Page 113 of Boy of Ruin
Soft, warm breaths fan against my ear.
Then my husband whispers, “Miss me, baby girl?” and my blood runs cold.
He’s come back.
She doesn’t move.
She’s completely frozen against me, but I feel her pulse flying in her throat, under my hand.
I feel the slight swell of her belly, her thin fingers beneath mine. I inhale her lavender scent, nearly groaning as I do. My heart aches, my own pulse unsteady in my chest. My mouth is dry, and I feel breathless.
She’s here.
In my arms.
For over a month, I’ve tried to live without her.
Over a month, I’ve tried to forget her.
She’s never left my mind once. Not even last night, with someone else’s lips around my dick. With another girl’s pussy on my cock.
I never stopped thinking of her.
In this dark bathroom, it’s like nothing ever happened at all. It’s like we’ve gone away for the two of us, spent time alone, and now we’re reunited, happy again.
But we aren’t.
She. Fucking. Left.
“So quiet,” I tell her, whispering against the shell of her ear. A shudder runs through her small body and I smile, walking her forward so her hips are against the counter in the dark bathroom.
I hear the rumble of voices from down the hall, but luckily, I can’t make out the words, so she probably can’t either.
I have no idea if they’ve got him right now, but I don’t give a fuck either.
“Has he touched you, baby girl?” I ask her, feel her chest heaving, her belly rising and falling under our hands.
Over our baby.
“Have you been a bad girl, Lilith?”
She doesn’t answer me. Of course she fucking doesn’t, because if there’s one thing I know about my wife, it’s that she’s always bad.
“Hmm?” I prod, running my mouth over her jaw and relishing in the way she’s trembling in my arms. “Did you let him fuck you, love?”
I nip at her ear and she whimpers as my fingers tighten on her throat in a warning. Interesting. She wasn’t so fucking fragile before she left.
Unless… My stomach drops as I think about that time I found her in the woods. About the bruises around her throat.
But no.
She would only have those if she really did fuck him, and I know she knows better than that.
She wouldn’t have.
But I did.
She still isn’t answering me, and for the first time since I started to ask her, only wanting to hear her say it wasn’t true, I feel a prickle of worry at what the answer might be.
