Page 44 of The Devil

She shifts her gaze away and shakes her head. “You didn’t hurt me more than anyone would have. I’m just⁠—”

“First of all,” I cut her off because did she just fucking say that? “No one else will ever touch you because if they try, I will kill them.”

She looks up at me, clearly surprised by my tone. “It’s not like–”

“I will kill them. Understand?”

“Yeah. Fine. Don’t be crazy.”

I grit my teeth because she’s right, I am being crazy, but I feel very protective of her. Not to mention possessive. I have from that very first day she came walking into my office, still in her school uniform. Just strolled right into the devil’s lair and had no idea what she was getting into.

“Now tell me why you were crying,” I ask, very aware of the proximity of her pussy to my cock.

“It was just a lot, Jet. It’s all a lot.”

“Tell me what’s a lot. What are you doing in Scotland anyway? What secret are you keeping?”

She shifts her gaze from mine. Whatever she’s hiding, I need to know. But when she draws her fingers up over my stomach to my chest, my breath catches and my dick takes it as an invitation.

Amal shifts on my lap, glancing down at my cock, licking her lips when she shifts her gaze back to mine, then to my chest, to the scars and tattoos there. I hold my breath as she traces the lines of scar tissue and ink, touching them gently. Curiously.

“What secrets do you keep, Jet?” she asks, then leans closer, brushes her lips over mine to kiss me.

“You can’t distract me that easily,” I say against her mouth, my hands closing over her arms.

“No? I think I can.”

She kisses me again, a tentative, inexperienced kiss, and I find I like it. I like my seductive, innocent wife very much. She sets her hands on my shoulders and opens her eyes to look at me as she raises herself up a little, brings herself closer to rub her clit against the length of my cock.

“Fuck.” I groan out the word because it’s going to take all I have not to impale her here and now.

“Make me come, Jet,” she says.

I slide my hands to cup her ass, squeezing the soft flesh before shifting my grip to her hips to draw her up along my shaft, then down.

Her eyes darken and her lips part.

“You want me to make you come?”

She nods, hands clawing into my shoulders. She tilts her hips, trying to mount me.

I groan but stop her. “This is hard enough, Amal, but I don’t want to hurt you and if I fuck you again now, I will.”

“Maybe I want it to hurt,” she says against my lips. “Maybe I’ll like it.”

I tilt her chin up to look at her. She closes her eyes and tries to kiss me again, but I stop her. I want to see her face, her eyes.

“You want it to hurt?” Her cheeks flush red and her eyes dart away. “My dirty little virgin bride,” I start, kissing her hard while squeezing her ass, rubbing my cock against her clit until I hear her moan. “You are very distracting.”

She smiles, pleased.

I kiss her mouth, my tongue slipping inside to taste more of her. “I have a proposition for you.”

“What proposition?”

“You tell me what you’re doing here, and I’ll make you come so hard you will forget your own name.”

Her body stiffens, the shift instantaneous. She draws back to look at me.