Page 203 of Under the Bed

I don’t mind outsourcing. What’s safer for Shiloh and Onyx works for me.

Especially when my wife lets me be as violent as I need whenever I need it. She lets me cut her. Spank her. Welt her. Mark her with my teeth.

Her pain and blood satisfy the depraved hunger that simmers inside me.

Her eyes are as blue as the ocean. Her cries of pain. Her mouth and cunt and ass, that are mine to violate any day or night.

Her soul.

From the very beginning, her soul was what drew me to her. What made me love her. First as my little sister, then as a woman.

It gets her off just as much.

My wife.

She’s so good. So understanding. Calm in the face of my madness. Unhinged when the mood strikes.

The woman who transformed me from an outcast to a big brother and then to a husband.

And eventually to a father.

My wife.

“Well?” I tickle my daughter’s tummy over her black swimsuit. “What do you say?”

“Ha!” she exclaims, the sound warming me down to my bones.

“Is that so?”

“Ha!” Her hands create tiny waves in the water, splashing more of it on her and me. “Ha!”

I can’t help it. I laugh at how cute she is.

Unbelievable.

Onyx was born six months ago, and she already owns our hearts. She has since the day she was born, this little girl with gold specks in her blue eyes.

A shadow looms over us. The dark figure moves to my side and, ah, there she is.

“Wife.”

Air surges into my lungs when Shiloh rests her head on my shoulder. “You two look adorable together.”

“Onyx is cute, but me?” I fasten my grip on our baby with one arm, freeing a hand to tip Shiloh’s chin up. Meeting her warm gaze. “Did you just call a serial killer adorable?”

Her lips curve into a sweet smile.

She doesn’t mind it when I say I’m a serial killer out loud. As long as the staff and the midwife we hired to live here aren’t on this side of the island. They have their own home, we have ours.

Not like they care. Thanks to Shiloh’s bastard of a dad, they’re fairly compensated for their confidentiality.

Besides, we won’t be living here forever. Shiloh paid off a few of her dad’s friends at the bureau, and they assured us that in five years, we’d be able to return to the States. They’re hard at work to erase any sign that we ever existed.

“Like what you see?” she teases, her hand covering my forearm, holding Onyx with me.

“Hmm.” I rake my gaze along her body. Along the blue bikini that matches her eyes. Her sun-kissed skin. The newcurves that are so fucking gorgeous on her. The fresh cuts on her thighs from last night.

Back to her expectant eyes.

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