Page 60 of Redemption's Inferno

“Say them.”

“You first!” she panted, meeting his gaze despite her out-of-control body.

He chuckled, snapping his hips forward with a hard grunt that nearly knocked the breath from her. “I love you,” he said in a soft, barely discernable whisper. “Forever, my lovely Emilie. Now say you belong to me.” He stopped moving again, and she whimpered.

“I belong to you,” she breathed against his mouth, her thighs gripping him tightly. “As long as you love me, I’m completely yours.”

“Say it,” he said, the intensity of his gaze searing right through her eyes and into her soul.

“I love you!”

“One more time, angel, and I’ll give you just what you want.”

“I love you…” Her voice broke into a scream as he pinched her clit between two fingers at the same time as he pounded into her tight, wet pussy. She made sounds he’d never heard before, her body convulsing so hard she shook the bed, the headboard and even him. His own release broke with hers and they rode it out together, fingers lacing tightly, lips fusing into one, her throbbing sheath milking him dry.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked when they’d finally stopped moving and he gently pulled out.

“No.” She smiled, her eyelids drooping with exhaustion. “You’d never hurt me.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” He pressed light kisses to her temple.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t found you,” she whispered as she fought off a surge of emotion. “I was falling…deep into an abyss that was consuming me. A few more weeks and it would’ve been too late. I didn’t think anyone could stop it—I’d fallen so far, so fast, that when I hit bottom it was going to be over.”

“Em?”

“Hm?” She looked up.

“I’ll never let you fall,” he whispered, his fingers trailing along her cheek, brushing away the solitary tear that had spilled over. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be there to catch you.”

* * *

With the birth of Dante and Becca’s son, Justin Teyo Lamonte, Emilie was at Club Inferno almost every day in November. Chains and Jamie were usually with her, unless they were at the gym, and Joe picked up the slack whenever someone needed a day off. Unfortunately, a stomach bug had ripped through the Sidewinders, sending Emilie and Simone to stay with Dante and Becca; the last thing she needed at nearly six months pregnant was a stomach virus and if Simone got it, she ultimately would as well. Chains had offered to sleep on the couch at the house with Viggo and Misty, who were down for the count, and though Jamie stayed at home, he slept in Emilie’s vacated room because he’d just had another surgery on his wrist in November and didn’t want to chance anything else going wrong. Emilie had another appointment to try to find out the sex of the baby and he was determined not to miss it.

He picked her up on a cool December afternoon and they drove to the new 4D facility excitedly. Though they were both a little disappointed Viggo and Chains couldn’t join them, they were hopeful that the baby would cooperate this time so they could learn the sex.

“It’s a girl,” she teased, as she’d been doing for weeks. “A body like mine doesn’t produce boys.”

“A body like yours is made for a boy,” he nudged her.

She rolled her eyes. “Chains will break your wrist again if he hears you talk like that.” She was kidding; Chains had long since gotten over his jealousy of her relationship with Jamie and Jamie knew it.

“You guys doing okay?” he asked as he drove.

“Wonderful,” she admitted. “I didn’t know if he would be able to handle all of this—us and the baby—but he acts like it’s his child too. Talks to it every night before we go to sleep.”

Jamie grinned. “This kid’s going to have three fathers—you think it’ll embarrass him or her?”

She shook her head. “I think both this baby and Simone will grow up happy and so well-loved they won’t know any different.”

“They’ll have friends who aren’t like this,” he said quietly.

She looked over at him. “Jamie, are you worried about being a man married to another man while raising a family?”

“Not for myself!” he snorted, looking down at his wrist. “The haters of the world have already shown me enough ugliness for a lifetime—after what I went through, a handful of bitchy PTA moms can bite me. But our kids…well, I don’t want that for them.”

“Not on our watch,” she chuckled, her hand resting on her stomach. “I hope to be very involved when they start school, and it’ll be over my dead body anyone gets away with saying anything about my children’s fathers. Any of them. And you know those bitches don’t hold a candle to me if I turn on my Mistress Emilie persona.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

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