Page 129 of Corrupted Heart

My monster.

My beast.

My husband.

My love.

Fuckkk.

With a shudder and a wrenching cry, my core clenches tight and spasms. My spine bends back into an arc as my hips rise, and when I explode for him, it’s like being reborn.

Kratos yanks me up and crushes his lips to mine. He rams into me, holding his huge cock all the way inside of me as he comes over and over, spilling his hot cum deep within me as I crumble to dust around him, lost in his lips.

Lost in our sweetest madness.

24

KRATOS

They say rules were meant to be broken.

It would appear that the woman wrapped in my arms, her breath tickling across my chest, is that saying personified.

I may be the one that chases her. I might be the one that pins her to the ground, and savages her, and drags her with claws and snarling teeth over every line she’s ever had.

But slowly, surely, in ways I honestly never saw coming, she’s the one who’s pulled me as well, far, far beyond lines I said I’d never cross. Shattered rules I set for myself that I’ve never broken up till now.

Given me “firsts” I swore I’d never have.

A first kiss. Being someone’s first. Even the way we’re tangled in each other’s limbs right now across the back seat of the town car I borrowed from Ares.

Aftercare. Pillow talk. Snuggling.

These are things I’ve obliterated from my lexicon. Things I “don’t do”.

And yet, here I am. Here we are.

Maybe it’s not that I don’t do snuggling, just that I never had Bianca before.

I know she’s awake. But her eyes are closed peacefully, her cheek against my bare chest and her small hand splayed across my abs. I watch the way my own large hand slides down the defined muscles of her bare dancer’s back. The way my big fingers splay across her ass, cupping the whole cheek in one hand.

She’s so fucking breakable. So crushable. And yet, I know I’d bleed my last ounce of strength in these arms shielding her from harm, rather than being the cause of it.

Her lips curl into a smile as I reach down and brush a lock of her hair back from her face.

Yes, I was furious when I watched via the hack on her phone as she “reset” her match parameters on the Venom site. In her case, it didn’t do shit, because I’d already locked that function in her account on the back end. But seeing she had that intent made me see red.

The fact that she wanted another man. Another player to go toe to toe with in these games of ours.

I could have stopped it there. I could have found her at the club I knew she was at, dragged her into the bathroom, and reminded her whose she is.

But that’s not really a reminder, it’s a threat. And I don’t want threats being what keeps this woman at my side. I don’t want anything “keeping” her there at all.

I want her to simply want to be there.

So I played her game. I indulged in a role, because I wanted to see—had to see—if she’d truly seek someone else.

In the end, she didn’t. She walked away. And not because she got cold feet.

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