Page 65 of Married to the Devil

“So pretty and happy with your mouth full of me,” he says.

My cheeks burn, and my body eases against my permission to the part of myself that he expertly handled before, that wants to be handled. My eyes glaze as I take him deeper, falling into the delight of following his orders.

His words are almost a purr. “You’re so wet from this that I bet if Ben were here, you’d beg for him to fill you up.”

I gasp, but the grip he has on my hair doesn’t let me take much of a breath before his cock is painting my tongue with more precum. My legs shake and need has me pushing my panties down to my knees to touch myself. My pussy is so wet that I can’t help skating past my clit to sink my fingers inside of myself so I have something to clutch around.

He presses deep in my throat until I gag and nearly come from the way my body tightens. I whimper, but Stoneheart doesn’t let up.

“Easy, sweet firefly, don’t take more than you can handle.” He lectures me like his grip isn’t what is pushing me forward. “I can hear how wet you are. Will you beg me to let your demon fuck you when we meet with him again? Will you even last that long?”

I make a small sound of frustration. My impatience and self-preservation need this to end because I’m enjoying it too much. I’ve heard enough rumors and witnessed Ben’s action last night, to know what he needs to come. I force my fingers leave me and grip both hands around the spongy flesh at the bottom of his shaft.

I test the give of his knot in my hands, and Stoneheart stiffens. My mouth softens around him at the thought of howthis part of him would feel inside me. I don’t even know if it would fit, and it’s so hard. There’s some give to it, but it would really require my body to stretch to accept it.

I squeeze the knot, wanting my reward and for this gargoyle to shatter like I have multiple times for him.

“Harder,” he snarls under his breath. “It would be a fight for your body to accept my knot. So tight that you’d make me lose my mind.”

I squeeze as hard as I can moaning at his imagery. Fuck. I want that. I want him to be pressing hard for this part of him to lock inside me. Stoneheart’s grunt is the warning I get before my mouth fills with his release. I swallow and lick away the remnants, a little punch drunk even though I haven’t achieved any release yet.

Stoneheart lifts me from the floor of the car and rips away the panties tangling my legs before positioning me to straddle him.

I gasp at the contact of my bare pussy sliding against his spit-soaked cock. My hands clutch his muscled shoulders, and I rock my hips without meaning to. The pleasure at the slide takes my breath away.

It would be so easy to slip his still-hard cock inside me, but Stoneheart doesn’t allow me to move much with the grip he has on my hips.

My mind chants obscenities, and my vision blurs.

One of his claws releases the grip he has on my hip and traces over the neckline of my dress. I blink and look down at the chain and medallion he’s toying with almost without thought.

It’s my charm that wards against pregnancy. Mine is simple for a charm maker, a symbol stamped disk, but the gold hums well against my skin. He knows the significance, it’s commonplace in our world.

It would be so easy to let him inside me, to beg for it. He could fuck me in this back seat, and there would be no physical repercussions. But how far would I let his glinting eyes take me? Would I be inviting the war inside my body instead of just between the two of us? Would he shred my soul as surely as my peace of mind?

Do I care?

I can barely breathe. He lets me roll my hips against him, and the cascade of sensation has my head tilting back.

“I bet you ache to feel me inside of you.” His words are hypnotizing. “Your cunt is so slick like it wants to stretch to take me.”

“Fuck,” I say out loud rather than just chanting in my head. I look down at the mess I’m making on his cock. His cum and mine mix stickily against my inner thighs, and his knot is shiny with lubrication.

This is it. I’m going to fuck my husband because if I don’t, I’m going to combust.

“Do you want that?” he taunts. “For me to leave you filled with my seed so no one will doubt who owns you?” Stoneheart’s pale gaze is dark with promise.

I freeze, and my body cries out in denial as my brain catches up. His hard cock pulses against my clit, but that word ruins this. Own.

Maybe if our past wasn’t already full of wounds I would enjoy beingowned, belonging to someone.

But that’s not what this gargoyle is offering.

“You don’townme.” My words leave me on a rasp.

Stoneheart’s eyes get dangerously intent, as if he’d like nothing more than to disprove that, but I’ve found my boundary, and it’s not moving even for this devil.

“I’ve given you permission to have a claim on me. If you want to own something, adopt a plant,” I say.

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