Always Wicked by Ember Casey
This is my game. And she has no idea how far I’ll go to win the ultimate prize…her.
When Lily Frazer shows up at my family’s estate making demands, I can’t help myself. I have no intention of sharing my family’s secrets with her, but I also have no intention of letting this wild, passionate woman get away from me.
So I invite her to play.
To my pleasure, the enticing Lily is happy to play by my twisted, sexy rules. But as our games heat up, I soon discover that there’s more to this woman than I initially bargained for.
And I plan to have my sweet, satisfying victory…no matter what it takes.
Always Wicked is a twisted retelling of His Wicked Games, this time from the devilish Calder Cunningham’s point of view.
Excerpt Always Wicked by Ember Casey
Here’s a sneak peek inside Calder’s mind…
I heard something.
Of course, a house of this age has a tendency to make strange sounds now and again, but after a lifetime in these corridors I’ve come to know the usual suspects rather well. What I just heard was something else.
It came from the secret passage.
As that knowledge settles into me, it comes again—a soft, nearly imperceptible creee, like a sigh of wood. Like someone is leaning against the wall.
My blood quickens. As I explained to Lily earlier, my great-great-grandfather was an old-fashioned man, and like his aristocratic European forebears, believed that servants should not be seen unless absolutely necessary. One of those servants’ passages wraps around two walls of my bedroom.
But that’s not the only thing. During my great-great-grandfather’s time, it was often important for servants to be able to see into rooms—to anticipate the family’s needs, perhaps, or to avoid interrupting something important—which meant that, in a number of key places, my ancestor also installed what are effectively spy holes into the walls.
One set of spy holes looks directly into my bedroom.
If there’s someone there now, it can only be one of two people—and I highly doubt Martin is skulking about, hoping for a glimpse at me.
The passages connect to the room I gave Lily for the night. If my charming little houseguest decided to go snooping, it wouldn’t have taken much effort for her to find the hidden door that leads into the passage.
Naughty little minx…
I should feel shocked, perhaps even violated by the very thought that Lily is watching me now, of all times.
Instead, a warm, deep satisfaction curls in my belly, the hunger in me building to nearly unbearable levels.
You might just be imagining things, I tell myself. That soft groan of wood might have simply been the house settling under the storm. Perhaps I’m simply hearing what I want to hear. Perhaps the feeling of her gaze and the soft sound of her whimper are simply creations of my desire, twisted imaginings brought forth by the intensity of my need.
But I swear I can feel her gaze on me, hot and prickling across my skin, and whether the sensation is real or imagined, I don’t care.