Page 86 of Devil in Disguise

I snickered, trying to hold in my laughter. Woman was playing with fire, but God forgive me because I wanted to watch the burn.

“What the fuck is she talking about?” Danny grumbled.

“Melissa wants me to divorce you and marry her. Don’t worry, babe, she said I can keep you as a side piece.”

Amber barked out a laugh as Missy smiled at Danny, then we all heard a distinct growl behind us, which had Danny smiling broadly and leaning on the bar to watch the show.

Fuck!

Missy winced as she leaned toward me. “Please tell me that’s my brother behind me.”

“’fraid not,Princess.” I drawled out, and her eyes narrowed at the sarcastic glee in my tone.

“What’d I tell you about playing with fire?”

Before Missy could reply, Ghost spun her around and the devilish imp actually smiled. “Hi.”

“Get him, girl,” I whispered in her ear as she slid off the seat to face off with Ghost.

I could have told her she wasn’t gonna win, but where was the fun in that? Therefore, I wasn’t shocked when Ghost picked up the stubborn woman and carried her upstairs.

Smiling, I downed the rest of my wine and sighed.

“Oh, I know that sigh.” Amber grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “Why don’t you two let me keep little bit for the night? We can spend some girly time together and her daddies can have some alone time.”

Bane grumbled and quickly covered Danika’s ears. “She’s too little to hear that shit, Amber.”

Gathering our daughter in his arms, he walked away, talking animatedly to Danika as if she were the only person in the world.

Pushing off the bar, Amber smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on Mr. Grumpy. You two go have fun.”

The bedroom door clicked shut, a signal. I was a predator unleashed. Danny hadn’t even turned before I had him pinned against the wall, the rough plaster a stark contrast to the heated press of my body against his. My lips found his in a brutal claim, my tongue a viper invading the sweetness of his mouth. One hand tangled in his hair, pulling his head back, the other—a branding iron—gripped the hard, unyielding curve of his ass. The scent of his skin, sharp and musky, filled my nostrils, a heady perfume.

He bucked, a low groan rumbling in his chest, his fingers digging into my back, the touch sending tremors down my spine. The wine, the weeks of simmering frustration, it all exploded in a raw, primal need that consumed me. This wasn’t seduction; this was conquest. I didn’t care about games. I needed him now.

His gaping shirt, ripped from his shoulders, revealed a tapestry of muscle and ink under the harsh light. My tongue found his nipple, a searing brand. He arched, a strangled cry escaping his lips, and I cupped his chest, kneading, tormenting, savoring the tremor of his surrender. The taste of his skin, the feel of his flesh beneath my fingertips, the heat radiating from his body... it was intoxicating.

I moved to his other nipple, my body grinding against his, the rigid length of him pressed hard against my own. A promise of release, of annihilation. His pants fell to the floor in a heap, along with his pride. With each desperate kick, his shoes flung off, his vulnerability laid bare. I devoured his mouth again, one hand now tracing the frantic rhythm of his erection, feeling the slick silk of his skin beneath my fingers. God, the power of it. The absolute, utter power.

The feel of his cock in my hand was a brutal affirmation, a testament to my dominance. I pushed him harder against the wall, my nails lightly digging into his skin. He tried to return the favor, fumbling with my shirt, but I wouldn’t grant him such easy comfort. I slapped his hands away, a sharp command, before seizing his boxers and dragging him towards the bed.

My frantic kiss renewed, and I still didn’t release him.

There was no surrender. Not tonight.

Tonight, his breath hitched, his eyes wide with a mix of terror and thrilling anticipation.

Tonight, he was mine.

Completely and utterly mine.

To command.

To possess.

To break.

He hit the mattress with a muffled thud; the air knocked from his lungs. Shock, raw and white-hot, etched itself onto his face before I was on him, a predator claiming its prey. My weight crushed him, my tongue a brutal invasion in his mouth, silenced by his nascent rage. His flailing hands were pinned above his head, his struggles weak against my brutal strength. I pulled back, a predatory gleam in my eyes.

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