To Hunt a Demon King (King and Coven, #1)

by Madeleine Eliot

“No one has ever found me as interesting as you seem to.” “Clearly, no one has been paying enough attention,” Hunt replied in a husky voice,

“This is going to become a lot more embarrassing for you if you keep wriggling,” he growled, hot breath skating over my ear as he held me pressed against him.

“Are you blushing?” he asked, laughing. “Regretting your suggestion that we play this game?” “Not at all,” I said firmly. “It’s your turn.” “Fine,” he said. “I’m fabulously wealthy and important.” “Now who's lying?” I asked irritably. Hunt laughed. “I swear it on the Horned God himself,” he replied, lifting a hand over his heart.

“I wasn’t annoyed that you picked me because I didn’t want to kiss you.” “You weren’t?” I breathed. I felt his lips turned up in a slight smile, still unbearably close to mine. “I was annoyed,” he said, “because I didn’t want the first time I kissed you to be in front of an audience.”

“Something about you makes me lose all capacity for rational thought.” “Because I make you so angry?” I pressed, leaning into him a little. “Because you make me want things I shouldn’t be wanting, Red,” he growled, sending a shiver up my spine.

“Don’t I smell like a horse?” I asked, suddenly worried. He chuckled against my neck. “You smell like a moonlit night,” he said,

“Like jasmine and sandalwood and vanilla,” he said, brushing his nose over mine.

“You are an unexpected surprise, Red,” he whispered. “And I’m not sure I deserve you.”

“Just to be clear,” Carnon said, voice husky as he gazed down at my breasts, which were heaving a little as my pulse kicked up at his stare. He ran a thumb over the stone, shifting his palm so he was cupping one breast. I gasped, clinging to his shirt as he passed his thumb over my nipple. “This is still mine,” he said, throat gravelly as he caressed me. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the necklace or me, but I honestly didn’t care at that moment. “But I’m entrusting it to you. You’ll keep it for me. Always.” I nodded, letting out a little moan as he stroked again. “Say it, Elara.” “Always,” I breathed,

“You are a constant surprise and delight,” he murmured, pressing kisses to my neck and shoulder as I begin to drift off, the feel of his arm around my waist a warm band of comfort. “And I hope you forgive me for what comes next.”

“Let them hear, Red,” he said, tilting my face up to his again. “I want the whole city to hear you scream my name. To know you’re mine.” My stomach flipped, and warmth pooled low as he brushed a kiss over my lips. This man would be the death of me.

“If all it takes to earn your forgiveness is one lick, Elara, then I beg you to let me apologize properly,” he said, voice promising sinful things.