Princess of Lust (For the Love of Evil) by Ann Mayburn Page B

Unfortunately, she was the cause of the majority of his problems.
    She followed the psychic threads of their link, going through the large formal sitting area, down a hallway, and finally reaching her library. At the entrance to the room, she paused and took a moment to admire Gregor. He sat looking off into the distance in his favorite padded leather chair, facing the paneled windows. While she feared heights, he seemed to enjoy being able to see the intricate quilt of her father’s kingdom spread before them.
    The deep auburn tones of his hair caught the light streaming through the window, and she longed to run her fingers through the rough silk. During his time in Hell, he’d been outdoors frequently and the slight tan to his skin seemed darker, especially in contrast to the unearthly pale tones of demons. Around his neck lay a gold collar made of links interspaced with dragon skin. A small swirling pattern of diamonds and sapphires made up the centerpiece of the choker. This, her personal mark, identified Gregor as belonging to her. Compared to some of the other collars she’d seen, it was simple but it suited her.
    Gregor tilted his head slightly to the side, his rough features catching the light and throwing his profile into deep shadows. “I missed you last night. Though I’m not surprised you went to him instead of me.”
    She flushed as the accusation hung in the air, his jealousy surging through their link and hurting her heart. Leaning against the doorway, she crossed her arms over her chest and watched him carefully. “I wasn’t with Raum last night.”
    A small amount of tension went out of his shoulders. “Then you were with Eline.”
    “No.”
    He surged from the chair, knocking it over in his haste. Anger and disgust curled his handsome features as he gripped his hands into fists at his sides. “Another! How many men do you plan—?”
    “Enough!” The word exploded from her, carrying a hint of the demonic power that still slept in her soul. It echoed through the room as if she’d screamed inside of a rock cavern. Taking a deep breath, she said in a much softer tone, “I wasn’t with another man.”
    Gregor took a step forward, then another as his nostrils flared. Finally, he stood right next to her and placed his face against the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent. His voice came out in a grating rumble next to her skin as he said, “I don’t smell either of them on you. The scent is almost…sweet.”
    She stepped past him into the library and started to straighten the chair he’d turned over. Before she could do more than touch it, he was at her side and lifting it for her. Without another word, he took a seat in the chair and pulled her into his lap, pressing his face against her chest. “I missed you. Who was she?”
    “The Queen of the Succubi.”
    He laughed softly then harder, until she was glad he’d sat down or he would have fallen over with her in his arms. “Really? Next time can I watch?”
    Stiffening, she started to push away from him but he hauled her back onto his lap, his lips and teeth finding her nipples through the silk of her gown with uncanny ease. She tried to focus through his nips, to ignore the growing hardness of his erection pressing against her bottom. “I—we need to discuss something. I need you to be serious. Please.”
    The amusement left his dark gaze like water pouring out of a glass. Weariness replaced it and her heart ached that she was the cause of it. He ran his thumb over her cheek and even now she shivered at the pleasure his touch brought. “I’m listening, my mistress.”
    There was no doubt about the bitterness of his tone but she forced herself to continue to hold his gaze. Now that she had him in front of her, she struggled for the right words to say. “I have done you a grave injustice, and I would like to apologize.”
    Gregor’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Go on.”
    She frowned at him, but continued in an even tone. “It has