Envy (Dark Waters Book 1)

Chapter Twenty:

1873

Priscilla moved my hand to her chest, flattening hers against mine. Her mouth parted, and I heard the breath louder than my own. A deep sound filled with need, anxiousness, and desire.

Focusing on her eyes, I followed her as she entered the tub.

"Do I call you Envy?" she whispered. With her other hand, she pushed her gown off her shoulder. "Or Octavio? I want to learn who you are."

Sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, I hissed, fighting the pressure between my legs. This wasn't like the other victims who put themselves in front of me; those people were hand-picked by Pride, willingly giving their souls to the devil for a night of wild sex. Those men or women never knew what they agreed to. Sleeping with a demon wasn't a pastime. It meant death. Maybe not at that moment, but soon after. Their soul was ours the moment we kissed; we needed them to die to claim our prize.

Priscilla wasn't them. She wasn't looking at me with a need for a thrill or a risk of never returning to her mortality. There was a genuine desire, a mutual attraction; I felt the same, and there was no hiding this.

But I couldn't do this. I spent days keeping her alive. Sleeping with her would be worse.

She pushed at the other side of her gown, exposing both shoulders; bare, a beautiful sun-kissed brown, glowing in the candlelight. "Will you let me learn who you are?" she whispered.

I licked my lip, maintaining my focus on her alluring gaze. While I kept my mind from overly intrusive, inappropriate thoughts, my body had other plans. There was no hiding the bulge in my pants, throbbing painfully, wanting to be free. There was no silencing my heart hammering away in my chest. Even my blood burned, reacting to need.

I didn't need sex. I needed her.

My reasoning was losing this battle.

"I can tell you all you wish," I said, watching as she gently lifted my hand but didn't let go, "but we don't need to do it like this. Priscilla, you don't have to—fuck..."

Her gown fell, sliding down her voluptuous hips, sitting for a second as if stuck until she gently swayed to get the material to drop. She stood bare in front of me, glistening with nervous sweat. Or this wasn't nervousness; perhaps this was excitement.

"For days, I've looked in your eyes and seen a spirit that attracts me. Is that what Sins do?" She pulled her lip between her teeth. "Do you dazzle us?"

I took in a trembling breath. "Not you."

"Why?" Her head dipped to one side.

"Your soul," I closed my eyes to fight my gaze before it traveled to her breasts, "is immune to our sins. We cannot lure you in with simple immorality."

"So my attraction is real?" she whispered, pressing my hand lower. "You aren't making me feel this way?"

That wasn't my sin. I wasn't Lust. But there was the truth that each of us could inflict every sin because we were all a part of the Seven; we were united in a forsaken brotherhood.

"I am not," I opened my eyes and focused on her face, "but we cannot do this."

"Do you not want me?" She frowned. "Is there something wrong with me?"

No, there wasn't anything wrong. She was perfect, beautiful, and desirable in every way. There was something wrong with me. I was the problem.

"I did not say that. I simply, I-I," I couldn't tell her the truth. Words failed me.