We faced off.
“Finish that sentence,” I dared her.
She stuck her trembling chin up. “You can watch as…” Her voice had started out bold, but had died down to a whisper, and she would not finish the sentence. She would not even look me in the eyes.
I rammed my fist into the rock. Either my bones cracked, or the surface had.
She startled, her wide eyes coming to mine, before they rushed down to my hand, my knuckles busted and blood flowing freely. The air hitting my exposed flesh was nothing but an ember compared to the fire in my heart. The thought of her with another—I could not even think the word, or I would be going on a killing spree to locate these faceless shapes.
“See,” she barely got out. “That’s how I feel too. You’remine! And Ihatethat you were with all those women—I hate that you were with her!”
She would understand how the devil himself could not understand the hell I was in when she was not with me, only a figment of my imagination. Her missing love was a hunger so great, it almost starved my heart to death when I did not have it.
Her breath caught when I turned her to face the wall, using my knee to spread her legs. Her hands were splayed against the rock, her nails looking for something to claw, but her back arched for me, herculoin the air, nothing but a piece of flimsy material stopping me from getting to mine. Her hips rocked from side to side, and a low mewl came from her throat, raspy and wanton, and I had not even touched her yet.
When I popped the thin strip of fabric against herfica, she moaned and quaked.
“Tell me, who am I to you, Amora.”
She shook her head.
“Tell me.” I rolled my teeth over my lip, biting down, drawing blood. My wife’sficahad my cock under the most powerful fucking spell, and internally I raged with control—to keep the head of my cock poised at her entrance and not to bludgeon her with a wild thrust, hearing her cry out for more, begging for more.
She came back some, and when her opening touched my cock, she tried to come back all the way.
“Still,” I ordered.
Herculowas pointed up in the air, and herficawas swollen and pulsating for me already. The beat of my own pulse seemed to match the tempo of hers. Fuck. I spread her soft pink lips. She was wet. Her desire dripping and coating her thighs.
So fucking ready for my cock.
So fucking greedy for what belonged to her only.
I turned her to face me, and our eyes met through drifts of smoke.
“My,” she panted, “my husband.”
I lifted her in my arms, her arms around my neck, her legs locked around my waist, and when I entered her in a hard thrust, a garbled sound tore through her, and I stilled.
My head spun.
My lungs burned.
My heart pounded viciously against my ribs, as if it were fighting to break free of the prison. The bars that kept my heart from hers.
As the smoke cleared from my mind, I slid out of her slowly, thrusting back in, lifting her against the stone, her hair catching and attempting to hold on.
“You.”
Thrust.
“Are.”
Thrust.
“Every.”
Thrust.
