Page 66 of Married to the Devil

His eyes flash at my words, like he wants to thrust inside me and prove me wrong, but I stand by my words. It doesn’t make a difference if I have his mating mark or if he fills me up like he’s threatened.

I’m a person. I may have been instrumental in a trade for peace, but I won’t be owned like an object to be discarded.

And because I don’t know when I’ll next be close to him, my thumb traces over his lips. They’re so soft compared to how unforgiving everything else about him is. They twitch under my touch, and I pull away, unable to interpret the hard look on his face.

“Well played, wife.” His cool words contrast with his burning cock against me.

I clench my jaw, coming back to our odd stalemate where I stumble around this gargoyle. I pull out of his arms. My body is angry at the interrupted release, but the burn of winning this round is vibrant if bitter.

“Thank you for my gift,” he says as I fall back into the seat beside him, trying to ignore the spike of embarrassment and the wetness between my thighs.

I have nothing to be embarrassed about. I wanted to taste him, and I did. If he wasn’t so intolerable or just kept his damn mouth shut, I’d have enjoyed an orgasm that would have blurred the lines between us.

As it is, my body is left disappointed.

“Much better than what I was going to ask for,” he adds when I don’t respond.

I freeze in my process of pulling my dress down and wondering where my underwear went. The awkwardness and curiosity rushes back faster than my brain can come online. “What were you going to ask for?”

Stoneheart shrugs and does up his kilt again, hiding his fearsome cock. “I would have settled for you calling me by my name. You do know it.”

Remy.I swallow, and my blush is hot. How is he always able to knock me off my axis?

Finally, I lean back into the seat, facing forward and abandoning the search for my underwear. So what if someone else finds it? The people here want us fucking like rabbits, right?

“I’ll have to add that to the list of the other gifts I’ll be giving,” I say primly. “But it’s rather low on the list. I currently like the other recipients more than you.”

“And what sorts of gifts do you have in mind?” he asks, suspicion loud in his question as if he’d rather claim all my gifts for himself.

I evade my urge to dissect that and focus on my new goal instead.

I only need to figure out how to accomplish something that’s never been done before. This territory needs to believe it’s protected, and I finally know how I’m going to serve that.

“Well, husband,” I say, not ready to delve into the quagmire of my emotions that come with speaking his name, nor do I want to satisfy his wish. “I’m going to make charms that protect against fae magic.”

21

REMY

Stella laughsat something the man facing her says, and it takes effort not to march over to the other side of the room and commit violence. Her cocktail dress is a shimmery blue, and it wouldn’t match the blood spatter if his hand gets any closer to resting on her arm like he’s twitching to do.

“You’re definitely filling the role of a possessive mate swimmingly, but try not to threaten to rip anyone’s arms off tonight,” Silas says. “This is supposed to be about the two of you showcasing that you are not Lorenzo. Ariel went to a lot of effort to organize this get-together.”

“I wouldn’t threaten to rip off someone’s arms.” I’d do it happily without warning. The warning not to touch is the wedding ring on my wife’s finger.

Silas rolls his eyes at my glower, but he’s right. Ariel Leonid did go to a lot of trouble organize the entertainment and to invite as many business owners and people in positions of power as would attend this…did she call it a soiree? Luckily, it’s not a ball. She’d wanted to plan a ball.

The purpose is to set people at ease, and it seems to be working.

Every time someone is brave enough to approach me, they inhale, and their shoulders ease at the mix of my scent with Stella’s. She’d marked me up so well the other day in the town car that even a shower hadn’t cleansed her from my skin.

It’s not like I wanted her scent gone, we sleep in the same bed for that reason, but it is distracting to desire her so much and have her be still so resistant.

The moment when she chose to touch me in the town car was pivotal. I don’t even regret the way it ended. My desire to consummate our marriage wars hard in me, but this push and pull with her is a pleasure all its own.

I willownher, and she’ll beg me for it.

The only comfort I have in being across the room from Stella is that Ben stands behind her, his eyes narrowed at whoever is flirting with our woman.

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