Page 13 of Wicked Prince of Carnage
For the love of gods,no. “Of course.”
“And what would you do if your oral skills weren’t enough to make me cum?”
“We would fuck,” she said, forcing herself to sound breathy, aroused when she really wanted to say she would bite it off.
“I think you can get more detailed than that,” he said. “I am your prince after all.”
If she truly had to fuck him to get out of this situation, she didn’t know if she could keep the charade up. Perhaps if he got off quickly and left her alone after, she could easily slide under the radar again to hunt him down.
“Once I ripped off your clothing, you’d sit on my settee. I’d straddle you, sink down on your huge cock while you sucked my hard nipples. I would ride you better than any harlot ever has.”
“Mmm,” he mused. “Stand up, human, but keep your eyes down.”
Sterling slowly pushed up from the floor, doing as he asked, keeping her eyes trained on the floor.
“Lying to royalty is an offense, you know.” Winter chuckled darkly, then ran a finger down her cheek, over her scar. She flinched but didn’t look up. “If you really wanted my cock, this wouldn’t be your reaction.” His finger hooked under her chin and forced her face up, her eyes snapping to his. “Did you think I didn’t recognize you? That I forgot about the girl who I allowed to run off with her brother and newly marred face? You should’ve left things alone. Disappeared like I told you to. But you just couldn’t help yourself, could you,Red Riding Hood?”
Sterling’s heart thundered against her rib cage, and she leapt backward, away from him. Heknew. Not only that they’d met before, but her secret.
Winter brought his other hand out from behind his back, presenting her red cloak clutched in his fist. Slowly, he let the material slip to the floor, pooling between them in a heap.
There were no lies she could spew at that moment—he wouldn’t believe them anyway.
“I love a good hunt just as much as you do.” He grinned. “So I’ll give you a fifteen-second head start.” When she simply stared at him in shock, he added, “If I were you, I’d run.”
CHAPTER SIX
WINTER
Winter’s brow rose as Sterling’s gaze held his, her face red with fury. Her lips parted, most likely to call him a bastard, but she seemed to think better of it. She whirled around and darted away from him with practiced agility.
The front door slammed against the wall as Sterling took off into broad daylight. Winter chuckled to himself and scooped the red cloak off the floor. When he caught her, she would be paraded through town wearing it so everyone would see his prize.
Red Riding Hood.The infamous huntress, killer of wolves—though Winter should thank her for a few of them. A couple of the bastards were pains in his ass, but she would still answer for her actions. The only one allowed to murder his fellow wolves was him—and his father, though with any luck, the king would soon die of infection.
What he hadn’t expected was that Red Riding Hood was the same girl he’d set free years ago. He should’ve expected her hatred to grow, for it to twist into something more. But with how many humans hated the wolves and how the hunters had been around for centuries, he hadn’t worried about her poor archery skills. It had never crossed his mind that she would’ve become a great huntress, especially not without her grandmother around to show her the ropes. He was foolish for helping her then. Even more so now for not having murdered her outright. Still, any compassion he might’ve felt for her before was gone the moment he discovered she was Red Riding Hood.
Dragging in a deep breath, Winter committed Sterling’s scent to memory. The apple was mixed with the heady scent of her arousal. He wondered what she would’ve looked like asshe came, what her moans would’ve sounded like if he hadn’t interrupted her private moment. It had been far too enjoyable to toy with her though, to rip away the orgasm she was about to have and embarrass her before revealing that he knew who shetrulywas.
He folded the cloak, the thin fabric easy to condense into a tight square and tuck inside his tunic. With slow, purposeful movements, Winter stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
A chicken squawked at the sight of him and raced off to the other side of the small yard. Villagers had made it back to this part of town now, their somber moods palpable. An older couple glanced over and rushed inside their measly home across the road. A quick sniff of the air confirmed Sterling had gone right.
Winter instead turned left and whistled, the song deep and slow, as he meandered back the way he’d come. Away from Sterling and toward something more important—leverage.
Soon, the houses turned to shops and he was back in the main marketplace, only a few turns away from the town square where the wolves still hung in warning.
Humans avoided the prince, and he waved to a young girl who peeked at him from a shop window, which sent her tumbling backward. He chuckled to himself as she screamed for her mother.
Behind him, Winter saw hints of his pack members slinking through alleys. Flashes of movement came from rooftops where Lijah and a few more wolves kept an aerial view. There was no chance he would lose Sterling. Even if he did, he knew who she was now and had an idea of what would motivate her. Knew where she lived, where she worked. She had a brother who wasn’t at home, which meant he was likely at their meat shop. She wouldn’t abandon all that and leave her entire life behind.
Red Riding Hood was a hunter with a vendetta.
And now, so was he.
Bael gave a sharp whistle, drawing Winter’s attention. The prince peeked up at the roof of the building across the street, and his packmate pointed to the meat shop two doors down.
Winter focused on the red door, a pig painted at its center, and edged closer to it. He paused with his hand on the knob, listening for a moment, his lips curling up at the edges.Perfect.
