Page 64 of Married to the Devil

“And in yours. Are you complaining?” he asks on the edge of snapping his teeth at me.

Am I? “So, I have your permission to work on this problem?”

“I didn’t think you needed it.” Stoneheart’s eyes glitter in a way that I think is respect before he looks away. “Keep Silas up to date with your progress.”

I nod, a little breathless that he’s giving me what I’m asking for so easily. Even if there was that comment about training. That’s definitely not going to hold when whoever he selects to train me realizes how useless I am at it. “Thank you.”

The thick silver of the ring keeps trying to catch my attention with that heady flavor I can’t quite make out without some heavy meditation sessions.

“It does seem that I’m the one giving all the gifts recently and receiving none,” Stoneheart muses. The tone of his voice isn’t quite right. There’s that underlying tension that sounds like…jealousy?

I freeze when it clicks. Last night, after Stoneheart gave me the labradorite, and I gave Ben the charm his energy changed. Each move and harsh order brimmed with it. But it wasn’t from sharing me, it was that Ben received something from me, and Stoneheart didn’t.

Did me giving Ben a gift signify more than I realized?

Have I hurt Stoneheart’s feelings? That should be impossible, but I think I have.

I clear my throat. “I seem to remember a demon on his knees for you. Wasn’t that a gift?”

Stoneheart’s expression is blasé. “We both know he was on his knees for you.”

After days in this gargoyle’s presence, the edifice covering his emotions cracks. I want to run my fingers down every hint, but that’s the Stella before our wedding night. The one who wanted something more with Stoneheart and got burned.

But it doesn’t mean that I can’t have a taste.

I lean forward and press my lips to his. The contact makes me feel reckless and alive even though it’s a chaste kiss that he doesn’t deepen. I pull away, and he’s watching me like one would a wild animal. Cautious even as his tongue licks away my flavor.

My body hums with shame that I’ve unintentionally hurt his feelings, but the dark part of me that enjoys the grittier parts of these emotions takes notice and wants to flex. Just a little bit.

“And what about me going down on my knees for you?” I slide off the seat, and I kneel before him. “Is that a worthy gift?”

“Stella,” he growls. The gray tone of his skin darkens on his cheeks. “This isn’t the time?—”

“I want to show my appreciation,” I say, and it’s true. He’s a conundrum that I want to tackle. Other than the humiliation of the first night, he’s been…if not generous, accommodating. And this might be a little more for me than it is for him.

My hands move to his kilt. I expect him to stop me, but he doesn’t. I undo the enclosures, exposing his cock.

I suck in a shaky, surprised breath. He’s already so hard. The bulbous shape at the bottom of his shaft that is his knot is an angry purple. His scent causes my mouth to water, and the expression on his face is almost as fierce as when he to discovered me on the city street.

“So would this be an adequate gift?” I ask softly, my fingers sliding softly up his heated skin. The touch is a tease for both of us.

This isn’t submitting, not really. Or that’s what I tell myself anyway.

“Perhaps,” he says, seemingly unaffected, but my fingertips burn against his throbbing cock.

“Your body seems like it wants this, but I’ll stop if you want me to,” I say, my tone careless but breathless at the same time.

“Do you want me to admit I’m like this every time I catch scent of your arousal? Would that make it easier to try and manipulate me?” he snarls.

Is that what he thinks I’m doing? I guess that makes more logical sense than that being around him does things to me.

“I don’t want to manipulate you.” The confession is hushed, and my body is pulsing in time with his.I want you.It’s a confession that doesn’t need to be voiced but keeping it a secret helps me feel safer in this type of play, so the words don’t escape me.

“Then suck me, wife. Give us both what we want.” The growl to his words causes my core to contract, and I nearly whimper in need but follow his order.

I take him into my mouth, and we both moan. The bitter tang of precum and the leashed violence of his flesh against my tongue makes me squirm.

He grips my hair, pulling at the roots in a way that shakes the boundaries I’ve built between us. He hums in satisfaction as I allow him to direct my pace and push against the back of my throat.

---