Page 86 of Married to the Devil

Other details come into focus.

A heavy forearm rests against the skin of my stomach, my sleep shirt pushed up, and a clawed hand grips my bare breast. There’s a furnace against my back that gives an unguarded masculine sigh. It’s an oddly reassuring position if a little warm for my tastes except for thebarecock rocking against my ass.

The skin of his thighs brushes mine, the kilt he wears is bunched at my lower back. My shorts are damp, and his sticky precum smooths each glide of his hardness against the thin fabric.

There must be something weak in my biology for this gargoyle because even in sleep, I’m primed. Every point of contact makes me needy in a way that I’ve been trying to avoid with him.

He wants me to beg. He wants my surrender, but I didn’t think he’d try to get it this way.

“S-Stoneheart?” I ask softly.

My husband’s mouth opens against my neck, his tongue sliding as his lips suck over the mating mark he left on me. The sensuous glide has my lashes falling, and I shudder on an inhale.

If I were any more awake, I’d castigate myself for rolling my hips back to get more contact. In the dark of morning, I can forget that he’ll never give into the part of him that is just as entranced with me as I am with him.

I can forget that the boundaries in his heart are clear in the sand.

His movements are uncoordinated, and his chest rumbles in pleasure as he grinds himself against my body. That’s odd. He’s usually so exacting with each touch and?—

My eyes pop open.

He’s asleep.

“Fuck,” I whisper, torn between waking his grumpy ass up or just waiting for whatever dream he’s having to end and falling back asleep to avoid the awkwardness.

I squirm in his hold. Maybe if I try to escape, he’ll wake up enough to roll over, but the strategy proves to be flawed when his cock slips up one of the loose leg holes of my shorts and brushes my pussy.

I freeze. A little horrified but a lot turned on. The fucker isn’t even awake, and I’m already halfway to orgasm.

“So sweet,” he mumbles.

Stella Elderflower, you will wake this gargoyle up right now!I try to lecture myself, but my body doesn’t respond. My brain can say that there are rules concerning this gargoyle, but my bones want him. Our battle of wills has left me bruised and needy. Greedy even though he’d gifted Ben the intimacy of fucking me the other night.

And I’m so wet. Like the ripest peach just brimming over with juice. On his next rock, the head of him breaks through my folds, hitting against my swollen clit. I breathe a moan, and his hand squeezes my breast harder before the rocking of his hips halts.

He stops sucking on my skin and kisses it instead.

“Wife,” he says. His voice is deep and gruff and suddenly very awake.

I swallow, and my cheeks burn in humiliation, but I don’t try and pretend I’m asleep. I suspect he’d know I was lying, and I’m not a coward. “Husband.”

He sighs and inhales against my neck. “Apologies. Your scent is acting like a magnet to me.”

I frown even as my lashes flutter at the brush of his breath against the fine hairs there. “Really?”

It can’t be a terribly strong magnet since I sure haven’t experienced waking up with him like this before. Maybe it’s because we’ve been far more intimate than at the beginning?

“You’re fertile. My instincts are sensitive to you,” he says.

I stiffen.Fertile.The thoughts of creating an heir that have circulated in my mind, and I assumed had quieted, come fighting to the surface. Instead of delving more into that, I stick to facts. “But I have a charm to prevent pregnancy.”

“Your body goes through the same cycle even as the charm keeps you from conceiving.”

He’s right. I do have periods. It makes sense that I would have times of being extra enticing to go along with them.

He hasn’t yet pulled away. His cock rests against me, collecting my essence, and waiting for the moment to slide inside.

“For being sorry, you haven’t stopped,” I say.

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