Page 6 of The Devil's Spawn

“I want elegant, classy,andseductive. What I don’t want is a standard costume party.” He lowered his voice, shifting his attention to Eve for a moment, but she was too busy building a humongous bubble castle in the tub to care about boring adult conversation. “You are the epitome of all three, and I know you can do this, even on such short notice.”

His confidence in me heated my belly in a way that wasn’t sexual for once. Sex drove our relationship to the extreme, which made these small moments of coexisting as husband and wife all the more special. “I’ll do my best. I mean, I do know your tastes pretty well. I was your personal assistant once upon a time.”

He raised a brow as if giving what I’d said consideration. “Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll clear my afternoon for you on Tuesday and Wednesday.” With a smile, he leaned down and scooped up a bubble, then smeared it on Eve’s nose. As she giggled and squealed, he took the opportunity to whisper in my ear. “But enough about work. After you tuck in Eve for the night, I want you downstairs on your knees. I laid something out for you.”

My full ass was a reminder of what was to come, and the happy vibe of a moment ago dissipated. The fact that he was going to do this in the basement filled me with even more dread. I didn’t know why the idea of anal terrified me so much. It wasn’t like we hadn’t done it before. In fact, he’d introduced anal sex within the first week of blackmailing me into being his.

But things had been different. Back theneverythingabout him had terrified me, and I hadn’t had a choice.

And you have a choice now?

In a way, I did. Or at least, I had. He’d given me a choice before I’d stupidly let go of my right to refuse on our anniversary. Now anal sex had become this hugethingbetween us—and an even bigger thing in my head—where I waited in dread for him to do it while he taunted me with the fact that he was going to fuck me that way.

And he always took his time, as if he lived to take me in such a demeaning way, drawing out my discomfort and fear along with the mind-blowing orgasm at the end.

I finished bathing Eve and tucked her in for the night, then immediately wished I’d come up with an excuse to stall. Hovering outside her bedroom, I did my best to come up with something that needed to be donenow.

There was nothing. I’d finished the nightly chores, and Eve was already snoring softly in that precious way she had about her. The only thing left was my avowed duty to my husband.

It was time to be his obedient slave.

I padded down the hall and spied Gage in his office. He sat at his desk, one hand propping up his head while his sharp gaze roamed the screen of his laptop. I should just head down to the basement and prepare. It’s what he expected. What he wanted. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Pushing the door open further, I glanced at the cage in the corner, now hidden behind the facade of a cabinet that locked. The black metal panel stared me in the face whenever I set foot inside his home office, a constant threat. I was one serious misstep away from finding myself back in there.

“Eve in bed?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you know how hard I am for you right now?” He didn’t lift his head, and I wanted to go to him just to run my fingers through his thick, dark strands.

“No, Master,” I said with a nervous swallow. “How hard?”

“Hard enough to break you in two. Don’t make me punish you for stalling.”

Shit, shit, shit.

He had me wound so tightly I could hardly breathe. I hurried from his office and down the stairs of the basement. Something sat on the end of the bed, just like he’d promised, but it took me a full minute to find the courage to see what it was.

Thigh highs and a garter belt. No panties. That wasn’t the distressing part. No, the O-Ring gag and nipple clamps had me pulling my hand back, as did the accompanying note.

Put them on, then wait for me on your knees.

Was I in trouble? But that didn’t seem right. He was always the one to put the clamps on and shove the gags in. I couldn’t imagine him giving the honor to me if I were about to receive a punishment.

But I hadn’t misread the note. He wanted me to do it this time. God, Gage would not be happy until I surrendered every last piece of myself. He’d been slowly breaking me down from the moment he caught me stealing from him. Even after we’d married, he’d continued to play me like a well-loved guitar.

The Friday Night Ritual, which still occurred without fail. The sly introduction of all the things I’d “negotiated” against before we got married.

No bullwhip? Now used once a month to remind me of how I’d failed him with Ian.

No nipple clamps? Now used whenever he fucking felt like it.

As far as gags went, he didn’t wait to catch me in a lie anymore. He used them freely as well. Ever since I’d flirted with disaster all those months ago, he’d basically tossed my hard limits out the window, and he’d been pushing past them ever since.

Week after week with more severity. Pushing just a little…bit…more.

My guilt hadn’t let me object at first. I’d felt he was justified in doing whatever he wanted, considering what I’d done. But then things had shifted, and we’d found our footing. He’d even returned my cell and the key to my car—albeit with restrictions.

But the hard limits…he kept bulldozing right over them as if they didn’t exist.

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