Page 101 of Twisted Devotion

I know what’s coming, and I know he has it under control. I trust him with my body, if not my heart. I trust him with my pain.

The stinging comes a second later. He bends away from me, digging his fingers in my ass and putting his tongue on my throbbing clit.

When he sucks it gently, he puts his other hand over my mouth.

Good thing. Because I am lost, and without that hand, my cries as the burning pain turns into a mind-bending orgasm would have brought in the whole house.

“Stop!” I whisper, my voice shaky.

He hears me—I know he does. But instead of pulling away, he ignores me, licking and sucking, stretching my ass, bringing me to orgasm again until I can’t breathe and my cries dissolve into tears.

When he finally pulls back and removes his fingers, I gulp for air, blinking up at the ceiling as he moves. A moment later, I hear water running. I don’t have the strength to sit up, but I manage to lift my head just as he returns, carrying two warm cloth towels.

“I’m fine,” I murmur, my voice still breathless.

He doesn’t argue. Instead, he lifts me effortlessly into his arms, carrying me to the couch.

I sink into the cushions as he kneels beside me, pressing a warm towel to my face, gently wiping away the tears I didn’t even realize were still there. The heat soothes, easing the raw edges left behind by emotion and sensation alike.

“I know you’re fine,” he says, his voice quiet. “But this is how you should be treated.”

His words settle deep in my chest, warming me from the inside out. He presses a towel on my sore nipples, careful and attentive, his touch reverent. Then he wipes between my legs. I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the warmth, into the care he gives so effortlessly when it’s just the two of us.

Why is Nicolas so hard on the world, yet so gentle with me?

24

NICOLAS

I secure my holster, adjusting the straps over my shoulders as I take one last look in the mirror. My reflection stares back—cold, unreadable, focused. Ready. I’ve been on operations far more dangerous than this, but today, something else weighs heavy in my chest.

I turn to my wife.

Aria stands in our bedroom doorway, arms wrapped around her stomach as if trying to hold herself together. Her eyes are wide, uncertain.

Even though she hasn’t asked for details, I know she already understands what’s happening.

I take a slow breath. “It’s time.”

Her lips press together, fingers tightening around the fabric of her dress. She nods once, but doesn’t move.

I step closer, closing the space between us. She tilts her head up, her eyes searching mine for something I don’t know how to give.

I’ve never had to reassure anyone that I’d come back. In my world, my men or I don’t expect to. That’s the life I’ve lived. The one I know.

But in Aria's eyes, I see she’s waiting for that assurance.

Her voice trembles when she finally speaks. “Promise me something.”

I cup her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek. I’m not used to it, but I’m willing to learn for her. “Anything.”

She swallows, takes a shaky breath. “Come home to me.”

I expected her to say something like this, but the words still hit me hard. A strange feeling spreads through my chest. She’s never let her guard down this much with me before, never admitted so openly that she wants me safe.

It gives me hope.

Hope that she cares for a man like me.

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