Phantasma (Wicked Games, #1)

by Kaylie Smith

“Go home,” the stranger advised. “A house of Devils is no place for an angel like you.”

“A heart and a key would set me free,” it said. “But you should hope we do not meet again, angel.”

didn’t, actually. I simply asked if you needed help.” “That’s quite misleading.”

“Though, I’m starting to suspect that keeping you out of trouble wouldn’t be an easy task.”

“I apologize if I gave you the impression that I do what I’m told.” His tone was anything but apologetic.

You are?” “Not interested in socializing,”

“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,” Blackwell echoed. “The audacity of men worth less than dirt.”

“What happened is that you’re incredibly impatient,” he answered flatly.

“Oh, bite me,” she deadpanned. His smirk grew wider. “Is that an invitation?”

Or do you only pop into places that you’re uninvited?”

“I brought you here for the romantic ambiance.”

Blackwell pulled the door shut behind them and then brought his mouth down to her ear to whisper a single, spine-tingling word. “Lust

“If either of you had a brain, you’d have realized that believing me when I said I wasn’t a Demon would have been a lot less risky than making me an enemy.”

“I don’t care if you’re already dead,” she hissed. “I’m going to kill you again.” “Is this your attempt at flirting, angel?” he choked out despite the pressure she was putting on his neck. Her lip curled up in disgust. “Both of my hands are wrapped around your throat!” “That doesn’t make it any clearer,” he

“Though, for the record, I’d like it to be known that I am personally rather fond of choking as the method of attack if you’re ever compelled to brawl with me again.”

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

“Well, it isn’t like he didn’t deserve it,” she muttered. “We’re on the same page, then,”

“I’ve had a lover,” she interrupted before he could jump to any conclusions. “But he never made me do that.” “Then he was useless and a waste of your time,”

“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’re so beautiful. It’s quite irritating.” “I know,” he said wryly.

“This is a version of you I can work with,”

Fall in love within Phantasma at your own risk.

“Clearly, I didn’t wear you out enough if you’re already awake,” he drawled.

“You learn to tolerate it,” he said. “Sort of like your personality?” she quipped.

chains… you wouldn’t happen to enjoy being choked, would you?” She spluttered a bit. “I⁠—” “I’m kidding, angel,” he snorted. “But if you ever get curious, I’m always game to try anything

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

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

She hadn’t liked the way the Devil had said his name. Like it was a name she had once screamed in the throes of an orgasm.

“Jealousy is a sexy color on you. Almost as sexy as blood.”

Death brings so much clarity.

“You let him kiss you.” He looked devastated.

“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.

“What moment is that?” she quipped back. “Your death? I’m sure the entirety of New Orleans has been waiting for this moment.”

“Let me stay with you tonight. Please.” She sniffed. “I always knew you’d be the one to beg first.”

“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.”

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.”

“I know,” she promised. “Especially considering I’m going to have to deal with your mouth for eternity. I don’t take that lightly.” “Please,” he drawled. “We both know how much you love my mouth.”