Page 85 of Married to the Devil

“Can you blame me?”

“Not even a little.” I kiss her belly and move up, breathing in her smell, burying my face in her breasts.

“Shit,” she whispers, and I hear her heart racing wildly. “This isn’t going the way I planned.”

“What did you picture?”

“I wanted to tell you we could do this together. We could parent her together. Because… because I don’t… I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t hate you either, baby.” I kiss the tops of her breasts, nibbling up to her collarbone. “I don’t hate you at all.”

“Then you’ll do it? With me?”

“I will absolutely do it with you.” I pause at her neck. “Are we talking about the same thing?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then let me clarify.” I lift my head to bite her lower lip. “I will fuck you into a happy, messy submission. I will make you crawl on your knees to suck my big cock. I will make you scream my name, beg, choke, drool, spit, and come so hard you forget to breathe. I will shatter you like glass and build you back together again. Is that what you meant?”

“Uh,” she says, eyes wide. “Not really.”

I bury her mouth with mine. She doesn’t resist in the slightest as my tongue slides past her lips, her teeth, and I drink her down, tasting her and devouring her. She moans against me, arching her back as I tug her close.

Fuck, what is wrong with me? Giving in to my weakness now, of all times, when I have a traitor to catch, is a real fucking problem.

But I want her so badly it burns. It hurts, thinking about it. June underneath me, writhing, moaning, screaming my name as my cock tears her in half. June on all fours sucking my dick greedily, bouncing on top of me, tits shaking as she shudders and cries out. The taste of her, the smell of her.

God, it makes me so fucking hard.

But that’s not even what kills me.

No, it’s the idea of raising Hattie with her.

Of being a parent. Of becoming a real father.

And doing it by June’s side.

Our marriage was a tool at first. It was a way to drag June and Hattie into my orbit, to give them protection and legitimacy. It was an ugly compromise at best.

Now it’s the best mistake I’ve ever made.

I pull my mouth back, breathing hard as I stare into her eyes.

“I want more with you, June.”

She looks surprised. She tries to wriggle back but I grip her hair tight. “What do you mean⁠—“

I bury her mouth again, kissing hard. This time I flip open the button of her jeans. I slip a hand down the front, cupping her pussy, holding it possessively. Like I want her to know: this is mine, this is all mine, and it’s more than enough.

I tug her hair, making her cry out as I sink two fingers inside. She’s wet already, soaking against my palm. I groan as she tenses and trembles with the bliss of it, my fingers grinding in deep.

“I mean—“ I kiss her again, nibbling slow. “I mean I want you, June. I don’t hate you, not even a little bit. I never have.”

“Rafe…”

I bite her lip. She whimpers. “Don’t talk. Don’t say something you’ll regret. Only listen.”

She moans as I work my fingers, driving them in and back out, using my palm to graze over her slick clit.