Page 64 of My Wife

But I refuse to admit it. Not until he makes the last five years up to me… “No.”

“You love me. I know you do. Tell me, Cyn. Tell me I’m still your husband.”

Is that a hint of panic I hear? He deserves it. “‘Til death do we part. That’s what we promised, right? Everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“Then I’ll marry you again,” snarls Clay, his hand going to my throat. He collars it, tugging my head down so that our mouths are inches apart. “You and me, we go on that ferry. We get the fuck out of Gullhaven. We start over… I’ll give you the wedding of your dreams, leave this island behind. But youaremy wife. Not even Tommy could’ve changed that.”

I shiver, jerking out of his hold. “What would the next five years have looked like? The three of us together?”

“If it’s the only way I could have you,” he swears.

I actually believe that. Or, rather, thatClaybelieves he means it when he says that.

Hooking my leg around his hip, I angle his cock so that it’s lodged at the entrance of my pussy, then sink down on him. Once I’m seated on his lap, I wrap my arms around his neck. “And what if I don’t consider myself your wife anymore?”

Clay tilts his head back, breaking my hold on him now as he bares his throat. “Then kill me,” he whispers, the sound ragged and almost daring. “Find my knife. Carve my heart out of mychest. At least if I die now, I die fucking the only woman I could ever love.”

My elbows rest on his shoulders, my fingers curving his cheeks. “Kill you? Why would I kill you? I just got you back, married or not. But if you ever try to leave me again…”

He leans into my touch. “I never should’ve let Tommy convince me I had to. I was young. Stupid.” His hands move to the small of my back, clutching me to him. “Fuck, Cyn, I wasguilty. He was my best friend. My goddamn brother. And what did I do? I obsessed over his girl.” He squeezes me through my shirt, bucking up as he bottoms out inside of me, forcing me to take everything he has to offer. “When I found a way to make you mine, I took it. You cheated on him with me because I made you, and I stole you away because Ineededto?—”

“You stole me because I wanted to be stolen.” Still caressing his skin, I trail my fingers down his blood-spattered face, stroking his jaw, then settling my hands around his neck again. As I rock on him, squeezing his cock, I dig my thumbs into his throat—and Clay groans. I smile. “You wanted me more. That’s what counted. I wanted to be the most important person to someone. Tommy had his family. His friends.Summer,” I spit out, using my nails to jab into his skin.

Clay quickens his thrusts, pounding up into my pussy as I draw blood. “Fuck, yes, Cyn. Do thatagain.”

No. I pull out my nails, even as I’m careful not to lose the connection of his dick inside of me, before patting the crescent-shaped marks I left behind. “You chose him over me.”

“Never—”

I stop moving. “Liar. Five years, Clayton. You abandoned me forfive fucking years. Because you promised Tommy he could have a chance. But what about your promise to me?”

“I told you. I did it for you.”

“Prove it,” I repeat.

I taunted Clay with that earlier and he killed Tommy. What will he do now?

Clay drops his head to my neck, suckling my skin. He shifts his hips enough to make me fall forward on his lap, reminding me that I’m stuffed full of him. His teeth graze the side of my throat. I wanted to hurt him. Unless I’m imagining it, my murderous husband is trying to mark me with a hickey like we’re seventeen again.

Angling my head, giving him better access to my neck, I let him.

He laps at my skin, the heat of his tongue sending shivers through me. My pussy contracts on his length, Clay sucking in a breath as I squeeze him again.

“You loved him,” he grates out at last. “When we were kids, you chose him first. Would you have picked me if I didn’t force you to? If I didn’t blackmail you into giving me all you could until I earned your heart?”

Would I have? I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. From the moment Clay stepped out of the shadows, making it clear he watched me drown my mother, I had no choice. There was only one thing Clay wanted for his silence:me. First, in his house. Later, in his bed. He threatened to tell the truth about what happened on Halo Island if I didn’t follow him to New Jersey, and by the time he asked me to be his wife—and I saw just how far he would go to make me love him—I never wanted to be separated from this man.

But Clay and Tommy had other plans, didn’t they?

“I married you once,” I remind him.

“Yeah, Cyn. And I told Tommy the trade was off once you had my ring on your finger.” Lifting his head, Clay dips his chin so that he can find my hand. It’s on his shoulder, and he reaches up, grabbing my left one with his right. “You are my wife. I couldn’t share?—”

I shake his hand off, then plant mine against his chest. My right hand is still on his shoulder. Using Clay’s body as leverage, I start to fuck him. Not just ride him. Not just sit on his lap, keeping his cock warm out in the late October breeze. The lake’s chill has my arms covered in goosebumps, while the heat of Clay’s strong body is all I need to stay hot, and after I purposely start bouncing on top of him, moving so quickly, he can barely match my rhythm, sweat starts beading up along my brow.

Clay wasn’t expecting that. But if he thought that I’d forgiven him already, then he’s forgotten exactly who his wifeis. I’m not trying to get off myself, but as soon as he lays me out on the damp grass, switching our positions so that he’s the one chasing his own nut, I slap him across the face with all the strength I can muster.

Did I need any further proof that the last five years apart changed my husband? Not really, but I get it in the way he reacts to me hitting him. Bracing his hands on both sides of my upper arms, caging me in, he comes with a roar, my name echoing across an island where only the dead can hear him.

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