Page 43 of Wicked Spite
Her eyes rake over me, taking in the scratches and bite marks she’s left on my flesh like badgesof war.
I smirk, pulling out slowly, watching as the evidence of our consummation seeps out of her. “Look at that,” I murmur, voice dripping with mock curiosity. “Fucking you raw, without protection. What a bad husband I am.”
Reagan rolls her eyes, wiping some sweat from her brow. “Relax, Mr. Dominant Psycho. I have the implant.” She smirks back at me.
I narrow my eyes but let it slide for now. Instead, I lower myself between her thighs, letting my tongue trace the trail of cum and sweat on her red, puffy pussy.
Her hands find their way into my hair again, tugging sharply as my tongue delves deeper, savoring every drop. “Fuck,” she mutters, hips bucking slightly against my mouth.
By the time I pull back to look at her face—flushed red and lips parted in a dazed expression—I feel an odd sense of satisfaction wash over me. Reagan leans back against the wall, still catching her breath as I move up to capture her lips in a kiss, making her taste me, her, fucking us.
“Now that my wife has finally gotten fucking laid,” I say between heavy breaths while brushing damp hair away from my face, “can you go wipe that shit off your face so we can fucking relax? I’ll even let you pick what we watch since you wanna be a Stabler-and-Benson-hater.”
Chapter 16
Reagan
“Hey, Reese. How’s dance been going? I haven’t seen any new videos.” I ask as she appears on my phone screen. I flop down onto the unmade bed, surrounded by the chaos of this bedroom. Clothes are scattered across every surface, and punk band posters adorn the walls, an ever-present reminder of my defiance. If my dear husband is going to make me live here, I’m going to decorate just like I would in my apartment. He can look at the sweaty naked torsos of Chaos Theory glistening in all their glory while he’s posturing.
“Ugh. It’s fine, I guess. I miss you though,” replies my sister, her sweet face filling the screen of my phone. “We could run away to the beach, you know. I’ll learn way more from you than from some stuffy school. Like, why am I forced to wear a freaking uniform?”
“Trust me, kiddo, you’re safer there than with me right now.” My eyes meet hers on the screen. “I’m doing everything I can to make sure things are better for both of us.”
Reese sighs, seemingly deciding not to argue with meabout it, but I see the confusion on her face as her eyes scan the wall behind me. “Where are you? Your walls look different.”
Just as Reese is about to reply, Penn saunters into the room, shirtless and smirking. He’s never been one to respect boundaries or privacy.
“Who’s this?” Penn asks, nodding toward my phone with a mischievous grin. The motherfucker knows exactly who Reese is.
“You researched my whole life, and you know exactly who this is,” I snap back, rolling my eyes. Typical Penn, always trolling, probably even in his sleep. I feel like he has to be immortal because he’d exhaust even the devil.
“Reagan, who’s that?” Reese’s voice pulls me back to our conversation. Nothing but curiosity in her voice.
“Ugh, just some guy,” I mutter, hoping she’ll drop the subject. The last thing I need is my little sister asking questions about the likes of Penn Blackwood.
“Nice to meet you, Reese. Iamjust some guy,” Penn says playfully, yanking the phone from my hand before I can react. His eyes dance with amusement as he addresses Reese. “Just some guy she married. Not for love though, you know how much of a prickly pear she is. She married me for my guns.” He flexes obnoxiously, mirroring one of my Chaos Theory posters, telling me they do irritate him as much as I’d hoped they would.
“Give me that!” I growl, reaching for the phone, but Penn easily dodges my attempts, laughing all the while. Damn his height and agility.
“Hey there, little sister-in-law!” Penn grins mischievously into the phone screen, making my heart sink as he cheerfully talks to Reese. He flashes his hand and his weddingring in front of the camera, and I can’t help but feel a jolt of surprise at its appearance on his finger. I very much like to pretend it doesn’t exist, but something about the way he wears a ring gets to me, on some basic level that I don’t want to psychoanalyze.
“Give me my phone, you ass!” My voice comes out as a hiss, but Penn just chuckles at my annoyance, dodging my attempts to snatch the phone from his grasp with ease. The look of bemusement on his face makes my blood boil even more, but I can’t quite deny the thrill of our impromptu game.
“Fine, nice talking to you little hellion,” he drawls, finally relenting to my demands and handing back my phone. But not before shooting me one last infuriating smirk before sauntering out of the room, leaving me to simmer in my own frustration.
“Reagan,” Reese’s voice breaks into my thoughts, her brows furrowed in concern. “Why didn’t you tell me about getting freaking married? Like what the…”
I hesitate for a moment, my pulse still racing from Penn talking to my little sister. How do I find the right words to explain the strange, complicated relationship between us? It’s a challenge, even for someone as adept at persuasion as me.
“Kiddo, it wasn’t something I planned,” I say, my voice softening as I try to convey the urgency of the situation. “I married him on a whim, but there’s a reason. You know how Dad is…I needed to protect you and Penn, as weird as that may sound, can help with our plan.”
I can see the worry in Reese’s eyes, as she tries to wrap her head around the concept. My heart aches for her; she’s been through so much already. She’s a kid and deserves just to be a damn kid. “I promise you, everything I’m doing is for our future and to make sure we’re safe.”
Tears well up in Reese’s eyes, and her voice cracks as she speaks. “I know, Reagan. I trust you. I love you, but I’m seventeen. You can tell me things. I don’t always need to be coddled and kept in the dark.” I don’t say anything, because I don’t know what I can possibly say. She doesn’t deserve to live every day worrying when Dad is going to show up to fuck her entire life up. “Rae,” she whispers again, her voice thick with emotion, “thank you for always protecting me.”
I reply, my own voice wavering, “I’ll keep you safe, no matter what. That’s what big sisters are for.”
“Yea, they are. You and your scary boyfriend…err husband I guess. Gosh, I have a scary big brother now.” My heart and my gut clench at the same time because if she only knew how scary he really is. I have no doubt if someone fucked with my sister and I told him about it, he’d kill them. I wouldn’t even need to barter for it. He’d happily do it while whistling with a skip to his step.
