Page 44 of Dragonfly

Ragna mia.

My spider.

And, with Orion curled up in front of me because Damien brought him to me, I can’t help but feel a little less murderous toward my ‘husband’...

I sleep through the entire night like a baby, and when I wake up and feel a body behind me, for the first time in years, I don’t feel my stomach sink.

Worse, my heart flutters—and what the fuck is that about?

The twin is not big enough for all three of us, just like I thought. Orion is gone, and I’m scooted all the way toward the edge. Damien is still right there, though, spooning me. One arm is thrown over my waist, the other tucked under my head.

Oh my God. I’ve been using Damien Libellula’s arm for a pillow.

Slowly, I try to sneak out from his embrace. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I can get away before he wakes up…

“Your cat is sleeping on my bed.”

My eyes close for a moment. Damn it. “Huh?”

“Your cat, wife. He’s curled up on my bed.”

Part of me wants to tell Damien ‘I told you so’. The king-sized bed is massive. Orion’s probably never seen anything like it, and once he got booted from the cot, he probably was like: score.

But then I remember how he made it a point to say that he’d never allow Orion up there.

Uh-oh. I pull myself into a sitting position, ready to scold Orion and shove his rump onto the floor if I can reach him. Only, before I can, Damien moves, too, and I barely notice until he’s suddenly gripping my chin, turning my face so that he can kiss me—which is exactly what he does.

Things like morning breath and I hate him and what does he think he’s doing all rush through my mind… but that doesn’t stop me from kissing him back, does it?

I do break the kiss first, though. I have a little pride, I guess, though not much because all it takes is the tiniest of winks from Damien before I’m wondering if it would really be so bad to take advantage of this situation while I can.

A kiss can’t hurt. I might even be able to make this work. If he wants to kiss me, sooner or later, he might forget what I’m capable of and…

And…

“What the hell was that?”

“Another expectation, my dear. My wife will kiss me when we wake up in the morning, and before we go to bed at night. It’s the least you can do for me looking the other way as Orion sheds all over my Egyptian cotton sheets.”

But why?

And I don’t just mean the kiss, either.

Why—

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

Being nice to me. To my cat. Treating me like I really am your wife… “You know.”

“Maybe I do.” He runs his finger along the edge of my jaw. “And maybe, when you answer my questions, I’ll answer yours.”

Before I can think of a way to respond to that, Damien is out of my bed and halfway to his closet. Shifting my weight on the cot so that I don’t disturb Orion, I watch as he steps inside of the walk-in, returning in a moment with another one of the suits he wears daily on a hanger including the dress shirt, with a fresh pile of his underclothes—tank, underwear, dress socks—tucked under his arm.

Something must be wrong with me because I don’t notice that he stripped down to his boxer briefs until I watch his sculpted back and his tight ass pass in front of me before he heads into the bathroom.

I blink. Did he… did he sleep behind me in his underwear and I had no idea? I guess that makes sense. When I think of Damien Libellula, I think of the styled hair, the charming smile, the tanned skin, and the suit. He’s still human, though. Despite his immaculate appearance when he’s out and about, why the hell would he sleep in a suit?

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