Page 374 of Rage

I could lie and tell himyes, or I could tell him the truth. “Yes, more than once.” The lie rolls off my tongue fluidly. “I’ve been on many dates.”

Emmett tips his head back and barks out a laugh that’s dark and sinister. “I’m going to give you the opportunity to change your answer since I already know you’re lying.” My mouth goes dry, but I somehow hold myself together.

“I’m not a virgin. If that’s what you are asking,” I quip.

Taking a step forward, he reaches out, and his knuckles gently caress the underside of my breast.

“You’re a shit liar, and I know it because I’ve watched you every fucking day. I made certain that no one else touched what was mine.”

Whatever my response might have been gets lodged in my throat when his knuckle brushes against my nipple. A gasp parts my lips at the onslaught of sensations that ripple through me from that one simple touch. I don’t want to react, but how can I not?

His hand brushes against my chin, and he gently lifts it, forcing my eyes to meet his.

“I’m going to fuck you, my wife, and when your virgin pussy comes around my cock, the blood of your purity coating the skin, we’ll both know that you were lying.”

“And you’ll discover I wasn’t.” I fire back, using the last of my strength. Like a man starved of air and life, he pounces on me, his lips find mine like a beacon of light, and he devours me from the inside out.

I can’t protest or speak. All I can do is drown inside him. He makes quick work of his clothing, tossing the articles onto the floor as he guides us back toward the bed.

I should at least attempt to get away again, but the truth is, I don’t want to run. I’ve wanted Emmett since before I became his wife.

Dipping his head, he kisses me with a tenderness I don’t expect. His tongue presses against the seam of my lips, begging for entrance, and I open for him, letting him massage my tonguewith his own. I’ve never French kissed anyone before, but the sparks of pleasure kissing brings makes me feel as though I’ve been missing out.

Emmett’s hands are everywhere, in my hair, trailing along my body, and clawing at my panties. His body blankets mine once we’re on the bed, and this sense of protection and security washes over me.

He breaks the kiss and sinks his fingers into the waistband of my panties. He’s completely naked now, his straining cock between us.

“You make me so fucking hard, so fucking crazy. Two years I’ve waited for you. Every day that I’ve had to stay away has been torture, but you’re here now, and I’m going to make you mine. Officially. Forever.”

“What do you mean you’ve waited two years? As in… you didn’t sleep with anyone else?”

“Would you be jealous if I had?” The bastard smirks.

“No,” I lie again, my mother’s lessons coming through. She always told me I should look the other way at my husband’s cheating. Men of power can have any woman they want; all you have to do is satisfy him enough to stay married.

“We really need to work on your honesty, but that’s going to have to wait,” he chides and rips my panties down my legs. Without the protection of my underwear, I’m vulnerable.

Emmett eases my thighs apart and stares at my pussy.

“Nothing but a thin strip of hair…” he says, but I get the feeling he’s talking more to himself. My mother always told me I needed to be ready for a man, whenever, and that no man wanted a woman who wasn’t groomed.

His fingers dip between my legs, and I draw in a ragged breath when he spreads my pussy lips and moves his head between my thighs.

“What are you doing?” I croak. I know what he’s doing, but I can’t seem to imagine he would want to do it with me.

“I’m tasting my wife’s virgin cunt,” he growls against my folds without even looking up. Then he’s on me; his mouth suctions against my clit while his tongue flicks the tiny bundle of nerves.

It takes everything inside me not to scream. The pleasure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

With each lap of his tongue, I grow wetter, my arousal mounting while the impending orgasm claws at my insides.

“Oh… god…” I squeak, my muscles tightening.

“Come on my fucking tongue.” His voice rumbles against my folds, and his fingers sink into my skin, holding me in place, with no possibility of escape. The pleasure builds and builds like a storm, and I’m blinded by it.

But right at the height, seconds before I’m about to catapult over the cliff’s edge, he pulls away.

“Don’t stop!” I beg, looking up at him through my lashes.

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