Phantasma (Wicked Games, #1)

by Kaylie Smith

“That, and what I’m able to do with my hands,” he taunted,

“Angel, you have not seen even a modicum of what I am capable of,” he told her, his green eyes flickering down her figure with an emotion she couldn’t quite catch

“Call her a name one more time,” he threatened, his tone bored but his

eyes alight with mischief. “I dare you.”

Cade gawked at the sight of Blackwell’s tall frame, but his expression quickly soured as he spat, “Incredible, even Demons have whores⁠—” Blackwell grabbed Cade’s wrist and twisted his arm until he screeched in agony. “Incredible,”...

She buried her face into the crook of his throat. “You came.” “You called,” he answered.

“I want you to let me see you.”

“All of you. There is nothing I have seen yet that has made me look away. No atrocity you could commit to make me not want you like this. No matter how forbidden.” He seared a kiss into the sensitive spot at the end of his trail. “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.”

“You can do anything you want, angel,” he inserted, voice gruff. “I’d let you drag me to the depths of Hell right now if that would please you.”

“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…” She could feel the planes of his body tense behind her as he cautiously prompted, “I make you 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.

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

“Sin?” he practically snarled.

“Have we not learned our lesson about listening to Sin yet?”

We find each other.”

“Your parents fell in love during Phantasma,” he said cheerily.

“You were conceived here during that time.”

“Rumor has it that the curse made your mother—Tessie, right?—become more apathetic toward your father with every passing day, but your father became

more dangerously obsessive with her at the same 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. But the curse that Phantasma had inflicted on your parents unfortunately also affected the bargain your mother made with Andrea. Over time, the curse eroded Andrea’s

magic and your father began to remember. Curses are corrosive little suckers like that.”

“A friend?” He lifted a brow. “Do you fuck all your friends like you’ve fucked me? But you’re right—a child you are not. Naïve, however…” “Go to fucking Hell,” she spat.

“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.”

“In a different life, in a fair one, I would’ve kept you until my eternal soul withered away to dust,” he vowed to her.

The thing was, she didn’t need Blackwell to always be her savior, but it was beginning to dawn on her that he had become

her safe haven—someone

“He will always come to me,” she whispered. “We find each other every time. And you cannot stand that, because it means I’m no longer alone with you.”

“Now, beg,”

“Not even close,” he growled. “I’m going to devour your pussy and drink every sweet drop you give me. Then I’m going to fuck you until the only thing you can think or speak is my name. I’m

going to make sure I bury myself so deep inside of you that neither of us will be able to tell where I end and you begin.”

“I never want another soul to touch you like this. Only me.”

“I will fuck you until you tell me you can’t remember a single other lover’s name.”

“Until you can’t remember you...

“Until nothing else exists...

“...

“In all the darkness, in all the loneliness, you have been

my one source of light,” he lamented as she began to come undone. “My soul will go to its grave with your name echoing in my mind.”

“You would follow me here and then end up having a more fun time than me.”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll fucking kill you,” Blackwell threatened. Ophelia was ashamed that all she could think of in this moment was that Blackwell had been right before—jealousy was a sexy color.

“Firstly, let me reintroduce myself.” He dipped his head in a formal bow. “My name is Salemaestrus Erasmus Blackwell,

Prince of the Devils. But you, angel, may call me Salem.”