Page 45 of Hell Hath No Fury

Freedom

Antonio

IthinkI’vediedand gone to heaven.

I’ll admit, when Lilith first went from panic to tears, I was worried.

But then, she changed. Right in front of my eyes, she shifted as if a huge weight had been lifted from her soul, and she could finally breathe again.

Her arms are wrapped around my neck, clutching me, her face pressed against my neck, and I take a moment to breathe her in, to soak up the joy of how far we’ve come.

My arms encircle her, my palms sliding over the silk of her dress as I caress her lightly. “How are we going to do this?”

“Slowly,” she responds almost shyly. Her hands massage my back, and she hides her face against my chest, her hips rotating so my dick pushes into her stomach rhythmically. “Thoroughly.”

Laughing, I ask, “Thoroughly? Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” she mutters, her hips rocking with greater purpose.

I remain passive in her embrace, allowing her to maneuver however she likes, my hands lightly gripping her waist. “Shall we sully Declan’s nice sofa or find a bedroom?”

A giggle escapes, and when she finally lifts her head to look up at me, my breath catches in my throat. Lilith has always been beautiful, but right now, seemingly free from ghosts, she’s positively radiant.

I have to push down my urge to fuck her on the closest surface, propriety and romance be damned.

Suddenly, she steps away, and I drop my arms, momentarily startled at her abrupt movement. She takes a step toward the back of house, but then stops, turning slightly toward me and holding her hand out. “Well, come on then.”

Her smile is teasing, and I take her hand with a shake of my head, chuckling as she tugs me along behind her. She decides on the third room she checks, muttering to herself about the en suite bathroom.

The room is on the large side, with a king-size bed in the middle of the far wall, nightstands on both sides, and matching dressers off to the side. The bedding is dark, likely out of practicality, but at this moment, I want nothing more than to see her ash-blonde hair spread across those sheets. Her bright blue eyes darken with desire, legs spread, arms outstretched as she begs—

A jab in the side pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn my focus back to her. The smirk on her lips indicates she has a good idea of what I was thinking about. I pull her into a hug, bowing my head and kissing her neck, nibbling a path up to her ear, earning a lighthearted giggle that has that ache in my chest aglow.

Pulling back, I remove my tie, fold it, and place it on the dresser nearest to me. I remove my cufflinks, placing them beside my neatly folded tie, and I’m just reaching for the topbutton of my shirt when she clears her throat, drawing my attention back to her. “What was that?”

She’s staring at me like I’m the dumbest person in the world, and my urge to giggle like a fucking idiot cements her opinion in this moment. “Are you seriously going to undress yourselfandtake the time to fold each article and put it away neatly?”

I wince, my smile a bit of a grimace as I glance at my tie and my cufflinks, my hands still on the top button of my shirt. My hands drop to my sides, and after a short sigh, I finally admit, “I’m a bit nervous, I think.”

She moves to stand in front of me, her hands working the buttons one by one. “Me too.”

I allow her to remove my shirt, standing still as her hands stroke over my bare chest, only intaking a quick breath as her nails scrape over my nipples. She makes quick work of my belt, unfastening and unzipping my pants, her eyes locked with mine as she lets them drop to the floor with the thud of my belt.

Accepting her silent challenge, I shove my underwear down my legs and then step out of the pooled fabric, pushing her back a few steps as I leave the defenseless clothing in a heap. Her smile is now triumphant as she scans me up and down, and then her hands stroke along my bare skin, earning soft sighs and shivers from me.

She appears to be enjoying herself, but I sense an underlying shyness, her light touch a bit hesitant, her gaze skittish.

“If you need me to stop for any reason, just say so,” I say in what I can only hope is a gentle tone. I’m being entirely serious, but the last thing I want to do is instill worry or doubt into our night. “We don’t need a fancy safe word or anything. ‘No. Stop. What the fuck are you doing?’ Any variation of those will do.”

Her smile is genuine, her fingertips gliding over my cheek, a comfort. “Likewise. No questions asked, no hard feelings.”

My smile is sheepish, understanding what she means even as I want to deny the possibility. “I appreciate that,” I murmur, my hand playing with the fabric of her dress. “Look at us, being all communicative and shit.”

Her laugh clears the last remnants of unease from the room, and I breathe a sigh of relief that my little safety statement didn’t ruin our night. I knew it easily could, but I also knew it had to be said.

She’s smiling and shaking her head as she says, “Please don’t ever do that again.”

“What?”

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