Page 35 of The Devil's Torment

Except, I’m still very much done.

Trussed up.

Trapped.

Imprisoned in a body that’s broken.

His lips travel to my ear. “Was that good for you?”

It’s a corny line—one I wouldn’t have expected from him—but I answer anyway.

“It was amazing.”

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, then meets my gaze. “Liar.”

ChapterThirteen

NICHOLAS

I’ve had enough experience with women to know when one is conning me, and my wife just tried to pull sex’s version of a bait and switch. The first time with someone is always a little odd, even strained. They don’t know your likes and dislikes, and you don’t know theirs.

That’s where experience comes in.

I know to watch for cues, and I know how to spot fake enjoyment from a mile off. Not that I’ve had a whole lot of women fake orgasms with me, come to think of it. In fact, I can’t name a single one. Victoria’s overacting was Oscar worthy.

“Liar?” She gives a girlish giggle as simulated as her supposed climax. Victoria isn’t the giggling type. “Why would I lie?”

“Good question.” I cage her with my arms on either side of her head, my thighs trapping her legs. “I’m a tolerant man most of the time, but like anything, there are varying degrees, and the one thing I despise above all else is a liar.” I run my nose down hers, the move one of warning not of intimacy. “You faked it.”

“I didn’t.” She won’t meet my eyes, her gaze somewhere around the middle of my torso. “It was great. Honestly.”

I scoff a laugh. “Honesty? You’re talking to me about honesty? I mean it, Half-pint. Spill the beans, or that spanking we talked about is going to come around far faster than either of us expected.”

She must pick up on the caution in my tone because she slowly lifts her eyes to mine, her tongue dampening what I’m guessing are dry lips. She swallows then licks them again.

Her right shoulder shifts in an attempted shrug. “Okay, I faked it. So what? I’ve never liked sex all that much, anyway. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

Her reasoning couldn’t have shocked me any more than if she’d taken the marble lamp to her right and clobbered me over the head with it.

“How many men have you slept with?”

Her eyes shoot wide. “I’m not telling you that. It’s private.”

“We’re married. There’s no such thing as private. How many?”

She pushes at my chest, but she’s no match for my strength, especially from such a submissive position.

“How many? I won’t ask again.”

She almost pouts. If this wasn’t so serious, it’d be cute. “Fine. Two. Happy now?”

“Nothing about this is making me happy, I can assure you.” I roll to the side, and she immediately sits up, but before she can make a run for it, I capture her around the waist and pull her down to the mattress with me, her back to my front. Intuition tells me she might open up a bit more if we’re not face to face.

“If you don’t see what all the fuss is about, then you’ve been fucking the wrong men.”

A bitter laugh spills out of her. “Your ego is showing.”

Drawing her hair over her shoulder and freeing up her neck, I press a soft kiss there. “I think you mean my experience is showing.” I bite her earlobe. “Let me make something clear to you to ensure we’re both on the same page. If youeverfake an orgasm with me again, I will put you over my knee and spank the living fucking daylights out of you.”

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