Throne of Secrets (Prince of Sin #2)

Thirty-Six Adriana

T HE PRINCE’S SOFT , sinful words repeated in my mind, stunning me into silence.

If it wasn’t for the dull ache of pain radiating up from my knees, grounding me in the here and now, I’d swear I was in the throes of a terrible nightmare.

Surely I couldn’t be considering his punishment.

Or, worse yet, feeling slightly aroused by the idea of it.

When I told him I wouldn’t end up in his arms again, I meant it. The scoundrel had issued it as a challenge, and I had fully intended to win.

And yet, here I was, on my knees, completely, horridly aroused not a day later.

I was still shocked I hadn’t bitten his cursed thumb the second he’d slowly pushed it inside my mouth. He’d taken me by surprise, and I’d been caught up in the sensation and the way it had made my imagination run wild. Biting him had been the last thing on my mind.

When I closed my eyes, I’d envisioned his hand tangling in my hair, tugging my head back as I took him deeper, my tongue following the hard ridge of his cock. Before I’d known my stranger was really Axton, I’d fantasized about doing just that.

Horrified by my physical response, I wracked my brain for a solid reason for my depraved fascination. I didn’t harbor any secret desire for the prince; on the contrary, I couldn’t stand him.

It had to be a result of our stupid oath. And of course the fact that we hadn’t slept together.

If he’d bent me over the railing and given me several more orgasms, surely this wouldn’t be turning me on right now. That was it. A simple, reasonable explanation. My stranger had wound my hair around his fist and that was exactly what I’d just pictured the prince doing.

That my stranger was the prince was beside the point.

I exhaled a quiet breath, relief spreading through me. It wasn’t Axton’s dangerously low purr or wicked intentions; it was the vision of my masked stranger demanding those same dark acts that made me want to comply. It was the idea of being caught in his private study, on my knees, taking him down my throat, that turned me on. Replacing Axton with my stranger granted me leave to fully lean into my arousal, to sink into the fantasy without boundaries.

I’d liked it when he’d kicked my feet apart that first night, taking control.

I also liked the fear coursing through me now, the thrill of someone walking in, finding us engaged in a new type of war. I’d be the one on my knees, but that’s precisely where I’d take him once I was through with him.

Gods, I wished Axton’s identity was never revealed. I’d give anything to be with my stranger now. I closed my eyes, imagining it had been him pumping into my mouth, tasting like salt and sin as I swallowed him down.

It would be so easy to pretend I wasn’t in the prince’s private study, his castle filled with hopeful brides, as I unbuckled his belt, slid down his pants, and made him regret denying me.

“Adriana.”

Axton’s tone held a note of authority. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, a hint of yearning.

Had he been suffering from this madness since we last parted too?

The constant craving. The memories. The unquenchable desire. Part of me hoped he had. That he was as haunted, as disturbed and distracted too.

“Choose.”

Remaining on my knees until dawn was out of the question. I had to get out of this room and this temptation before I did something I’d regret.

My body thrummed with a need so powerful I ached. And it had nothing to do with the pain of kneeling on the stone floor before my wicked prince.

“You’re supposed to be finding a bride,” I said. “Not indulging in your sin.”

“You’re delaying the inevitable. Now choose.”

My attention swept around the room. It was papered in dark cobalt silk, the chairs made of supple leather, the desk strong and seductive like its owner.

I shook myself from my idiocy. Axton was a plague I needed to eradicate from my system. Immediately.

“Blood oath or not, I’m not going to submit to your depraved whims, Your Highness.”

“Your choice is to remain on your knees, then?”

“My choice is to carry on with my day, far from you and your debauchery. I already apologized about exploring the dungeons. What more do you want?”

The look he flashed my way had my pulse speeding and throbbing in all the right places. He looked like he very much wanted me to choose the first option, to sprawl across his knee.

“I’m debauched?” His mouth curved. “I’ve said nothing of this being a sinful bedroom game, Miss Saint Lucent. When I ordered you to your knees, you were thinking of my cock, while I was only after an apology. A charge you didn’t deny, by the way. Your thoughts slant toward naughty places all on their own; don’t blame me for your inner deviant. I simply aim to please.”

I mustered up my most haughty tone. “Let’s get this over with. I have an article to draft up and plans later.”

His hazel eyes sparkled devilishly. “Say the words, darling.”

“My choice is corporal punishment.” I gave him a saccharinely sweet smile. “Obviously, I need to satisfy my inner deviant. Shall I bend over the desk, or will the chair do?”

Gods, did I hate the male.

His knowing look called me on the fact that I didn’t consider this a punishment at all.

Axton shrugged out of his suit jacket, tossed it across the high-backed chair behind his desk, then slowly rolled his shirtsleeves up, watching me intently as his bronzed skin came into view.

He had plenty of lovers to tell him of his beauty. I was mostly intrigued with the power behind the corded muscles of those forearms, wondering what he did to earn that level of definition. He finished rolling his sleeves, then crossed his arms.

“Anyone might walk in on us,” he said.

My breath lodged in my throat.

“Then I suppose you’ll need to explain yourself if we’re caught.”

He was the picture of pure male arrogance as he gazed down on me. I was horrified to realize how wet I’d gotten between my legs. How painfully I ached with need.

I wanted his hands on me. And he knew it.

“Much as I hate to pass up this glorious opportunity to put you over my knee,” he said, not sounding at all sorry, “I’m afraid I must prepare for tomorrow’s event. Make sure you behave until then or else next time I won’t be merciful. You may rise.”

I bit the inside of my mouth so hard I nearly drew blood. I rose as gracefully as I could, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing my anger at his dismissal.

He gave me one more wolfish grin, then strode toward the door, pausing once he’d reached the threshold.

“I’ll have some items sent to your chambers to ensure you remain entertained there and don’t cause trouble between now and tomorrow’s grand event. You can punish yourself for as long as you desire, though fair warning: the toy you’ll probably choose as the best punishment was modeled after me.”

“Filthy, despicable bastard,” I muttered, brushing down my gown to avoid strangling him.

Dark laughter echoed from the corridor as he left, annoying me more.

Before it faded, I swore I heard him say, “You have no earthly idea, darling.”

To avoid running into Axton again before the first public suitors’ event in the morning, I called for a maid and asked for the next Miss Match column to be delivered to the Wicked Daily.

Mr. Gray had sent a missive earlier this morning, threatening to personally pick up the article if it wasn’t on his desk by noon. Apparently, the “Meet the Matches” special was another raging success for our paper.

Ryleigh had been inundated with reporting on all the gossip swirling around but managed to send a note my way, filling me in on early whispers of who the favorite suitor would be. Thus far, most had singled out Eden and Vanity based on my write-up.

A strange feeling twisted my stomach into knots. I wanted my sister to be a front-runner but struggled with what I’d do if she really won. Especially as my secret encounters with the rakish prince became more… complicated. I’d need to do a better job of avoiding him.

Which shouldn’t be hard if I spent all my spare time researching dragons.

I glanced around the shared sitting room. The little library caught my eye.

Several books looked to have been delivered sometime that morning, mostly mystery romance novels and adventure stories. But others, located near the top, which I reached by standing on a settee stacked with several pillows, looked promising.

The one I picked was an ancient-looking thing almost hidden on the upper shelf; its cracked leather binding had pages half dangling from where they’d been sewn to the spine.

It was about different creatures living in the Underworld and might help me narrow down what that giant crimson eye belonged to. It wasn’t a dragon—everyone knew their eyes were iridescent—but it could be some other lesser-known beast that lived in the north.

I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my sister’s place in the competition while it was going on, but I needed to satisfy my curiosity.

A fire blazed pleasantly in the hearth, the sitting room comfortable and cozy.

A few plush chairs were set up in different seating arrangements, some meant for hosting acquaintances for drinks, some for enjoying meals, and the one I sat in now was perfect for curling up to read.

Which I tried desperately to do, but my mind kept wandering, bouncing from the incident with Axton to the dungeon and my own muddled feelings. I’d sworn Prince Envy had looked nervous. It wasn’t an emotion I’d ever associated with any prince. That alone made me even more convinced something significant was happening, something they were all plotting.

It would sound mildly delusional, if Axton hadn’t tried so hard to divert my attention in his private study directly after. And, despite how much it pained me to admit it, he’d done a very good job at it. I had been completely focused on him, on his so-called punishment, and had stopped wondering about the red-eyed creature he’d locked away.

But what would scare a Prince of Sin? Better yet… what would scare more than one?

I’d read the same paragraph on winged hell boars over and over, mind spinning with theories, until a knock sounded at the door, and I finally set the book aside.

True to his word, the damned prince had indeed sent toys to my bedchamber, along with ribbons and chains. He’d tucked an instruction manual in, complete with pictures illustrating how I might tie myself up and pleasure myself with a riding crop at the same time.

A note scrawled in his hand offered a few suggestions if I needed “inspiration” on how to ride the beast.

I upturned the box into the trash bin, seething at him.

Arrogant, no-good demon. I ought to tie the ribbons around the toy like a present and send the damned thing back with a message for him to respectfully use it on himself.

How dare he continue his rakish behavior while courting seven hopeful ladies. I ought to rejoice at slipping that noose all those years ago.

There was no world where Gabriel Axton, the Prince of Gluttony, would ever be monogamous. Which was one more reason he was all wrong for my sister.

I snatched my book back up, determined to read, but gave up again once I had to reread the same sentence several times and still couldn’t retain anything. I was too on edge, too caged, to settle in and get lost in the history of hell beasts and their supposed start as hexed souls.

I paced around the private suite we’d been given, still in a dark mood. Just when I was certain I couldn’t despise the prince more, he’d gone and proven me wrong once again.

On your knees.

His voice had been a silken purr despite the steely command. I highly doubted I was the only one who’d assume that tone indicated he had more than an apology on his mind.

Another knock interrupted me from thinking any further deviant thoughts.

A footman greeted me warmly. “I’m to escort you to dinner.”

I hid my scowl. It was a polite way to let me know His Highness wasn’t leaving me unattended. With a smile that promised retribution to my nemesis, I followed the footman into the corridor. If I didn’t visit the apothecary soon and pay for some hex to—

I halted.

“Gods below. That’s it!”

The footman turned, a crease forming in his brow. “Pardon?”

My pulse raced so hard I nearly took off sprinting. I was right on both counts.

“Miss?”

I blinked at the servant, trying to calm myself down and not give him any more reason to think I was behaving suspiciously.

I fanned myself, knowing it wouldn’t be hard to make him think I’d become feverish.

“I’m dreadfully sorry,” I said, out of breath. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well.”

Before he could encourage me to follow him anyway, I darted back to my rooms, slamming the door as I leaned against it, my mouth curving in wicked delight.

Hexed objects. They were the only things aside from ice dragons that gave princes pause. When I ran into Envy in the dungeon earlier, I’d thought of his recent game. Of Ryleigh’s investigation that had led nowhere.

My intuition had picked up on the subtlety and I’d been too distracted by that crimson eye to sort through what had made me think of it.

I guaranteed, whatever was happening with the dragons, or whatever other darkness the princes were frightened of, had something to do with a hexed object.

Discovering which of the seven supposed objects was to blame was my new goal.

Ryleigh would be the best place to start since she’d done a decent amount of research on them, but she already thought I was wrong about the dragon attacks, and our friendship was suffering through a strange patch.

If I went to her now, she’d ask questions. Questions I didn’t want to answer just yet. But she wasn’t the only source of information about hexed objects.

I knew exactly where to find more information on them and still keep my secrets.

And it involved slipping out of the castle as soon as possible.