“I’m going to dream of this,” he promised.
Damn him, I would too.
Rearing back, Liam fisted his cock, pumped it viciously—once,twice—and tipped it down. Hot ropes of sticky seed shot over my bare chest.
I squirmed, trapped and unable to put it in my mouth. I didn’t realize until this moment how badly I wanted to swallow.
Breathing hard, Liam trailed a bare finger through the mess.
“I would clean you up.” His smile turned feral. “But you’re just too fecking pretty wearing my cum.”
With that, he rose. His gaze raked over my bare flesh, hungrily drinking in the sight of me. That thick, monster cock swung heavily between his legs. The masked devil might have just come all over me, but that didn’t make him go soft.
Despite myself, I preened at the knowledge. I didn’t let him see the effects of my inner sex goddess doing the happy dance. I scowled.
“Come to bed when you’re ready, Gabriella.”
I scoffed. “Maybe I’ll just sleep on the couch!”
Anger flashed in his stormy blue gaze, but Liam laughed darkly. “Try it. I’ve refilled the gas can.”
I let out a shocked gasp, which only made him smile. Whistling a tune, he sauntered away, zipping his erection back into his pants. Horny, enraged, a freaking mess, I laid on the ground for a few more heartbeats.
I’d been raised to think that sex was for procreation. It was supposed to be a natural act that produced a result.
Not something that provided this level of pleasure.
How wrong that supposition was!
This was how it should be. Carnal, messy, and hotter than any flame. Who knew being married to a beast would be so much fun? And how sad that other wives missed out on this intimate act by not exploring the possibilities of two bodies bound by a vow. If I didn’t have to leave, I would be the luckiest girl alive. But I was convinced my happily-ever-after didn’t involve staying the wife of the masked devil.
If only there was another way….
Chapter 26 – Gabriella
Curled up on the dining room chair with my breakfast dishes still in front of me, the crumbs a couple of hours old, I was jerked back into reality when my phone rang. I set the book down, realizing how stiff my muscles were. From the ankle to the toes, my left foot was numb.
As I answered the call from my old coworker, the pins and needles started to crackle to life.
“Hi, Sully! How’s it going?” I brushed my hair back, grimacing that it was due for a wash. If I sprayed dry shampoo, maybe I could put off a shower until I finished the book.
“Gabby?” It wasn’t the cook from Mama Ana’s.
“Ella, what it is?” I sat bolt upright. My foot tingled, but the sudden rush of adrenaline masked the nerve pain.
“I tried the other number last night,” my sister said in a hushed voice, panic lacing her words. “But it was disconnected. I’m so glad Sully had this number.”
“Ella!” I insisted. “What happened?”
My sister hiccupped. “Mama’s got a black eye. She told us she fell, but I saw Papa take her by the hair and drag her to their room last night.”
I sat back in my chair, dread filling my veins as I closed my eyes. Papa wasn’t being careful. I never saw him lay a hand on her. I heard things. Things no child should hear, but he was always too cautious to do it where one of us might catch him.
“I’m so sorry you saw that.”
“You knew,” Carmela accused.
“He’s been brutalizing her for years, yeah,” I sighed. “Don’t try to stop him. He’ll hurt you too.”
