Page 134 of Brutal Vows
Horrified to realize his meaning, I say softly, “Oh God, Quinn, no. Nothing like that. I was on the pill the whole time I was married.”
He exhales, nodding. “Okay. Sorry, I’m just…” He stops short, then looks me in the eye. “So you’re saying you’re still on the pill?”
I feel heat creeping up my neck, but there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.”
His gaze turns intense. “Then what kind of birth control are you on, woman?”
Looking at the roof of the car, I crinkle my nose and say, “Um…”
With the speed of two fingers snapping, he devolves from anadult human male with a fully functioning frontal lobe to a cave-dwelling primate composed of 99 percent penis.
A growl rises from deep in his throat. His arms tighten around me. His intensity level ratchets up a few thousand notches, and his eyes turn black. His energy crackling hot, he stares at me as if I’m about to be devoured.
In a guttural voice that raises all the hairs on the back of my neck, he says, “You’re not using anything.”
I nervously lick my lips. “Don’t go all George of the Jungle on me. I simply didn’t know I’d be needing anything because I didn’t know I’d be getting married.”
His savage grin is reminiscent of how an animal bares its teeth. His eyes gleam with a disturbing light. And his erection is now the fourth passenger in the car, quickly sucking out all the oxygen.
“You never mentioned that, viper. You let me fuck you and—”
“Keep your voice down!”
“—begged for me to come inside you.Beggedme. And the whole time, you weren’t on birth control.” He bites my throat, then says hotly into my ear, “What does that mean?”
Shivering, I whisper, “That I have brain damage and should be taken to see a specialist immediately.”
He wraps a hand around my throat and takes my mouth.
The kiss is consuming in its intensity. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth and ravages it passionately until I think I’ll pass out. When he breaks away, we’re both panting.
But he’s the only one laughing.
Low, rough, and thoroughly pleased, his laughter is a victory lap around the race that I’ve obviously just lost with my admission.
“Quinn?”
“Aye, viper?”
“Don’t talk to me for the rest of the day, okay?”
Still chuckling, he kisses me again. His mouth is possessive, his embrace is tight, and his eyes are living fire.
“Whatever my queen wants.”
Looking away from his triumphant face, I wonder how soon is too soon to start marriage counseling.
THIRTY-ONE
REY
Quinn takes me shopping at the most expensive stores in the city, one by one. Not only at the couture clothing ateliers, but also for shoes, handbags, perfume, cosmetics, lingerie, and luggage.
It takes the entire day.
He arranges for most things to be delivered to his home address, but what doesn’t get delivered, poor Kieran lugs to the car with the patience of a saint.
When I ask Quinn why he doesn’t help him, he grins.
