Page 52 of His Angel

I press two fingers back inside, and she clenches, her head tipping back. “You want my cum.”

“Isaia…”

“Say it,” I demand, nipping her breast, teeth grazing hard enough to sting. “Tell me you love my cum, or I’ll pull out every time we fuck, not giving you a drop.”

Her pussy tightens around my fingers—fuck, she’s soaked—and I know I’m right. She’s hooked on it.

“Fine,” she gasps, voice trembling, eyes locked on mine. “I love it. Your cum…it fucking undoes me.” Her admission’s a spark, lighting me up, and I growl, pulling her down to straddle my hips. “Only yours.”

I pause. Only mine? Does that mean…

Has she had another man’s cum inside her?

Anthony’s face flashes, his hands on her, and I’m choking on it.

She’ll find out. You’re going to lose her.

“Did you sleep with him?”

“What?”

“Anthony. Did you let him fuck you?”

Of course, she did.

I feel the sting on my cheek before I realize how irrational I became within a split fucking second. The burn from her palm is sharp, grounding, and shit, I deserve it.

“Screw you, Isaia.” She gets off me fast, like I burned her, voice shaking with fury. “Screw you!”

“Everly—” I reach for her, but she’s already moving, scrambling off the bed, her naked back a blur as she storms toward the bathroom.

“I would never sleep with another man while loving someone else.” Her words hit like bullets, each one sinking deep, and the door slams behind her, the lock clicking loudly in the silence.

The devil’s carving my spine with a rusty blade, because the craziness just keeps on growing.

“You married him, Everly,” I call, voice rough but softer, cracking at the edges. “Surely you knew he’d expect sex from you sooner or later.”

I’m going to kill him. For real. Make it hurt more.

She comes rushing out, a towel wrapped around her. If the slap wasn’t a dead giveaway, the flush on her cheeks and dark flash in her mismatched eyes tells me she’s pissed.

“Why now? Why bring this up now?”

I grab my pants and slip them on, roughing a hand through my hair. “I haven’t really had a chance to bring it up.”

“Because we’ve been fucking ever since I opened my eyes on this goddamn island.”

She’s not wrong.

While slipping on a tee, I move toward her, and she’s not backing away, standing her ground.

“I get it. You’re pissed I asked. But tell me, if it was me, if I were the one who spent weeks with another woman planning our wedding and then married her before you came barging into the church, how would you deal with that?”

I press forward, and this time she inches back.

“If you were in my shoes, can you honestly say the thought of there even being the slightest possibility of me fucking another woman, ramming my cock into her, making her scream my name would never cross your mind once?”

“It’s not the same.” There’s a subtle quiver in her voice, and I stalk her until her back hits the wall.

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