Page 24 of Dragonfly

But not for long. When Damien clears his throat, my traitorous eyes move a few inches over until I can’t help but ogle his dick.

Why couldn’t he have, like, a mushroom down there? Why does it have to be a good-looking cock? Not too fat, the right length, and with just a hint of a curve that I know it would be magical to have that thing inside of me.

No. No.

I shake my head. “What if I don’t want to?”

He shrugs one shoulder, drawing attention to his wound this time. “I have sixteen stitches that tell me I don’t give a shit.”

“You might rip them open.”

Damien smirks. “That sure of yourself?”

It’s my turn to shrug.

His eyes darken just enough to match his mostly inky-black hair. That single silver streak… I’ve always wondered if it would be softer than the rest of his mane, but I doubted I’d ever get the chance to find out.

I won’t now, either.

He takes his dick in his hand, giving it one leisurely stroke. “Come here,” he repeats. “I won’t go to bed on my wedding night unsatisfied.”

Is that all?

I give my head a small shake, helping my hair fall behind my shoulder instead of in front of it. I don’t have a hairtie on my at the moment, but if you gotta do, what you gotta do…

Moving toward him until I’m about two feet away from, I lower myself to my knees. “You won’t have to.”

I shocked him. Something tells me that this was a test. He wanted to see if I’d just fall back on his bed, shuck off my jeans and panties, spread my legs wide open, and tell him to have at it.

I didn’t. I won’t. But if he’s so fucking insistent on being satisfied…

He arches one eyebrow at me, dipping his chin at the same time. “That you want to do?

Does it matter? I’m offering.

“You want to come, husband? I’ll let you have my hand or my mouth. Your choice. But that’s it. You’d have to force me to do anything else.”

I wait for him to tell me that, as his wife, it wouldn’t be force. Like marital rape isn’t a thing even when one partner wasn’t blackmailed into joining with the other. Surprisingly, he doesn’t.

“Then stay on your knees, Savannah, and open wide.”

Not Savannah, I think as I inch closer so enough that I can reach his bobbing erection. Or, really, I’m only Savannah because he made it impossible for me to be Georgia…

I lay my fingers along the side of his cock, watching so closely that I see his slight shudder upon contact.

If this is a test, I don’t know if I’m failing it or not, but there’s something about his reaction that has me double-checking that he’s about to let the woman who tried to kill him earlier tonight put her mouth on his most sensitive part.

In a husky voice that accentuates the draw, I ask him softly, “You really want me to do this?”

Damien’s own voice turns slightly throaty as he gestures at his erection. “What do you think?”

That hate sex with this man would probably be worth the regret tomorrow morning…

“Go on,” he urges, spreading his legs a little wider so that he can brace them.

“We’ve had a long day. If you want to go to bed with me and sleep, give me what you offered.”

I get it. I suck him off and he won’t molest in my sleep—tonight.

---