Page 76 of Dragonfly

Did she… was that blood?

“Wife?” It comes out shaky because, holy shit, I’m about to combust. “Did you just cut me?”

“Yup.”

“On purpose?”

She snorts. “Please. I know you barely felt that. You took a blade to the gut and acted like we were discussing the fucking weather.”

She’s not wrong, but that’s only because I was stubborn enough to hide my pain. What she just did now, though… it didn’t hurt. Not really. Not after I got over the initial fiery feeling as she nicked my ear. But for her to use my knife to play with me, to lap at my blood the same way Orion laps at his water bowl?

“Tell me, my dear. Did I make a mistake in trusting you with that knife?”

Her weight shifts a little as Savannah lifts up, then scoots back, rubbing her pussy along my erection. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, babe. I just wanted your attention.”

“You certainly have it now.”

“Good. Because I just want to point out something.”

“Go right ahead.”

“The first time you had me on my knees, it’s because I was trying to get out of fucking you. You know that. I know that. But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about your taste a million times since then.”

I find it hard to swallow right now. No. Fuck swallowing. I can’t breathe. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm. And, well, since I have you pinned… I get to do what I want.”

And what Savannah wants to do is dip her hand beneath the waistband of my pants, pulling out my cock before she shimmies down my body, finding a spot for her in the cradle of my legs.

I don’t get up. Instead, folding my hand behind my head, not even caring that my ear stings from where she cut it, I let my beautiful bride worship me with her mouth.

Her face is buried in my crotch. As if she’s trying every trick she has to make me explode in her mouth, she devotes the next few moments to laving my cock with her tongue, playing with my balls, humming against my length as she sucks.

I want to hold out. To continue this unexpected moment as long as I can, but there’s a marked difference from the first blow job she gave me and this one. Instead of going through the motions, acting like a fucking fleshlight, Savannah is as into giving this oral as I am being on the receiving end. So I want to hold out, but before I know it, I’m running my fingers through the top of her hair, letting her know that I’m about to release.

She mumbles something around the head of my cock, and the vibration has me spurting right into her mouth.

Only after she swallows every drop of come I have to give her does she meet my gaze.

She looks so proud of herself, I have to assume she just told me to go ahead and give her my jizz. But there’s more to it than that, and I have to know.

“Why?” Usually it’s Savannah with the questions. But I just don’t understand why she would do that without me finding a way to get her to. She said she wanted, too, but… “Why, ragna mia?”

Savannah squeezes my hip before laying her hand over my spider tattoo—and my scar.

“Why? Because I guess I don’t hate you after all.”

It’s not the same as her telling me she loves me, but it’s a start.

TWENTY-SIX

NOKIA BRICK

SAVANNAH

It’s closing in on the end of May, spring getting ready to trade places with summer, and all I keep hearing about is Winter.

I didn’t realize how big of a problem this guy is. Most of that has to do with Damien trying to treat me like Genevieve, pretending as if he doesn’t deal in drugs, blood, and bullets. He wants us both to have this idealized version of him, not understanding that I learned more than my fair share about what he does during prison, then after I got out and made him my target.

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