Page 141 of The Devil’s Lair

“I did it,” I say, a sudden rush of exhilaration shooting through me.

“You did.” His smile teems with pride. “How do you feel?”

“Like I shouldn’t have fought it so hard.”

He wraps an arm around my waist without jostling Isla. “You had to come to the right decision for you in your own time.”

Back at the house, he puts Isla to bed, then joins me in the living room. His arms encircle my waist, and he presses his forehead to mine.

“I’m proud of you.”

“I’m pretty proud of me, too.”

He takes a breath, like he’s steeling himself for something, then lets it out without saying a word.

“What’s on your mind?”

He leans back, eyes locking with mine. “It’s scary how well you know me.”

“Well, spit it out before I grow old and gray and you no longer find me attractive.”

“Never going to happen. I’ll still be chasing you around the house trying to cop a feel when I’m ninety, even though I’ll probably have a dodgy hip and poor eyesight and keep bumping into things.”

I laugh. “Can’t wait. Now, what did you want to say?”

He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, and my eyes go there. He has the most delicious mouth. And his tongue… the things he does with that tongue should be criminal.

“I’m glad your mind just went to sex because I wondered if…” He hesitates. “I want to take you to The Lair. It’s been such an important part of my life, but I recognize it’s not for everyone. No pressure at all from me, especially with what you went through there. It’ll be a private scene, just you and me, no one watching.”

My chest flutters, stomach bottoming out. I bite my lip, shivering from pleasure.

“It’s funny, because I talked to my therapist about that only last week, and she suggested I consider replacing the horrific memories with a good one. A memory made with you.”

He smiles, his eyes ghosting over my face, landing on my mouth. “I’ll make it a night to remember.”

Chapter Forty-Three

TOBIAS

I lead Rebecca into The Lair via the staff entrance, with memories of the last time we were here flooding my mind. My wife is a survivor, a warrior, an incredible person who suffered immeasurably at the hands of a monster yet has somehow emerged through the other side with her sanity intact.

We’ve both suffered terrible traumas, and together, with the help of our therapists, we’re slowly healing. It won’t happen overnight, but every day moves us a step closer to putting our pasts behind us even though we’re unlikely to ever forget the dreadful trauma we suffered. As my therapist tells me, though, living in the past with anger and hatred in our hearts is no way to live at all and as much as I hate to admit it, she’s right.

I’m gradually coming to terms with that. Not there yet, but I will be. Eventually.

A buzz of excitement skitters up my spine as I veer to the right and take the stairs to the first floor where the VIP suites are. I’ve missed this more than I realized, the idea of watching. Although these days, I’m far more interested in watching my wife rather than strangers. Who knows? Maybe one day, we can watch together.

Sliding a key card out of my wallet, I tap it to the door. The lock mechanism clicks and the door automatically opens inward. I gesture to Rebecca. The way her hands are clasped together tells me she’s nervous, though I’m confident that if she didn’t want to be here, she wouldn’t be.

She scans the room, gaze lingering on the king-sized, four-poster bed in the center, dressed in black silk sheets, restraints affixed to each post. Her eyes flare, and she turns to me, fear flickering in her deep-blue irises.

“We won’t be using them.”

Her shoulders lift, her chest expanding on an inhale. “Thank goodness. I couldn’t. Not even with you.”

“I would never expect you to. You have the agency here, Wren.” I bring her hand to my lips. “I want this to be sensual and exciting, but if at any moment you’re uncomfortable, we stop and go home.”

“No.” Her voice is firm. “I want to. I just… need you to lead.”