Page 109 of The Demon Crown

He hadn’t thought... Well. How could he think at all when she was on her knees, staring up at him with hollowed cheeks and a moan vibrating her throat?

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he steered his body toward the back room where they kept the food.

“It does seem like you’ve been doing that, yes.” His brother’s amused tone did not amuse him.

Greed spun around, his tongue already sharpening to lash out at his brother, only to realize that Gluttony was eating with both Ivo and Morag. The three of them blinked at him, not tired at all, and his hackles rose.

“What are all of you doing here?” he grumbled, grabbing for the nearest item of food, which happened to be a rather large head of lettuce.

“Greed,” Ivo said, his voice pitched low, as though he didn’t want to startle the confused demon in front of him. “Perhaps you should put that down and maybe have a glass of water.”

“I’ve had water.”

Gluttony snorted into his cup as he lifted it. “Clearly you haven’t been drinking anything other than what comes from between your lady’s legs.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before all the idiots burst into riotous laughter. Their entire bodies shook, the table squeaked against the floor, and he thought Morag was going to break the cup in her hand. None of them had any food, and he could smell the alcohol in the air, so he supposed he couldn’t blame them for their laughter.

“Yes, yes,” he muttered, turning around to find actual food. “Laugh all you want. At least I’ve spent time between my lady’s legs, while the rest of you lot have been wallowing here.”

Morag snorted. “Maybe those two have. I’ve been busy myself.”

Since when? He hadn’t ever heard her say she had any interest in anyone.

Frowning, Greed grabbed a loaf of bread, jam, and thinly sliced meat before joining them at the table in the center of the kitchen. “So these two sad saps are the only ones not finding their little death?”

Morag gave him a feral nod. “Indeed.”

“For once, you and I are the favored ones.” He grabbed Gluttony’s mug and clinked it with hers before draining the burning liquid inside.

They’d gotten into his barrels of whiskey, he realized. Those barrels were hard for anyone to find, so obviously his two most trusted guards had given him up.

Assholes.

Digging into his food, he ignored their ribbing as he tried to fuel his body once more. His stomach clenched at the scent of food and a wave of dizziness nearly unseated him. Greed wasn’t certain he even breathed as he dug into the meat and bread like an animal, not pausing until his stomach was finally satisfied and the shakes left his legs.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and gestured for a mug of his own. “The least you can do is give me a drink to get through your incessant chatter.”

“Incessant!” Gluttony repeated, but he slid over a clean mug that was brimming with whiskey. “It’s like you didn’t care if anyone knew you were fucking her into oblivion.”

“We weren’t gone that long,” he grumbled.

“Three days, actually. Three days the entire castle had to listen to the echoing sounds of your grunts, her moans, and a lot of—” Gluttony smacked his hands together over and over.

The two other idiots at the table dissolved into laughter once again. Ivo flopped down on the table, his cheek pressed against the cool wood as mirth shook through his massive frame. It took a while for them all to gather themselves, and for the burning in Greed’s cheeks to ease.

“All of you shut up,” he grumbled when they could all breathe. “At least you know I’m doing my job right.”

“Ah, and was it the job you wanted?” Gluttony’s grin hadn’t moved from his face. “You were the one saying you weren’t certain if you loved the girl just a week ago, brother. What changed?”

And all the mirth disappeared. Because realistically, nothing had changed. He was fighting against whatever emotion this was, but he also knew damn well that there was nothing he could do about it.

Greed wasn’t Lust. He hadn’t found the woman of his dreams and then fixed himself, or whatever it was that was the problem.

Jerking his chin at Ivo and Morag, he pointed them to the door. “Go on. There are better things for my guards to be doing.”

“Is there?” Morag asked, her brow raising. “We are supposed to watch over you.”

“And some conversations are for demon kings alone.” Then he pointedly stared at Ivo, who had yet to lift his head from the table. “And you’ve drunk your brother into a stupor. He needs sleep, Morag.”

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