan his slut. I was well aware how to play a man and his body to get what I wanted. Just because I’d slaughtered all those who’d stood in my way in the past didn’t mean I had to. I planned to take a more… delicate approach to the other kingdoms. At least for the time being.

Ambrose pulled me up, so my back was flush against his chest. His magic swirled around my nipples, and I bit my lip at the sensation. He licked my neck before whispering in my ear. “Tell me, Ashera. You know you want me to own your pussy. I can smell how aroused you are.” He nibbled on my ear, and I shivered.

“Do it,” I bit out. My chest was slammed back against the table and Ambrose’s hand went back to my core. I widened my stance a little more and thrust my hips back against him.

He worked two fingers inside me and started to circle my clit with his thumb. I moaned at the pleasure building deep inside my core, and moved in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

“Good girl, ride my fingers.” I did as he demanded, working my hips against his slender digits as a third slipped in to join the others. “You’re so damn tight and wet, little queen. My cock might just ruin you.”

“Promise, promises,” I taunted.

A low snarl met my ears as he ripped his fingers away from me. The sound of rustling fabric followed before the blunt tip of his cock was nudging my opening. His magic never once left my nipples, continuing to tease me as he readied himself. The hand not buried in my hair roughly gripped my hips. We stayed that way, pausing as both of us sucked in deep lung-fulls of air before he slammed to the hilt inside me.

Gods. The sting was so good, and it had been too long. I cried out, long and loud, as he started to set a relentless pace, not giving my body time to adjust. Every few strokes, his hand would slap my ass and he’d release a feral sounding snarl when my pussy clamped around his cock in response.

Once again, he yanked me up by my hair, but this time he abandoned my golden locks. Sliding his hand down my body, Ambrose began pinching my nipples. He used his other hand to lift one of my legs, propping it on the table before attacking my clit. I rested my head against his shoulder as I allowed pleasure to rush through every nerve ending in my body.

“Who is your fucking master?” My eyes snapped open.

Did he just…?

“Who?” he ground out against my ear as his pace became more frantic.

Absolutely not. In a blink, I turned on him, and his gaze flashed with shock as I tackled him to the ground. I pinned his arms down on either side of his head as I slammed my hips down against his, forcing his cock deeper with this new angle.

“I don’t think you realize who is actually in charge here, Prince Ambrose.” Instead of setting a similar brutal pace, I rocked my hips slowly against his, dragging his cock out so he felt every inch of my pussy clenching around him.

He clenched his jaw as he glared up at me, his hips arching under me in an attempt to urge me to move faster. I kept my pace tortuously slow and reveled when his eyes practically rolled into the back of his head as I purposefully clenched around him.

I stopped moving my hips, leaving us flush against one another as I lowered my chest to his. I kept pulsing around his cock, and he let out a low groan. Nibbling lightly on his ear, I breathed, “Who is your master?”

He pushed me off him, the two of us panting and staring at one another before he pounced again. Ambrose closed his hand around my throat as he slammed my back into the wall. I distantly heard something — more than one something — smash on the floor. I lifted my legs and locked them around his hips as he slammed back into me.

“I’m going to fuck that attitude right out of you,” he snarled against my cheek. He kept his hand around my throat as he once again set a brutal pace.

“I’d love to see you try.” I turned my head and nipped at his ear. That only served to make him piston his hips faster, harder. “Is this the best you have?” I laughed quietly.

We were moving again, my back now pressed against the table, Ambrose standing above me. He tightened his hand around my throat as the sound of slick flesh slapping together filled the room. His gaze blazed with hunger, and the succubus in me rose at the sight. I was still feeding off the energy in the room, waiting for the right time to feed directly off him.

Ambrose moved his other hand back to my clit, and I felt my orgasm build inside me. “You’re going to drench my cock, little queen. We aren’t leaving here until you can’t walk for at least a week. The only thought on your mind will be how to get me to fuck you all over again. And then you’ll know exactly who you belong to.”

My pussy fluttered around him even though I chaffed at his words. “I belong to no one.”

He chuckled, the sound a caress against my aching nipples. “That’s where you’re wrong. You belong to me.”

Despite my ruffled feathers at his blatant possessiveness, I shattered. My scream as I came echoed around the room. Ambrose groaned as he continued to thrust deep inside me, moving my legs so they were up on his shoulders. The angle allowed his cock to slide even deeper inside me, prolonging my orgasm.

“Now let’s see if we can get you to scream my name, little queen,” he chuckled as he gripped my legs and continued to pound into me.

I bit my lip until I tasted the metallic tang of my blood. He was relentless. But two could play at this game. I released more pheromones into the air.

With a viciously feral snarl, Ambrose crawled onto the table over me, and his red gaze seemed to glow as the new angle allowed him to thrust harder. He slammed his hands down on the table on either side of my head, the wood groaning loudly on impact. I gripped his hair as I pulled him down for our lips to clash.

He was just as aggressive when he kissed. We battled for dominance with our lips, sucking, licking, nipping. He became more frenzied at the taste of my blood from when I’d bit my lip a moment ago. The table beneath us creaked loudly with each thrust.

“What the fuck is going on?” Malachi’s snarl broke us apart, but Ambrose didn’t bother to stop his thrusts as we both turned our heads to look at the two males now standing just inside the door. One was Malachi, and the other was a man I had never seen before — tall — between Ambrose and Malachi’s heights, blond, with thick, white wings, and stunning sapphire blue eyes. My hips tilted on their own, causing both of us to groan, which caused Malachi to snarl violently while the male at his side merely watched us with wide eyes.

“Would you care for a turn?” Ambrose taunted, his hips never missing a beat. “It seems that fucking the royal cunt is the best way to get what you want.”

My vision went red. Fucking the royal cunt is the best way to get what he wants, huh? I watched with a sense of sick joy as both Malachi and the other male stiffened, instantly knowing that Ambrose had said the wrong thing. Malachi’s growl increased in volume, while the other male’s wings fluttered, and a savage look marred his extremely handsome face.

I moved my hands from Ambrose’s hair to his throat as I spun us so fast he didn’t have a chance to react. Since we were plastered together, I started to hungrily and violently drain him. His eyes went wide as he felt me pull the magic and power from him at every point our bodies touched. I leaned down to lick his ear, feeling his cock jerk inside me.

“The royal cunt is hungry,” I whispered against him. “And you’re damn lucky there are witnesses here to prevent me from draining you dry.” With that, I extracted myself, readjusted my dress, and walked over to Malachi and the other male.

With a stunning smile that had the male blinking down at me, I asked, “And who is this?”

“Jacobi, King of Malak,” Malachi murmured, his eyes glued to Ambrose who remained on the table behind me. “If you’ll take him to the throne room, my queen, I’ll take care of the trash.”

When Malachi’s gaze met mine, I was surprised to find just how much rage there was in their depths. I studied him for a moment before turning back to Jacobi. “Of course.” I smiled again and led the angel king out of the room. The sound of flesh beating flesh rang out after us.


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