Page 28 of Dragonfly

Good luck, my dear.

Tucking my cock back into my pants, I hurriedly button them before zipping up. I adjust myself so that I’m as comfortable as I’m going to get, check to make sure my knife is still where it belongs, then start for the door.

I make it three steps before Savannah’s voice calls after me.

“What happens now?”

I look over my shoulder at her. She’s standing, arms crossed over her impressive chest, as she glares at me.

Damn it. I have to adjust myself again after the way that heated look goes straight to my cock.

Her attention dips, eyes drawn to the way I cup my groin. Since she’s not looking at me, I don’t bother concealing my smirk.

She can deny it all she wants, but at least she’s drawn to me. I can work with that. There’s a fine line between love and hate, and the fact that she already has some strong emotions regarding me will work in my favor.

I want this woman any way I can take her, and if I have to use every tricky, manipulative maneuver I can to get what I want… I will.

“I am going to check on my sister. You can get ready for bed.”

Her eyes darken as she takes one noted step back. “I already told you. You can’t make me fuck you. If you do, that’s rape?—”

“I’m not going to rape you. When I fuck you… and, believe me, Savannah, I will fuck you… it’ll be because you opened your legs for me the same way you just opened your mouth for my cock. If that’s not tonight, fine. That’s a disappointment, but I’m a big boy. I can wait?—”

“You’ll be waiting until your dick is shriveled up then.”

“If you let me live that long. Hmm?”

She doesn’t say anything to that. Certain that I made my point all the same, I start for the door again.

And, again, she stops me.

“That’s really your sister? Not your girlfriend?”

Oh, Savannah. Did she really think I was that much of an asshole that I’d cheat on my romantic partner by forcing Savannah to marry me, then manipulating her into going down on me?

From the look on her face, the answer is yes—but that’s not all I see.

I raise my eyebrows at her. “Jealous, wife?”

She scoffs. “What? No. I’m just trying to figure out how I’ll ever face her again if she really is your sister. You might not give a fuck, but I don’t perform sex acts in front of an audience. Her first impression of me is sucking her brother’s dick. You don’t see why that would make me feel like shit?”

Interesting that my murderous wife cares about what Genevieve thinks about her… and that she honestly believes I’ll let her get near my baby sister.

“Don’t you worry about her. My sister is my business.”

“And she’s used to walking in on you getting your knob polished? Is that it?”

No. And that’s precisely why I have to go check on her.

But first?—

“Deny being jealous all you want, Savannah. I’ll set your mind at ease regardless. Genevieve is my sister. Vincent is my cousin. You are my wife. I have no… mm… arrangements with any other women. Before tonight, I wasn’t married. I don’t have a girlfriend… and if I did? I’m fucking forty. It’s a little ridiculous to refer to my partner as a ‘girlfriend’ if we’re exclusive, don’t you think? Anyway, I much prefer the title of ‘wife’. And, in case you still think this is all a bad dream, I assure you, it isn’t. You’re my wife, and if you want a happy husband, you’ll do what you’re told and stay put.”

She didn’t say a word the entire time I spoke, but she swallows roughly when I finish.

And then?—

“And if I don’t?”

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