Phantasma (Wicked Games, #1)

by Kaylie Smith

“I want to know everything. I want to see all the darkest corners of your mind.” He tilted his face up to whisper his next words right into her ear. “I want to taste your sins.”

This kiss was not gentle or shy. It was all-consuming. Fire—the good kind—erupted

He gave her a wickedly roguish look. “Tasting.”

He was so deep she swore she could feel him in her soul.

Teaching her how to ride him perfectly.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” he growled as she shifted forward again, moving one of his hands between their bodies to rub his thumb over her clit. “Come for me again, angel.”

Fall in love within Phantasma at your own risk.

She’d never known anyone with such striking features as his, and something inside her was saddened that soon enough she wouldn’t know him any longer either. That one day she might forget how vibrant a green his eyes were. The way his smirk was slightly crooked on the left. The sound of her name on his lips. The way he called her angel. The way he kissed her and how she was positive no one else would ever be able to live up to that experience.

He winced. “Gabriel White is your father.”

“I offered him my bargain and he took it,” he confirmed. “I knew I recognized something in your essence when we first met here. Half of your essence comes from him and the life force he owed me is what’s currently sustaining me.”

Standing in the middle of her room, without a stitch of clothing, she chanted Blackwell’s name.

She balled her fists at her sides. “Fine. Then go away. I’ll take care of my own distraction.” He crossed his arms over his chest, amused. “Alright, then. Go ahead.” She wavered a bit. “I will as soon as you leave.” “And miss the show?” He smirked. “I think I’ll stay.”

For a moment, she forgot that she had an audience or where she was—there was only the ecstasy building in her core and the sound of her moans.

“Fuck.” Blackwell’s voice had turned husky, and she opened her eyes just enough to see him approaching the foot of the bed. “Why are you torturing me?” She only pumped faster in response. “Fuck, that’s it,” he grunted.

HOT

“I hate you,” she said, but it came out too breathless to be convincing. “Good,” he murmured. “Try and hold on to that while I do this. I adore a challenge.”

“Good girl, use me to fuck yourself,” he praised, his voice deepening with lust. “Faster.”

“I need a distraction, yes,” she admitted. And then, “But more than that—I want you. Even though I shouldn’t. You make me feel…”

“Good. Safe.” Her locket warmed, its pulse becoming more erratic with every word she confessed. “Not so alone. I want you.”

“Then you’ll have me,” he told her, and without preamble, he sheathed himself inside of her, all the way to the hilt.

“Ophelia,” he grunted. “Fuck, angel, I never want to be anywhere else but right here. Inside you.”

“I think you might be the closest to heaven I’ll ever get,” he whispered.

Ohmygawddddd

“Come for me,”

“I’m close,” she told him. “Good girl,” he encouraged. “Go all the way for me.”

Blackwell was the one to speak first. “I feel less alone with you, too.”

“But… we aren’t being careful. Everything that just happened… what was said… consider it the last time. We cannot become attached to each other. I cannot want you like this. You leave for an hour, and I’m craving your company. That’s not just foolish, it’s dangerous. And I cannot rely on you to save me from everything when in less than six days I will never see you again.”

Gurl shut upppppp

“You are apparently anything but forgettable.”

“Because I felt you the moment you stepped into Phantasma. It was an undeniable, magnetic pull that led me to finding you that first day. Yanking on that door, making conversation with a cat, dressed in blood.”

“I wanted to offer you my bargain then and there, but I knew I had to be patient. So, I made myself leave you, determined to give you space for the rest of the night—and then you found me. Because it seems that’s what we do. We find each other.”

But it’s you I am drawn to, Ophelia.

There are times that you’re afraid of yourself, but you’ll look a Devil right in the eye and insult them.

He huffed a laugh. “That’s not how things work, angel. Life is not measured in good or bad thoughts—it’s how you treat the world around you despite them.

“Is space still what you want?” he asked, roving his eyes from her crown to her toes as she dripped water onto the floor before him.

“No. I don’t want space,” she breathed. “I want anything but space.” Their collision was earth-shattering.

He gave a pleased grunt as he lashed his tongue over her swollen clit and pumped his hardness to the same rhythm of his licks across her sex.

He stood and she grasped his shirt, pulling his mouth back to hers, loving the taste of herself on his tongue.

She adored the way he always praised her when she did something he liked, the raspy little breaths that came out of his throat as he pumped into her mouth letting her know he was enjoying himself as much as she was.

“You’re doing such a good job,” he encouraged. “Eyes up for me, angel.”

She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth as he helped her rise, circling one arm around her waist while he reached around with the other to massage the back of her head where he had been tugging on her hair. She hummed in contentment as he pressed hot kisses over the base of her throat and behind her ear.

Their kisses turned sweet now, lingering, the connection between them strengthening with each thrust of his hips, each ragged breath.

“He gave up three years of his memories for this information.

“You were conceived here during that time.”

Andrea’s side of the bargain was to make your father forget the three of you existed so that your mother could leave him.

“He did mention he had a wife, once, and that he was here to win the Devil’s Grant to get her back, but he made it seem like she had died, not…”

For the first time in so long, she felt like a child standing there, not angry but disappointed at the realization that parents are fallible too.

“Not with him. He will never touch you again.”

“I can’t fucking stand the thought of him—of anyone—pleasuring you except me. I’d rather cease to exist than know you’ve looked at anyone else the way you look at me when I’m touching you.”

“I know this is a dangerous path. I know I should have enough self-control to just stay the fuck away, but you are the only thing that’s ever made me feel even a semblance of hope in this eternity of Hell.

The dream I’ve been looking for—the one to wake me up. The thought of wasting another second when I will lose you forever in only three days has ruined me. You are the closest thing I will ever get to experiencing heaven, and I’m not ready to let it go.”

“I need you to know that you are the only person who has ever made me feel like I am capable of anything,”

She wanted to beg the Devils, the Angels, the universe, to let her keep him for just a bit longer.