Princes of Carnage (Pretty Ruthless Monsters, #1)

by Eva Ashwood

“Then it’s a good thing Atlas and Killian always have my back. Tell me, Quinn. Who has yours?”

“This is where you belong,” he says, sounding satisfied. “On your back for me, hair spread out, cheeks flushed. A perfect little slut who wants to get fucked so badly. You can run from me all you want, siren, but your body doesn’t lie. I know you’re desperate for this.”

“I can feel you trying to hold back,” he growls. “You don’t want to come for me?” He snorts. “Do you really think you have a choice about that? I can make you feel so fucking good, you’ll forget how much you hate me. You’re my wife, Quinn. What’s yours is mine, remember? Your orgasm belongs to me, and I fucking want it.”

“Hai il sapore del più dolce degli errori,” I say in Italian, the words falling from my lips unconsciously.

you taste like the sweetest mistakes

“No. I want to take you bare. I want to see my cum dripping out of this pretty pussy after I destroy it. After I show you who it belongs to.”

“Sarà molto interessante essere sposati con te, mia piccola e bellissima nemica.”

it will be very interesting being married to you. my little and beautiful enemy

“Sei così avida, mia cara.” He says something in Italian, laughing darkly. “Non preoccuparti. Ti darò quello che ti serve.”

you’re so greedy my dear. don’t worry i’ll give you what you need

“Because no matter how hard I try to block you out and focus on other shit,” Atlas continues, his voice hoarse, “there you are in my head. The way you laugh. The way you fight. The way you move through the world like you were born to fucking rule it. I should have a thousand things on my mind every day, but instead, I only have one. A woman with teal hair, a vicious right hook, and a smile that could stop my fucking heart.”

atlas

“You’re infuriating,” he rasps in a low voice. “And I still crave you.

atlas

“You’re not weak, siren,” I tell her. “I’ve watched you for months, and I know how strong you are.”

killian

“Sembri una dea, mia cara. Potresti tentare anche un monaco a peccare.”

you look like a goddess my dear. you could get a monk to sin

“Quid est flos dulcissimus in horto?” “Non flos, sed fructus,” I answer back, reciting the phrase I memorized.

“This is for even thinking I would want to fuck Zoey when there was a chance I could have you,” he whispers in my ear.

atlas