Page 30 of The Devil's Demise

As for me, I finally did become a doctor, and currently run my own surgery practice for a good five years now. It took some time to convince myself I could do it though. I think I still held on to that fear, to that doubt, that I was capable of creating something that’s mine. I hate to admit it, but my mother’s tiny voice was still there, somewhere deep, telling me I was nothing without her. But I am. I always was. She was the one holding me back.

I never saw her again after the day in the grocery store. I bet anything she followed me there. Why else would she go miles from home and shop there. She doesn’t live in the same home my father was paying for. A year after my father’s death, she was holed up in a small apartment. She could no longer afford the luxuries in life and I bet it was killing her.

And those scars I once carried, in my heart, are nothing but invisible reminders of a past I no longer remember. One that no longer controls me. I’ve survived it all. I’m here to tell the story. And my family, they’re shackled in ruins. The Palermo name holds no meaning anymore, not even among the other families that still exist.

I ball the comforter around my chest, waiting for Dante to come out of the shower. The years have done wonders on him, and my lord, if that man doesn’t get hotter.

It’s our twentieth wedding anniversary today, and he’s planned a surprise for us. I can’t wait to know what it is. He’s been entirely too secretive about it and it’s making me anxious and excited.

He finally exits, his hair still as long and as thick as I first remember, drops of water dripping past the edges and onto his forehead. “You keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, and we’ll never leave the house.”

“And what if I do this?” I pop a brow, gently pulling the comforter down my body, exposing my breasts.

His jaw flexes as he finds my nipples hard, my breaths rough when I notice his cock jerking beneath the white towel draped around his hard, defined abs.

“You sexy, little thing,” he growls, a hand fisting his hard-on beneath the towel.

My breathing grows ragged the more he touches himself, and my hand slips under the blanket and fits around my wet pussy, my clit throbbing for his expert hands to take over.

“Are you touching your pussy under there and denying me the view?” he rasps, jerking himself still. “Show me, baby. I wanna watch.” He rips the towel off himself and my lips part when I see his thick and heavy length.

“I need you,” I groan, my fingers slipping inside slow, rubbing myself every time I slip out. His exhales are rough as he marches to the bed, ripping the comforter off my body, exposing every bare inch of me for his eyes to feast on.

“That’s more like it.” His gaze hungrily cruises down from my heavy breasts to where my hands play.

“How does it feel, baby? Is that cunt nice and soaked for my cock?”

“Dante,” I cry, arching the small of my back, my eyes aligned with his, loving the way he still looks at me—like I’m the center of his world. And he’s always been mine. This man who never let me forget that I matter. That my happiness is important too.

The bed sinks beside me and I find him there, sitting close, watching me touching myself, his gaze growing heavy-lidded, the stubble riding his jaw, vibrating with the gritting of his teeth.

His fingers reach for my knee, pushing it down onto the bed, spreading me open. I fuck myself harder, the throbbing in my core growing. “Yeah, good girl. Just like that. Make yourself come.”

I work myself into a frenzy, unable to snap my gaze from his lustful one, the fiery sensation growing over my entire body, tingles spreading down to my toes, the need spiraling.

As I’m about to come, he swipes my hand away, gripping under my ass with his rough palms until I’m lifted to his mouth.

It’s all tongue and lips, my fingers clenching the sheets, my heartbeats loud as he enters me with his tongue, flicking it over my clit.

When he does it again, I’m flying, soaring, refusing to land. He lets me soar again, then his body finds mine, and we soar once more. Together.

* * *

DANTE

With my hand on her thigh, we drive into the city for the anniversary surprise I have planned for my beautiful wife. I’m surprised Chiara hasn’t spilled. That girl is terrible at keeping a secret, but she knew how much it meant to me. I wanted to make this day special.

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat as my fingers sink into her skin, and I chuckle, loving that after all this time, I can still make her squirm.

“Where exactly are we going?” she asks once I find a spot by Central Park, narrowing a playful gaze. “My heels won’t survive that grass.”

“Then I’ll carry you,” I say, picking up her hand and bringing it to my lips for a kiss before my knuckles stroke the softness of her cheek. The way she stares deep into my eyes, it sends a chill down my spine. “Twenty years. Can you believe it?” I ask.

“I can.” Her affection spills freely from her tone, her brows furrowing. “The way you love ... it doesn’t even feel that long.”

“Until my dying day, Raquel. That’s how long I’ll love you.” I grab her by the back of the neck and pull her to me until those lips brush against mine. “And then for eternity after that.”

I capture her mouth, my fingers sinking into her hair, gripping tight as she groans for me, her tongue slipping past my lips. Her hands fist my shirt and she moans for me.

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