Page 103 of Married to the Devil

My brows rise, and Stoneheart and I exchange a glance. That wasn’t a no.

I’m stalling, and for some reason Stoneheart is letting me. Perhaps because the last time I refused to play for her, Stella was hurt.

She possesses more of that gargoyle than he knows

But I won’t hurt her by keeping this part of my soul from them. While I’m here, my heart is hers. And Stoneheart…he can have whatever is left.

I play, starting soft with a pretty melody that makes me think of dawn. I’m self-taught and have never performed for anyone. Music is something that is wholly mine, and now I’m sharing it. The process is more anxiety-inducing than I expected.

But as the music swells in my chest, the tightness in my throat from these two being my audience begins to fade, and I’m lost to it.

To wildflowers and dark stormy nights. The composition starts as a simple tune but morphs into something else. Something dark that intertwines with light and speaks of hope and impending grief in a sweeping melody.

I’m interrupted by large hands pulling me from the piano bench and gripping either side of my face. And like the music, I lose myself to Stoneheart’s kiss.

Fangs scrape my lips, and my chest presses against his harder one as I clutch him to me, skin against skin, heart to heart, and allow him to devour me. There’s something to the act that almost feels angry, but I don’t know why.

It’s all tongues and teeth, and I’m completely engrossed.

I have to break the kiss to gasp for breath, but he doesn’t release the grip he has on my face.

“What a talented little songbird you turned out to be,” he says, and the frustration I see burning on his face confuses me.

The sound of rustling sheets has both of us looking toward the bed. Stella’s expression is one caught between wonder and lust. Her eyes watery, and her cheeks flushed.

“That was beautiful,” she says, and my cheeks prickle. I don’t know for a moment if she means the music or the kiss. Part of me thinks it’s a remark about both.

“Hungry so soon?” Stoneheart teases, any hint of the frustration from before has been wiped away.

Stella bites her lips. Her thighs slide together under the sheets as if she needs to release the tension between them, but she winces.

“Sore?” Stoneheart asks and she hesitates before nodding.

“But I want more,” she says. “A little pain is okay. I’m just not as greedy about it as Ben is.”

The burn in my cheeks spreads to my ears, and Stoneheart tsks, giving me a warning look to stay put before releasing me to walk to the bed. Without ceremony he pulls the sheet that she has clutched to her breasts away, and my heart skips at the reveal of the expanse of her skin and soft curves.

She yelps in surprise as the demanding gargoyle pulls her to lay flat and gestures for her to spread her legs.

Stella’s breath catches as her thighs fall open without hesitation. I groan from my vantage point but don’t move from the spot where her husband left me.

Her pussy is wet and puffy, but the pink-red color speaks of the arduous use it received last night as we bred her.

“Your cunt is rather abused,” Stoneheart muses and lowers into a kneel, bringing his face close in a way that has me swallowing envy. My mouth waters from the memory of her taste. “I’ve been remiss in caring for you. I’ll get some proper healing ointment for the job, but in the meantime?—”

The breath Stella hisses in is a mixture of pain and pleasure as his long-tapered tongue licks through her folds.

Stoneheart’s chest rumbles, and he lifts to hover, a string of saliva descends from his mouth and pools on Stella’s waiting pussy. Her face flames red as he brings her hand to cover the mess. “Let that soak in and heal what it can. Maybe by the time I’m done with our demon you can bear me again.”

“Fuck,” I whisper, remembering that gargoyle saliva has healing properties.

“Well now I care much less about the pain,” she breathes.

His lips pull into a grin. “Patience, firefly, it doesn’t do to be greedy. Not when Ben has been so generous.”

Both of their gazes land on me, and the burning desire low in my gut escapes to run rampant through my veins.

In a flash, he’s on me again. He grips my hair near my scalp this time to tilt my face how he wants before returning to kissing me.

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