Page 62 of Married to the Devil

She shrugs and disappears to her bed.

Rafe lets me sit him down beside the tub. I busy myself gathering supplies. There’s a First Aid kit under the sink with bandages and alcohol swabs. I use those to clean out the worst of the cuts.

“The medics did this already,” he complains.

“Then they did a shitty job. You didn’t go to the hospital?”

“Not worth it.”

“Rafe—“

“I’m okay, June. I promise.”

I hesitate, touching his cheek. There’s so much blood all over him, but there’s no way it came from these cuts. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to scare you.”

“Just tell me.” I start the shower and toss his towel over the glass. “You need to clean yourself up.”

He grunts as he stands and begins to undress. I open my mouth to complain, to tell him to wait until I’m out of the room, but he starts talking too.

He tells me about the meeting with Theodora and the scared lawyer, about coming home, about the truck, the attack. He talks about his driver getting killed with the same tone he’d use to describe the temperature of a drink. He looks at his hands, at the ink on his knuckles.

“I’ll find who did it.” He says this last as he steps from his underwear. He stands before me, completely naked, skin covered in blood where it seeped through his shirt, his chest sticky with it, tacky over his dark tattoos. Over the ravens and the flaming hearts, the scars in his skin, stretched tight over gorgeous muscles. My mouth goes dry as I look down at him, at his thighs, at his cock⁠—

He steps into the shower.

And at the same moment, understanding hits me. It’s overwhelming at first. Dizzying, heady, bizarre, and terrifying.

This is real.

The danger is real. The guards are real. The cameras aren’t only to keep me in—they’re to keep me safe.

Someone wants my husband dead. And I think they want to hurt me, too.

I strip off my clothes in a rush. I’m not sure why I do it. Pure lust comes over his face as I pull open the door to the shower and step in. The rainwater head pours down his back and blood turns the floor tiles pink.

I drop to my knees in the watery blood and pull him to me. I kiss his belly, gripping his ass, holding him. His fingers dig into my shoulders. “June⁠—“

I kiss again, down his cock, down the length of him. I lick his tip as more blood runs in red rivers down his chest and arms. I lick and suck and he turns stiff and hard in my mouth. I whimper, not sure what the hell I’m doing, and not caring. I take him deep and he moans as I do it, his back leaning against the wall, his hips thrust out, one hand fisting into my hair.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers with a slight moan. “The paramedics said to take it easy.”

I don’t bother answering. I suck faster, stroking him, both hands working his massive shaft as I take as much of his tip into my mouth as I can. Spit rolls down, dripping, mixing with the blood. He groans and tilts toward the water, spraying more red around us. I suck harder, wanting him so badly it hurts, terrified of what might happen if I had lost him today.

If Hattie had lost her father.

I slip one hand between my legs and stroke myself. I’m shocked at how wet I am. I glide a finger inside then focus on my clit, grinding my fingers around it desperately.

“Fuck, look at you, all needy and wet for me. God, you’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth. You can barely take it. You’re struggling to suck me, baby, and you’re trying so fucking hard, I love it. You love being a slut for me, don’t you? Down on your knees like that, touching yourself? Oh fuck, I want you to come as you swallow me.”

I whimper, moaning, pleasure mounting as I stroke myself faster. I want him, want him, need him, I suck him sloppy and sticky, pausing only to pull back and gasp for breath. He bends down and kisses me, tongue wet between my lips, and I go back to working his dick. I’m spitty, stroking faster⁠—

“Baby, fuck, please,” he groans, the quavering edge in his tone like heaven and hell all in one. “I can’t last much longer with you doing that.”

I go faster, sucking wildly, rubbing my pussy, and feel it peaking.

“All the way, you dirty fucking girl.” He grips my hair and thrusts his cock into my throat. “Oh fuck, that’s it, that’s fucking it⁠—“