Page 118 of Brutal Vows
I tip my head back on the pillow, find a strand of her silken hair, and tug on it as she sucks and strokes my cock. “Viper,” I whisper raggedly. “My beautiful viper. What have you done to me?”
When she moans around my cock, I feel it all the way down to my balls. Sucking in air through my teeth, I sink my hand into her hair and make a fist.
“Baby. Fuck. I’m there. I’m right fucking there—ah—”
I gasp and jerk, erupting in hot, uncontrollable pulses before I can finish the sentence.
She curls both hands around my shaft and sucks the crown as I come in her mouth, lost to sensation, my heart flying and my entire body shuddering with release.
When it’s over and I’m lying there panting and shaking, she gives my cock one final squeeze, sits back onto her heels, licks her lips, and smiles at me.
“You taste like hazelnuts.”
My laugh is breathless. “You like hazelnuts, sweetheart?”
“They’re my favorite thing.”
Maybe God doesn’t hate me so much after all.
TWENTY-EIGHT
REY
When I open my eyes in the early morning, I have no idea where I am.
I lie on my side in the unfamiliar bed, staring out a wall of glass to an unfamiliar view of a city. There’s an unfamiliar soreness in my body—especially between my legs.
There’s also an unfamiliar but very comfortable warmth snuggled behind me. Like a heated blanket, only with muscles.
A ray of morning light catches the ring on my finger, blinding me with a sudden flash of scarlet. It all comes back to me like a full-body slap.
I’m married.
To Quinn.
My archenemy.
But that doesn’t feel right, calling him my archenemy. I’ve never had an enemy who killed for me or focused all his attention on my pleasure or gave me choices over how to live my life.
Now that I think about it, I’ve never had a friend like that, either.
Is that what we are now? Friends?
Don’t be ridiculous. Married people aren’t friends.
Are they?
I don’t know. I’ve never seen a marriage like that, but I suppose it’s not impossible they exist. In the “real” world, people marry all the time for love. Those people must like each other, too, I suppose.
Why else would you vow to spend the rest of your life with someone who’s going to annoy you half the time you’re together?
Or maybe normal couples don’t annoy each other.
Maybe normal couples don’t threaten to murder each other, either.
Though the murder threats are only coming from my side. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but if Quinn keeps acting so sweet, I’ll have to rethink how often I warn I’m going to put a bullet in him.
Stirring behind me, he says in a thick voice, “I can hear the gears turning, lass. You’re thinking again.”
