Page 91 of Dragonfly

Over the last few days, though, he’s found another part of me he can’t keep his hands off of it…

“How are you healing?” he murmurs, freeing my curl before dropping his thumb to the back of my bicep.

I thought he was worried about the dragonfly inked on my forearm getting infected. That’s nothing compared to his concern about the four leaves tattooed there.

I think it’s because they’re not as common among his Family. Every member of the Dragonflies has a similar tattoo to the beautiful one that wraps around Damien’s forearm, but only five living enforcers have the tell-tale leaf tattoo on the back of their bicep.

Well, six now that my husband hired me on…

“I’m fine, Damien. What about you?” Turning into him, I lay my hand on his heart—and the bruise that’s a mottled shade of green, yellow, and purple instead of the deep purple-y red it was last week. “Feeling okay?”

Still stroking my most recent tattoos, he shifts in his seat, turning so he can nuzzle the point where my shoulder meets my neck. Orion yowls as the lap he was sitting on shrinks, but since that means my husband can sidle me closer so that he can kiss my throat, I don’t mind half as much as our cat does.

“You tell me, cara mia. I was well enough to have you sitting on my face earlier, bracing yourself with your hand in that same spot.”

“I checked with you then,” I remind him.

“That you did. And with your pussy in my mouth, I’d let you stab me again before I’d give you any reason to stop me from eating out my wife.”

I arch my neck, giving him better access to it. “If I stabbed you, you’d probably fuck me with the blade still inside of you.”

“And you’d like it, too, wouldn’t you, ragna mia?”

Know what? I would, but since I’d never risk this man again… “Sorry, but I’m out of the ‘killing Damien Libellula’ business.”

“No, you’re in the ‘killing for him’ business,” he breathes against my neck. “And I love that. What better enforcer and protector than the woman who owns this body? Owns my soul? Ti amo, amore.” He presses a kiss to my skin. “Sempre.”

“I love you, too,” I say, my voice shaky as I shiver. It didn’t take long for my husband to realize that my neck is a big erogenous zone for me, and even before he starts to lift me up so that I’m sitting on his lap where Orion was before, I’m wondering how bad would it really be if I got caught fucking my husband in the den.

Vin’s supposed to be resting. Genevieve’s music is still playing.

And Damien’s erection is pushing against my ass as I get cozy on his lap.

It wouldn’t take much. I could wiggle down my pants, he could unzip his, I grab his cock and I can have him inside of me in no time. A quickie might be enough to take the edge off, and since Damien is already dropping his hand to stroke my pussy through my leggings instead of paying attention to my enforcer leaves, I don’t think I’ll have to work hard to convince him it’ll be worth it.

And that’s when I hear someone clear their throat, and it’s so careful, I know for sure it’s not Vin.

One of the staff maybe?

I look over Damien’s head. At the same time, he turns just enough to see who’s standing in the doorway.

It’s Christopher.

I’m being cockblocked by Christopher.

Damn it.

The frustrated scowl on Damien’s face echoes the way I feel right about now as I plop myself down on the seat next to him as if I wasn’t two seconds away from riding him here out in the open.

I’ve only met Gen’s friend and Damien’s assistant a few times, but they’ve both spoken highly of him. Unlike Vin, he doesn’t know the true way that his boss and I met so he’s always been friendly enough to me—until he caught the first glimpse of my leaves and, suddenly, he’s a lot more careful around me.

Damien warned me that that would happen. It’s one of the reasons that Vin hides his leaves from anyone who’s not part of Damien’s inner circle. Dragonfly enforcers have a rep in Springfield, and if it’s anything like the one that’s followed Kieran Alfieri even after his death, I can only imagine what the other Dragonflies think of me.

Enforcers only get their leaves when they make a kill that benefits the Family. I went from being introduced as Damien’s ‘shy’ wife to showing up with four leaves. Three for each of the rival gangsters I shot and killed, plus the fourth that represented the ruthless way I slit Liz’s throat for betraying Damien.

And while my arm might not be as big as say, Vin’s, I’ve got two of them, plus an entire fucking spine now. The only one allowed to kill this man is me, and since—surprise, surprise—I love him too much to see him dead now, I’ll target any soul who thinks they can take him down.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I am his black widow. His spider.

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